Light for a Vanished Sun

Brenda froze in the stable where she lay. Strangers with painted clubs crept throughthe pueblo, starlight glinting off their silver necklaces, belts and ear loops. Quietas fog they entered individual houses. First came the crack as bones were crushed,then the shrieks of terror.A screaming woman ran past the stall with a naked infant in her arms. “Navajo!Navajo!” She cried as if it were as vile a curse as she could utter.The girls crouched in the far corner of the stall, trying to be still, unnoticed. But theirbodies shook with fright and. Merrilee began to wail.“Hush, baby, hush!” Brenda charged, shielding her sister between herself and the wall.“They can’t see us. Everything will be okay. Just be quiet.” She tried to close her eyes andpretend that they were all having the same nightmare but her eyes wouldn’t stay shut andshe watched the dark, hair-raising spectacle that ran wild in the center of the pueblo.The invaders lit torches from the live coals in the central fire pit and eerie, nimbleshadows flickered across her vision like a video game. One of the strange men lifted awoman over his shoulder and raced into the night. Dogs barked; children howled; womenshrieked and in the midst of the din came the sickening sounds of bones cracking beneaththe heavy blows of the clubs. Sarah crept to the stall opening.“Oh, Jesus,” Brenda breathed, “Lord, Jesus . . . help!”Sarah crawled back, “They’re cracking people’s skulls out there . . .”