Here's a little bit of the 3rd story from my new book, "Coming Into Focus: Another Collection of Stories." It's about an activist named Beverly Solheim who finds herself trapped in an ancient, isolated cave on sacred Lakota land. Hope you like it!
Beverly Solheim knew she was dying. It was just a question of how much longer she had until the end.
The young woman’s body trembled as she inched over the damp, rocky, unforgiving ground, unable to focus her thoughts for more than a few moments at a time. Each movement sent new shockwaves of pain throughout her naked body. Sweat poured off her brow, stinging her cracked and bloody lips while she maneuvered blindly in the stygian darkness. The world spun for a moment causing her to clutch at the bedrock, desperately trying to maintain her grip on reality. The 25-year old woman forced herself to keep moving forward, ignoring the muscle pain, stomach cramps and vertigo.
After an agonized and interminable hour, Beverly finally traversed the mere 75 yards to the section where an intermittent flow of water seeped through the cave walls. The many cracks in that alcove allowed tiny slivers of light entry with the water, breaking the all-consuming blackness. The puddles generated from the cascading liquid reflected rainbow colors in the dim light, giving her pause. She tried to remember what it meant, tried to focus on anything but the blinding agony of her current existence. Somewhere in her subconscious, she remembered it meant the water was probably contaminated with any number of hazardous materials, chemicals and other industrial sludge from the fracking going on all over that land. At this point, she didn’t have any other options. Either she died from dehydration or from drinking the polluted water.
Desperation weighed heavily on her, crushing any lingering hope within her soul. How could they? she wondered. Despite her disdain and/or animosity for her chosen targets over the years, the activist held herself to the highest standards, never allowing the ends to justify the means. Beverly, or anyone on her foundation’s staff, never vandalized property, trespassed or broke the law in any way. She preached peaceful assembly and open communication in every situation, no matter how heinous or immoral the circumstances surrounding the protests. She vowed to never sink to her opponent’s level, despite their shady and underhanded practices against her and her organization, The Free Spirit Foundation. The young woman followed the tenets of Ghandi and Martin Luther King, Jr, trusting that when you shine a light on injustice without violence, the truth will always garner the appropriate results.
When the head of Gionta-Richtor Unlimited’s PR department asked for a personal meeting, Beverly rejoiced. She thought her methods had finally borne fruit. Due to the overwhelmingly negative coverage the company was receiving online and in the media, she assumed the powers that be were ready to negotiate a peaceful compromise. Even when they asked for a clandestine, night-time meeting at a remote location, the activist chalked it up to them wanting to save face before issuing the press release. After all, a multi-national corporation having to capitulate to activists, no matter how well organized, was a publicity nightmare and everyone involved knew it. Beverly didn’t feel the need to rub their noses in their failure so she accepted their terms without hesitation. She never considered it was all a ruse, intended to get her alone so the company’s “security force” could get rid of the biggest thorn in their collective sides. Immediately after shaking hands with Jennifer Malkin, head of public relations for the conglomerate, Beverly felt a bee sting in the back of her neck. Then, the world went dark.
She awoke in her current location, just in time to see a bulldozer pushing a huge mass of dirt and rocks in front of the cave’s entrance. She surmised the “official story” would be a big city girl went exploring and got lost in the wilds of North Dakota, never to be heard from again. After many futile hours trying to clear the entranceway, Beverly set out to explore her surroundings. The almost complete darkness of the cave and her overwhelming fear and anxiety made it an almost impossible task. On day two, she discovered the alcove with the water runoff and decided immediately not to partake of the contaminated liquid. It was an easy decision since drinking the brine runoff of Gionta-Rictor’s relentless fracking would surely kill her. In the three days since, as the cave got increasingly hotter and more humid, she revisited that area more and more, her resolve waning each day. Today, when she awoke from her latest bout of unconsciousness, as she inched closer and closer to death by dehydration, the option seemed less insane. Almost by instinct she made her way back to that section of the cave and her own private “Sophie’s Choice.”
With shaking hands, Beverly scooped up some water from the nearest puddle, craning her neck to bring it to her lips. Just before taking a sip, she hesitated, looking for an indication, any small sign, to dissuade her from the notion of drinking it. Nothing. She closed her eyes tightly, her tongue darting tentatively out of her grimaced mouth. The moment it touched the water she snapped it back, gritting her teeth as she exhaled loudly. She shook her head slowly from side to side, trying to convince herself it was the right thing to do, the best choice left to her.
“Can’t do it, can ya?” a voice resonated from the area to her right. “You never could follow through with anything, Bev. Could never make the hard decision.”
For more, go to my Kickstarter campaign and donate. For a small contribution, you can own either the e-book or paperback version of Coming Into Focus. There are a lot of other reward bonuses for contributing too! Check it out here: