The Eagle Catcher: Excerpt
The minute he spotted Harvey's tipi, he knew something was wrong. Theflaps on the other tipis were closed, tied securely in place, but the flap on Harvey's hung loose, jumping sideways in the wind. Father John started running, the thud of the drums reverberating in his chest. He reached the tipi, threw the flap back against the canvas, and ducked inside. In the slim shaft of daylight, he saw the army-green sleeping bag on the dirt floor. Someone was in it.
"Harvey," he called. "You okay?"
Then Father John saw the black stain on the bag. He dropped down on one knee, wincing as the hard ground bit through his blue jeans and into his kneecap. He pulled back the top of the bag. Harvey's eyes were open, staring up into nothingness. Father John laid a finger alongside the Indian's neck. The skin felt stiff and cool. There was no pulse.
Suddenly Father John was aware that someone had come in behind him and was blocking the thin stream of daylight.
© Margaret Coel