Jimmy lay flat on the ground, his belly pressed tightly to the earth.
Green shrubs sheltered him from view. Only one hundred yards of cleared
land sat between him and his objective. He had waited five years for this.
It so happened that it was five years ago from today that it had happened.
The nightmare that had taken place that evening was again playing in his
mind. The sound of the first shot echoed through his head. The scream as
his mother fell. The futile, retaliatory shots from his father . . .
That evening had resulted in the death of both of his parents. He
couldn't help but think that, in some way, it was his fault. If only he
hadn't left his parents alone. If only he hadn't gone to explore the
woods. If only he'd thought to bring a gun with him. If only he hadn't
just stood there watching from the protection of the trees as those lethal
bullets found their way into his parents. Then, maybe then, things would
have been different. Jimmy couldn't really blame himself. After all, what
could a fifteen year old boy be expected to do under those circumstances?
His parents had dreamed of a better life. A life that would bring
prosperity and success for the family, specifically for him. They had
heard there was rich, fertile land out west. Sadly enough, his parents'
last breaths were drawn only a few hundred miles from their dream. They
had been murdered for nothing more than the few dollars and a couple of
small pieces of jewelry that they had possessed. The murderers had laughed
as they kicked at his dead father, looking for anything of value. They had
been quite sure of themselves and wore no masks. Jimmy could still
remember their faces as if it was yesterday. The murderers would be
brought to justice, come hell or high water, Jimmy had decided. As it
turned out, he was complied to track them for the past five years, through
...