It all made for a powerful trail easy to mark and their solution was to split up into several smaller groups and meet up at a designated location with precise timing using the sun and the shadows as their natural guide.The dangerous group was well-armed with stolen government repeating rifles never issued to the troops because of a corrupt system of logistics that dated all the way back to the conduct of the American Civil War. In addition, they were leading three mules loaded down with ammunition for the up to date modern firearms that would enable them to stay in their isolated hiding places for a very long time. The hoarded provisions in the corrupt station agent’s storeroom meant the difference in starvation and survival in a long, cold winter.The Indian women were tasked in attending to more than one husband’s nocturnal needs but that all seemed to be under control because the females were used to a lifetime of making sacrifices for the good of the tribe.It was a cultural. “Can someone tell me what the fuck I’m doing here?” I cried out to all of them. There was laughter, and then a voice I recognised as Simon’s my ex boyfriends “Well honey, you always wanted everyone else, other than me, and now you’re going to get your wish and so much more.” “You bastard! You can’t do this to me,” I said through fresh tears, more laughter erupted as I sobbed quietly. Simon had been bitter, when I ended our relationship. He had sobbed for days, curled up in a ball, saying he did not know what he was going to do from now on, that I was his life, and without me, none of it meant anything. It was sad, and I really did feel awful, but it had taken me years to finally be brave enough to admit that I wasn’t happy, and I was afraid but I wasn’t going to back down now for a few more months of misery and inevitably the same conclusion. Yes I had flirted with other guys when I was with Simon, and yes I had admitted honestly that I fancied some of the guys I socialised with when.
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