Chapter 1

God Damn! That hurt! Here I was out running my laps to stay in shape when the section of track right in front of me disappeared, and I fell into that unbelievable hole. I don't know how long I fell, but I did keep banging off of one side or the other of the hole as I dropped. There was nothing to see because of the total blackness, but finally I did hit bottom with a resounding crash. When I came to, I was naked as a jay-bird, and lying in some tall grass. I had no idea where I was, but I sure as hell "wasn't in Kansas anymore!"

My first recollection of my new life was some man kicking me in the ribs. "Hey, knock it off! Can't you see I'm dizzy? Let me get my head on straight, dammit!" I guess I should give a little background on myself to explain what I knew of what was going on. My name is Jess Douglas, and I'm just past my 23^rd birthday. I'm 6'-3" tall and weigh 243 pounds, and that ain't fat, it's muscle. With my dark brown hair, green eyes, and unblemished face, I do attract a lot of attention from the ladies. I was going to college by means of a football scholarship as a running back, and a definite pro prospect as a high draft choice.

My main hobby was MMA (Mixed Martial Arts), so I was a very good fighter. In fact, I was in training for the amateur championship of North America when I fell through that damned hole. That hobby was a life saver right then! The guy who had kicked me was holding a club, and he drew it back like he was going to take a swing at my head.

Hell, I guess my reflexes as an athlete and fighter took over right then. I didn't give the matter any thought as I rolled as hard as I could into the leg he was bracing with as he started his swing. I heard a SNAP and a scream of pain as the bastard fell to the ground. It sounded like I was lucky enough to tear a ligament in his knee as it twisted in a direction it definitely did not want to go.

I kept rolling and wound up on my feet. I looked around and got the second shock of my life! I was facing two Indians on horseback, and both of them were holding lances like they were just aching to use them. One of them said something to the other one that I didn't catch, but I sure as hell saw what he had in mind.

His horse jumped forward toward me and he aimed his lance at my gut. Somehow, I didn't think that this was the local form of a friendly greeting, so I quickly assumed a fighting stance. Obviously, with him on a horse and me on my own two feet, there was no way I was going to outrun him. It only took a couple of seconds for him to reach me, but I think that he was not taking me seriously, since I was naked and obviously unarmed.

This gave me the opening I needed. As the horse charged, I dashed across in front of it, waving my arms. The horse was as startled as the man, and it swerved to escape this totally unexpected mad thing headed for its head. The man on its back was holding on by his knees and without stirrups, so the suddenly swerving horse threw him to the ground. He was lying on his back, stunned, and that gave me my chance.

My first thought had been that I was on a movie set, but the swinging of the club had disabused me of that notion. Now, it looked like I was in some unknown situation fighting for my life. Shit, they attacked me, so I figured that I was within my rights in defending myself with whatever deadly force I had at my disposal. With that thought in mind, I ran to the Indian lying on the ground and jumped on his throat so that my heal impacted his wind pipe with all of the force that I could muster. The upshot was that he had a crushed wind pipe and was no longer in the fight.

That left one mounted man who was armed with his own lance. At that moment, the mounted man decided to charge me. Let me tell you, I was so juiced up with adrenalin at that moment that I felt like Superman. His horse came charging at me, and the man looked like he expected me to pull the same stunt at him as I had just used against his friend. Well, I'm not that dumb!

I jumped the other way and let him pass me harmlessly on my right hand side. I knew that I was in trouble, but a plan was already forming in my head as I ran for the club my first man had tried to use on me. I picked it up and saw that it was made of a stone head fastened with leather bindings to a handle about two feet long. Well, somebody knew how to make a damned good fighting club!

I was a master of fighting with a club, so I felt comfortable for the first time since falling through that damned hole. Of course, that lance could easily trump my club if I let my concentration slip. I hated to do it, but my first job was to get rid of that horse. It simply was a case of that horse had to die if I was going to live!

In my experience, a horse has five vulnerable points to a club: his head and his four legs. Well, the head was too chancy, so I decided to go for a leg. The guy on the horse got his mount turned around and charged at me again. This time, I let him come at my right side because I was right handed, like him. I could tell that he was thoroughly confused because I just stood there as he charged. He must have figured that I had some plan in mind, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

As he approached me with his lance extended toward my gut, I raised the club and used its handle to sweep aside the lance. Damn, that was close! The point grazed my belly as it went by, but I ignored the minor pain. I was concentrating on getting my club into position to smash the horse's hind leg as it swept past.

I put all of the strength I had, and that was considerable, in striking the horse's leg with the stone head of my club. OK, I admit that I was lucky, but I caught the horse just as he put weight on the leg, and that locked it into place for my blow.

The leg bone shattered and the horse screamed in pain as it fell to the ground. The rider was caught completely by surprise and had no time to react. He went skidding along the ground, trapped under the horse. From the looks of his body, I had to assume that his back was broken in two places, and his neck was shattered. Anyway, I didn't take any chances and ran up to slit his throat with his own belt knife. I did the same for the horse with the same knife.

To be on the safe side, I also cut the throat of the man with the broken knee. I was looking around for more enemies when I heard a woman call for help. I trotted over to her, and that was when I was really conscious of being naked—my cock and balls were flopping around painfully as I ran. I did slow down some to take away the worst of the discomfort, but I continued to hurry through the tall grass toward where the cry for help came from.

When I got close to her so that she could see the details of my body, she gasped and asked, "Are you a god or a demon!?! I have never seen anybody like you."

"No, I am neither one. I'm just a man from a different place than here. What can I do to help you?"

"Those accursed Comanches have killed my man, and they have left me alone in the world. I am young and strong. Can you use a woman to cook your food and warm your bed?"

Now, that question was a surprise! And the language she used was also a surprise. I had been majoring in government studies and taking a minor in foreign languages; thus, I had no problem in following her Spanish. Her accent was nothing that I was used to, but it was easy to understand.

"Obviously, you are not a Comanche, but what are you. I am woefully ignorant of local conditions."

"I am Mescalero Apache. My man and I were headed for the tribal meeting when we were attacked by the Comanches. Where are you going? I will go with you anywhere you want, but we could continue to the tribal meeting if you want to go there."