So we slow down and leave the trail to get a good look at what’s going on before whoever is doing the shooting can see us, we dismount to walk up to...the ridge line.From a point in the trees about twenty feet to the right of the trail we see a small clearing while we stay hidden in the trees. In the clearing are the slavers fighting a group of Indians. Although this is west of their normal range they’re a small Comanche war party. I expected Navajo, Chiricahua Apaches, or Jicarilla Apaches. I flip open thephone and answer it."Hey man," I said. "What's new?" Hey, Do you remember my friend Chase?" he said."Yeah sure," I said. "He was your best man at your wedding last year." He-" Ron says something. I can't hear him. It's muffled. I hear abuzzing in the background. It's getting louder. And louder.Tuesday, September 30, 1997I wake up in a cold sweat to my alarm clock buzzing. I reached out andturned it off. What was with that dream? Actually it was more like amemory resurfacing. Now. More

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