Atalanta at Whateley: School Days Chapters 29

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As Atalanta prepares for another run up the Devil's Washboard and Christmas Eve day's festivities she borrows a horse and goes exploring the forest. Later at the party....

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Chapter 29

Darkening clouds banking to the north were driven by a blustery and colder wind, signaling a change from the unseasonable warm weather that had held sway over the northeast.

The forecast was for worsening conditions this evening, and snow to start after dark with the likelihood of a foot or more by tomorrow, with high winds causing drifts.

Ben and Eloise had not liked the idea that I wanted to borrow a horse and do some exploring, before my circus-like performance scheduled for early afternoon. But I had risen early and went outside to stretch and run in place; practicing various katas and forms as I had been taught to.

By the time the clock struck 8am I had finished my routine, eaten, showered, dressed, and was filled with restless energy. I paced the floor. Sitting at the kitchen table I drummed my fingers on the hard surface while staring off into space.

“Nervous,” Eloise asked from her seat.

“Huh,” I mumbled roused from my musings, “no, not about the Devil’s Washboard.”

“Something is bothering you,” Eloise asked gently.

“You’re right,” I agreed, “something is bothering me, but I can’t put my finger on just what. It’s like I missed something important, or left something unfinished.”

That was when I knew I had to go outside and explore. As I explained to both Donnors; being outside in nature helped me to clear out the cobwebs. Ben offered to accompany me but as I pointed out he was going to be busy setting up out at Russ’s cabin. However, what I needed and wanted was the solitude of nature.

While both understood, they were concerned about me having an accident, or the weather turning bad. To ease their concern I carried my cell phone and rode their handpicked horse.

So here I was on the back of a Morgan gelding named Blackie (What else would you name a coal black horse?). After leaving the barn we paralleled the road leading to Dunwich. I briefly considered visiting the hidden weapons cache I accumulated from the Dunwich train station kidnapping attempt, but I quickly discarded that idea.

What the hell would I do with the stuff; it was too large to hide.

Instead I just let Blackie have his head and we ambled through the forest traveling roughly northeast. At the top of a rise Blackie stopped and snorted his displeasure.

“What is it boy; you see something?” Blackie seemed to nod his head and whinnied in agreement, backing off the grassy spine we were following.

I dismounted, patted his neck, and while rubbing his nose apologized; “Sorry ol’ boy that I got you out of your warm barn and into this cold.” I continued to offer soothing words as my eyes and ears scanned the trees, bushes, rocks, and the ground seeking anything out of the ordinary. Blackie could have caught the scent of his ancestral predators; bears, wolves, snakes, or big cats.

It could also be that he was high strung and just spooked by the wind rustling in the trees. But Morgan horses as a rule had good sense and a dependable nature. Holding his reins tightly I guided us below the skyline, but continued following the hillside while wishing for a long range weapon. The faint game trail I was following led us into a bowl-like depression with an abundance of thumb sized hickory and oak saplings.

Blackie watched me with interest as I tested several of the straighter samples, and whinnied softly as I bent over one and snapped it. In a few minutes I straightened up and presented my makeshift spear to Blackie who stamped his hoofs in approval. The crude weapon had its branches stripped with a debarked and sharpened end. I hefted it above my head grinning and swung into the saddle. Spurring my mount we attacked the rim with vengeance.

We emerged from that bowl head up nostrils flaring and eyes wide: defiant. My spear was gripped tightly, while Blackie’s muscles were bunched and tight. My eyes scanned our peripheral while my horse kept his focus on footing and what lay directly ahead. In seconds we had bonded as a team, horse and rider as one unit; ancestral habits born of combat.

My lips thinned in a feral smile as energy poured into me and my eyes flashed colors. Blackie shivered and leapt forward eagerly.

“Easy boy,” I whispered in his ear leaning forward and tying my reins to the saddle horn trusting that he wouldn’t shy and throw me.

Every 50 feet or so I leaned forward whispering encouragement to Blackie, who seemed to listen actively with his head up, teeth bared and his hooves striking the ground.

The wind whipped up at times causing my coat to flap wildly around my legs which Blackie ignored. Soon we emerged from the forested slope, where by mutual agreement we stopped short of the Dunwich road and scrutinized the terrain. Again, as if with one mind we scampered onto the road and turned toward the village. Blackie with his neck bowed, head up alternated between a sideways walk and hooves flashing in a natural three step cantor. Amused, I gave him his head, estimating we had time to make it back and do the run everyone was excited to see.

“Eloise come here you have to see this,” Ben called to his wife. She joined him at the living room’s large window where they watched Blackie high stepping and shifting between a sideways walk and a three step cantor. On his back Atalanta gripped a lance firmly in her left hand. Her right hand rested lightly on her lap.

“What the hell happened?”

Blackie was a gentle animal that didn’t possess a three step gait! Yet here he was prancing ready for war. The simple homemade spear Atalanta carried spoke loudly. With one accord they moved to the back door and met Atalanta at the barn where she was just dismounting.

Ben moved to take the reins, “Here I’ll unsaddle and rub him down.”

Atalanta made no move to untie the reins, “Blackie and I came to an understanding out there.”

They followed her into the barn watching as she soaked a cloth with water cleaning his nostrils and then wiping his neck free of sweat. Ben and Eloise stood back and watched as she next loosened the cinch, then removing the bridle before giving him a few sips of water.
After removing the saddle and blanket they watched as she used a stable towel to dry his back, and then groomed him using various combs.

I led him into his stall, added two cups of oats to his feed and filled his trough with fresh water, watching to make certain that he didn’t drink too fast or too much. I turned to watch Ben examining my spear.

Slipping my arm around Blackie’s neck I cradled his head, “Blackie caught a predator’s scent which neither of us could see. I felt the need for a long range weapon and I found a stand of oaks and hickories, so I made a spear. Blackie seemed to understand what I was doing so I gave him his head to get us out of there. And he came through like a champ. Didn’t you boy?”

Blackie agreed.

Husband and wife exchanged quick glances then looked from me to Blackie, “Atalanta,” Ben chuckled, “You are just chocked full of surprises.”

I smiled.

“It’s about time to head out to the picnic area,” Eloise announced.

I gawked, stopped short by the sight that greeted my eyes. The Devil’s Washboard site had been transformed into a celebration reminiscent of a renaissance village, complete with tents of all types in festive colors, including those with peaked roofs and open front and/or sides. Smoke hung close to one tent that my nose said was the food cart. Pennants and banners were strung from tent to tent; their rainbow of colors dancing on the wind.

Painted lines indicated where outdoor games like the egg toss, cakewalk, and others were being played. Set up against one large boulder a band was playing seasonal tunes.

Under one large open air tent hastily arranged benches and tables had been set up to eat at. That area was occupied by women, children, and older adults. There was a buzz of activity as the children scampered about, with the adults moving among groups with either a drink or a plate of food in their hands; sometimes they held both.

“How …”

“How did we get this set up so quickly,” Eloise smiled. “After you went to bed we did our planning. The food was already being prepared, so all we had to was to set the tents up.”

“Still, it is a remarkable achievement.”

Ben who hadn’t stopped with us returned with several people in tow, a couple I recognized from last night.

“Atalanta, are you ready?” he asked.

“Word must have spread that the entertainment has arrived,” I mused as more and more people noticed us, and the din gradually lessened as they began moving to a better location to view the washed out area.

“They might want to move over there,” I suggested pointing to a location farther south giving the watchers a more panoramic view.

“You’re not starting at the bottom of the cliff?”

“No, over there,” I replied, pointing at a sloped 10 foot boulder that marked the farthest distance the rubble from the rock slide had moved. The array of boulders formed a rough backwards “D” with the cabin nestled inside the rocky curvature. The inline boulder formation consisted of six rocky tumors that led directly to the scarred face of the cliff. Each outcropping was separated by seven- ten yards except between the third and fourth; those two were twenty to twenty five yards apart.

Ben’s eyes narrowed as he traced my route, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I nodded walking toward my starting line and began stretching, deep breathing and focusing on the route that lay ahead.

The throng of people faded from view replaced by that of a battlefield. Morning mists rose from the surface obscuring a clear view of the battle. I could clearly hear the war cries and those of the wounded and dying. Suddenly a huge warrior holding a humongous sword in both hands appeared directly in front of me. His metal helmet concealed much of his features but for his red glowing eyes. He looked straight at me and his mouth twisted as if in recognition. But before I could react the vision faded leaving behind a growing knot of anger forming in my gut. I deliberately began to tamp down the embers that the visage had fanned.

Buying myself time to regain my focus, I started my warm up again; concentrating on my fighting forms and katas. I sensed unrest starting to take hold of the crowd and for a moment wondered if I could regain my core. Almost immediately I felt a presence swell inside me bringing with it an expected end.

I nodded to Ben that I was ready who turned to the crowd holding up his hands. Instantly I sprinted from the starting blocks toward the first obstacle, dashing up its slope and crossing it’s surface at top speed. My launch into space and the subsequent landing occurred, pushing off on my right foot and landing in stride on my left foot. My feet lightly kissed the rocky surface as again I seemingly defied gravity to float across the next expanse.

The widening gulf after the third obstacle loomed large, it’s leviathan-like opening threatening to dash me against its rocky fangs.

Surely I raced towards my own destruction!

Instead at the last possible second I chose to run lightly across the rope that the various banners and pennants were strung from. Supported by two poles they bridged the gap between the two rocky boulders.

From there on it was a repeat from yesterday, except I didn’t run the mesa; instead I turned around and immediately descended the mountain again at a dead run.

I watched the festivities from my remote corner of the room, thankful I could find a few minutes alone. The celebration had moved from the old shack to the town hall shortly after my run. The weather had turned nasty and it had begun snowing heavily, forcing the ceremonies inside. I was given a plate of food that I quickly ate and then went to the Donner home and changed into clean slacks and blouse, leaving my hat at home but pinning up my hair.

The dancing and music stopped for solemn exchanges of gifts between various tribal leaders. I suddenly felt someone invade my personal space as a young man in his late teens walked over to stand beside me. He pretended to be intently watching the dais but I felt his gaze.

“You were totally cool today. I don’t see how you were able to do that and make it look so easy.”

“Thanks,” I replied dryly looking for Eloise.

“Wanna’ dance?” he asked inching closer, his eyes roving over my body.

“No,” I replied picking my drink up from the table that stood at my side and walking away with his gaze following me.

Creep I thought, as I sipped my drink looking for a familiar face.

In another corner seated at a table I spotted three other girls about my age, and a couple of empty chairs. I made a beeline for the relative safety of other girls, all the while berating myself for what on one hand I considered to be a cowardly retreat, but on the other hand behavior that was expected of females.

Screw it, I decided, if that boy couldn’t take a hint and he followed me over to the table, I’d plant him on his backside. I ain’t no damsel in distress I snorted to myself, my fingers flexing and stretching.

“This seat taken?” I asked the girls.

“No, sit down we wanted to talk with you anyway.” The three girls’ names were Darcy, Penny, and Vickie.

“We were beginning to think that it just a myth that someone had made it to the top of the Devil’s Washboard,” Darcy added after I sat down.

“And they won’t even let us girls try,” Penny pouted petulant before a giggle escaped her lips to belie her frosty appearance.

Vickie picked up the gauntlet and ran with it, “We’re just supposed to be bobble headed bimbos,” she dramatically exclaimed nodding agreement.

“And to think it took a girl to do it.”

“Girl power,” the three chorused to high fives.

“Who’s that,” I asked grinning at their antics, but indicating the boy that was loitering close by.

“Oh, that’s Marty Weaver; he gives me the creeps,” Penny answered.

I nodded in complete agreement, understanding her use of the creepy label. The other girls exchanged knowing looks and in that moment I acknowledged a shared history that previously had been hidden from me. And I understood a little more about being female.

“I got that same vibe”

Sipping my drink, I occasionally added a comment or answered a question, content to sit and absorb and reflect on the revelation.

“Whew,” I uttered wiping my brow, “Is it hot in here or is it me?”

The girls agreed it was me.

“Maybe you’re coming down with a bug?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Fresh air might help clear your head,” Darcy suggested.

Fresh air: Yeah that might help, I thought rising slowly from the table.

“Better get your coat it is cold outside,” Penny warned.

“Yeah, I’ll get my coat,” I mumbled, hesitating before changing course to the coat rack.

“Wait, I’ll go with you,” Vicki said as she got up to walk over beside me.

“I’ll be alright,” I assured her, “but if I’m not back in a few minutes come after me.”

“Okay.”

I shrugged into my coat and then walked over, opened the front door to go and stand under the overhanging roof of the porch. Breathing deeply of the fresh cold air, I watched the snow falling and enclosing the area in a foggy mist reducing visibility to a few feet.
Sucking deep breaths of the frigid and humid air brought tears to my eyes, as well as a brilliant display of lights. I staggered against a support post. From my peripheral, Marty’s leering face loomed large and I cursed as Mom’s warning about watching my drink at all times rushed to the fore. I willed myself to stand erect before pitching head first into the blackness.

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Comments

Roofied ?

It almost sounds like there is something in her drink. I wonder if the creep did it?

Gwen

A creep

probably does creepy things so I wouldn't be surprised.

ut oh

that's bad sounds as if a certain creepy young man slipped Atalanta a Mickey finn, But that's a lil to easy the creepy guy stalking the pretty girl. It sounds as if the insider made their move to get Atalanta to the kidnappers, I Guess they do not realise the hell they about to realease on them selves . there again it could have been slipped into her plate of food as she was given the plate full, I guesss we shall have to wait and see, And it seems as if a certain Authoress has been taking cliffhanger lessons ( most unfair) oh well just have to wait for the next chapter.

Matt

I am with you

I don't believe these kidnappers are going to like the outcome either. Cliffhangers? Yeah this one just seemed like a natural jumping off place.

oh crap.

not good ... not good at all

DogSig.png

Dorothy there

are all kinds of villains after Atalanta it seems.

Perhaps Atalanta unknowingly

Perhaps Atalanta unknowingly brought this on to herself because she unexpectedly allowed others to "announce" her due to her running skills. If the idea was to keep her at Whateley quietly and without fanfare, that seems to have definitely gone out the door, just at this shindig she is attending at the tribal grounds. That would easily allow those who are after her to make their moves on her.

Despite her physcial skills

Atalanta doesn't have much experience to call on. I guess you can say the "grown-ups" should have known better though.

hmm

You know I think that theres still a leak at Whatley. Due to the fact that Atalanta is staying in the village but only a few ppl knew it was arranged and those guys at the hut were in position before Atalanta got there. I mean they had to be has it was only after the 1st night and Atalanta was doing her 1st run and saw the reflection in the far tree line. and they had a insider to help arrange things but it was only due to the get together that they have an easier chance to grab her.
And we know that Manny has given her a few errm gifts ( remembers certain items of jewellery)
poor smucks and I think there will be a few angery Were's prowling around aswell

Matt

A Leak? At Whateley?

Say it ain't so! LOL.

There was that reflection and the feeling of being watched when her and Blackie went riding that morning. The reason for the hut and why you might be both right and not right should become clearer in the next chapter. If it doesn't I may need to rewrite the last couple of chapters.

Can of worms

Jamie Lee's picture

Creepy guy may just have bitten off more than he can chew. But he doesn't know it yet, especially if he's unaware of Atalanta's abilities.

I smell a major butt kicking coming up, one which won't soon be forgotten.

Wonder when the weapons cache will be used?

Others have feelings too.

Some people never learn

and a butt kicking is sometimes needed.

I have more books in mind for Atalanta so the answer to the weapons cache is that they will come into play. This series is getting to be complicated and I'm not sure how long I can keep the details in my mind. lol

Katie

Well

Tas's picture

He moves fast, only had a single try. I'm kinda surprised she didn't catch on before she went outside. People with high physical training know their bodies well, and abnormalities are often quickly discovered.

-Tas

The first time

you have no references to consider and she thought that the fresh air would revive her besides what was placed in her drink wasn't anything mild.

oh no no no

I told her to watch after her drink. Just kidding :).
Life always have the 'up' and the 'down'.Now its her turn to be save I guess.. I just hope she will not going to be rape. Oh please no. Kayda story is traumatic enough.