William Redman Carter
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2005 by Lazlo Zalezac

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 7 - William Redman Carter is the son of John Carter and Linda Carter. Within his blood lies a heritage of the true people and the white man. He is blessed by the Gods and Goddesses, as well as the Great Spirit. Yet, he is still a man with all of the needs and desires of a young man.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Science Fiction  

An ominous feeling radiated from the black hole as the sun peered over the horizon. A huge construction crane towered over William. He watched the cage slowly approach the hole. He lifted a hand and the operator stopped lowering the cage.

William turned his back to the hole. Medicine men from all over the country had gathered in a great circle around him. Behind them, stood hundreds of warriors. Every man was dressed in tribal costumes. It was not that their costumes had importance in their actions, but that they wanted to look their best when they met the Great Spirit should they die.

Past the warriors, a handful of Druids stood where they could watch the proceedings. Ed Biggers and Kelly were among the Druids, although their reasons for being there were more parental than anything else. Next to Ed stood a couple of Catholic Priests. A good distance away was a horde of reporters, brought to the location by reports of a major gathering of Medicine Men.

Barefoot, wearing a loincloth, a medicine bag around his neck, and carrying a Tomahawk, William felt very small and vulnerable. The only modern thing was the communications radio that he wore over his right ear. He spoke, "Can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you," replied the crane operator.

William turned back to face the hole. Aware that he was about to enter the pit, the Medicine Men started chanting. The sound of drums rose adding power to their chants.

Never in his life had he experienced such overwhelming evil. Waves of a black hunger seemed to reach out for him. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the hole and jumped into the cage. After closing the door to the cage, he said, "Lower me."

As he entered the dark pit, he could feel dark forces gathering around him. Above his head, huge wooden beams braced the ceiling. The air inside the pit was freezing cold. He could see his breath in the fading light. Looking over the edge of the cage, he finally made out the floor. The pit was much deeper than he had thought it would be. He called out, "Stop."

It was with some relief that the cage came to a halt. He had been afraid that the radio wouldn't work inside the pit. Physics said it would work. Magic suggested that it wouldn't. There was a more than a little relief to learn that physics had won.

Reaching down to the bottom of the cage, he picked up a rope and tied it to the support cable. The cage shook as though a giant hand had slapped it. He threw out the body bags. Dust rose up in the air choking him.

Moving carefully, William climbed down the rope. When he reached the floor, he was thrown across the pit as if swatted by an invisible hand. Struggling to stand, he looked around him. The pit was circular. Spaced around the walls were eleven bodies. Six of them were Native Americans as evidenced by their dress. Five of them wore outfits of Spanish Conquistadors. He could just make out two bodies on the floor below the cage. One looked to be a missionary and the other a prospector.

The first order of business was to remove the bodies from the pit. He walked toward the center of the pit. The air was thick and heavy. It was like forcing his way through molasses. Stopping, he picked up a body bag. He forced his way to the bodies under the basket. Doing his best not to touch the bodies, he stuffed the skeletal remains into two body bags.

He pulled the bodies out from under the basket. Dust rose around him, making it difficult to draw breath. He blinked, trying to clear the tears that had welled up in his eyes. He could feel forces beating against his body. A dark hunger pulsed from where the bodies had been. He backed away from the center of the room. Aloud he said, "Lower the cage."

The cage settled on the floor. Grabbing one of the body bags, he hauled it over to the cage. He opened the door and wrestled one of the body bags into the cage. Closing the door, he stepped back and said, "Sending up a white man."

A few seconds later the cage rose from the floor. He watched it rise from the floor while holding his breath. He hoped his plan worked. When the body left the pit, there was a general lessening of the pressure beating against him. He didn't exactly relax, but he did feel relief. The opposing forces in the room had balanced and taking him wouldn't affect the balance.

He knew that once the cage set down on the ground, a priest would bury the remains in land that had been consecrated for that purpose. After more than three hundred years, the spirits held within this pit would be put to rest. A couple of Medicine Men were waiting to lay to rest the spirits of the Native Americans once they were removed from the pit.

He went to work putting the skeletal remains that were scattered around the room in body bags. Using a piece of chalk, he drew crosses on the body bags containing white bodies and feathers on the body bags containing a Native American. He had finished with four bodies when the basket was lowered back into the room.

Two at a time, he sent bodies out of the pit. Each load contained a white and a red man in order to maintain the balance of forces. The pressure beating against him lessened, but the black evil hunger from the center of the room grew even stronger. The air thickened and it was harder to breath.

The sun cast a bright spot on the floor of the pit; the spot slowly moved across the length of the pit. The hours passed, each lift of bodies took almost an hour to achieve. He had been working in the pit, fighting the forces beating him and moving through thick toxic air, for almost seven hours when the last pair of bodies was lifted out of the pit.

William was exhausted, but the forces that had been battering him had lifted. The horrible hunger originating from the center of the pit seemed to attack his spirit, trying to trick him into death. He had to crawl to the center of the pit. Once there, he dug in the dirt floor seeking the source of the hunger. Afraid to use his hands, he was reduced to scraping away the dirt with his Tomahawk. The drumbeat and chanting from outside grew in volume.

His efforts eventually revealed a crystalline skull that pulsed with an eerie green light. It was sickening to look upon. His stomach churned. Each pulse weakened him as if it was a psychic vampire draining the energy from him. It became everything he could do to lift his arms.

Gathering what little will was left in him, William raised the Tomahawk above his head. He brought it down as hard as he could upon the skull. A brilliant flash of green light blinded him. A horrible scream split the air a fraction of a second before an explosion lifted and threw him across the pit.

William opened his eyes, but could see nothing. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious. The evil hunger was gone. The forces that had been beating upon him were gone. The drums and chanting had stopped. The fresh scent of the desert reached him. Every part of his body hurt. His body was freezing cold. He moaned.

"Don't talk," said a voice.

For a moment, William struggled to identify the owner of the voice. He gave up the effort deciding it wasn't important. The only thing that was important was the pain. With each pulse of pain, he knew that he lived. He could feel hands touching him, but he couldn't see who was touching him. He closed his eyes and listened to the voices around him.

"He'll be okay. Let's get him out of here," said a voice.

William felt hands lift him onto a stretcher and then the bouncing of the stretcher being carried. He opened his eyes and was immediately blinded by the bright light from the sun overhead. The thought that it should be night flitted through his mind. Holding the thought was too much effort. It slowly registered that he was thirsty. In a harsh croak, he tried to communicate his need, "Wa... Wa."

A woman's voice, he recognized it as belonging to Kelly, said, "Here's an ice chip. Suck on it."

A small sliver of cold forced its way between his lips. As it melted, heavenly water trickled down his throat. He opened his eyes, but the bright light forced him to close them again. Another chip of ice followed the first. He sucked greedily on it.

"Let's move him to the clinic," Kelly said.

William woke and looked around the room recognizing it as the family clinic. Linda said, "Ah, you're awake at last."

"What happened?" William asked.

"The pit collapsed on you after a huge green cloud billowed out of it. It took us eighteen hours to dig you out. We were very worried about you," Linda said. Worried was putting it mildly. She had been frantic and had tried to dig him out with her bare hands. It had taken Ed and Dan working together to pull her away from the site.

It wasn't a challenge to guess what the reactions had been among the mothers. He imagined that Ling and Claire had been angry, Linda had been frantic, and Kelly had turned into the clinical nurse. William said, "I'm sure that the rest of the family want to know that I'm awake."

He had barely finished speaking when Betsy flew into the room and stopped at the foot of the bed. After looking at him for a second, she said, "You're awake."

She sped off towards the door and then immediately returned to the foot of the bed. She said, "I'll go get Momma Kelly."

She hadn't covered more than three steps before she was back at the foot of the bed. She said, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

After Betsy finally flew out of the room. Linda laughed and said, "She's been popping in here every five minutes. You'll have plenty of company in a minute."

"He's awake," echoed through the door as Betsy screamed the news as she ran towards the family room.

In a soft voice, Linda said, "Your work was successful. Sarah and I were talking about it while you slept. We both feel more energetic than we have in years. It is like a veil has been lifted from our eyes. Our thoughts are sharper. I feel fresh and strong. Others are reporting the same thing."

"I'm glad," William said. He wasn't feeling particularly energetic or mentally sharp at the moment.

Eddie ran into the room. He stepped up to the side of the bed and looked at his big brother. In a serious voice, he said, "You're the bravest big brother a guy can have. I'm so proud of you."

Ruffling Eddie's hair, William said, "You're a great little brother. You know just what to say to cheer someone up."

"That was a brave thing you did, William. I'm proud of you," said Ed when he stepped into the room. He looked down at William knowing that his son had provided a very significant and important service for a huge number of people.

"Thanks, dad," William said as the rest of the family filed into the room. It didn't surprise him that Eddie and Ed had spoken nearly identical words. The two shared the same soul.

William touched his chest and found that his medicine bag was missing. Ed, noticing the gesture, said, "There was a small pile of ashes on your chest when we found you."

In bits and pieces, William was able to get a picture of what had happened. When the last pair of bodies had been removed from the pit, the evil draw toward the pit had intensified. The Medicine Men had fought to keep it contained.

 
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