Burial Ground: The Legend of Andrew Rufus: (Book 4 of 7) (The Legend of Andrew Rufus Complete Series) by M.M. Crumley

Author:M.M. Crumley [Crumley, M.M.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Lone Ghost Publishing
Published: 2020-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Andrew snitched a couple biscuits before Pecos could eat them, but it just wasn't enough. He wanted more. He glanced at his hands and saw they were covered in blood, and one of his fingernails had ripped completely off. Now that he looked at them, they hurt like hell.

And once he noticed that, he realized his back felt like a boulder had fallen on it and his head was throbbing. He reached for the power and quickly healed himself, watching in awe as his fingernail simply regrew. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and for a moment everything was black and he couldn't see.

"You alright, boy?" Pecos asked.

"Huh?" Andrew shook his head. He suddenly felt ridiculously weak. "Yeah, just need to eat I think. I'm gonna ride over to that stream and see if I can catch some fish."

"Want company?" Joe asked.

Andrew shook his head. "I won't be long." He couldn't handle being with Joe right now. Joe had a way of knowing when something was wrong, and Andrew couldn't talk about it, not yet.

He mounted, and Widow Maker pranced through the woods towards the stream. "Yes, I know," Andrew said. "You did get us here fast. Doyle was way behind." Widow Maker nodded his head. "Fast as the wind, maybe even faster." Widow Maker tossed his mane proudly, and Andrew chuckled.

He fished for a few minutes before he caught his first fish. He was so hungry he almost cooked it right there, but he cast his line again and waited.

"I must admit, you have exceeded my expectations."

Andrew spun around, gun in hand, grimacing when he realized it was just the Grey Shaman. "You."

"Not the greeting I was expecting."

"Were you expecting a 'thank you, oh great shaman' or a punch to the face?" Andrew asked, turning back to the stream.

The Grey Shaman sat beside him. "I prefer the 'oh great shaman'; it has a nice ring."

"Alright; thank you, oh great shaman for choosing me to be your pawn in this horrible game you're playing."

The shaman chuckled. "A pawn is moved where its master wishes; you blaze your own path."

Andrew frowned. "But you pull me and push me and throw me when and where you want me without any regard for the consequences."

"True."

"Why?" Andrew demanded.

"Do you want her to win?"

"No, but can't you defeat her?"

"Eh," he shrugged. "I prefer to endorse a champion."

Andrew snorted. "So Aylen doesn't interfere; you meddle but watch from the sidelines; meanwhile Meli runs around doing whatever the hell she wants. You guys are some messed up family."

The Grey Shaman filled his pipe with tobacco and lit it. He offered it to Andrew, but Andrew shook his head and asked, "How do you do it?"

"What?"

"Meddle with time. Aylen said time is delicate, that it can be damaged."

"True."

"So why do you do it?"

"If it hasn't happened yet, what does it matter?"

Andrew frowned. That didn't seem quite right, but what did he know? It's not like there was a book somewhere that explained why and how time worked.

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