Donald Wayne Manning

Taken Donald Wayne Manning

Lying in concealment adjacent to the Indian's camp young Luke Scarbrough thought about what the next few hours would bring, he began to tense up again. He needed to stay calm, but he couldn't get his mind off of what was soon to happen. It was hard to comprehend all that had taken place in such a short time span of only a few days. The slaughter of his parents and the others when the Indians attacked the wagons. The abduction of his two sisters and the Anderson kids. The burden of responsibility with he being the only one left to go after them and he was only fifteen years old. The last several days of tracking the Indians with their captives. Killing the four warriors that had been sent back to kill him. And of course dealing with the two outlaws that had robbed him. All weighed heavy on his mind. How much more of this could he take? The recent past, present, and near future were all coming to an explosive head. Come daylight the battle would begin and end in a time span of one or two minutes. Was he now in the last hours of his life? Would he survive this coming fight? Three to one for sure and maybe more than that, how could he survive? He had to last long enough to get the captives freed. His sister Belle was a smart girl, if they were free of the Indians could she somehow make it back to the wagon trail . . . even if he himself were dead.