UNTITLED SO FAR
an excerpt

The sun was rising over the jagged peaks of the Sawtooth Mountains in the distance. John stepped out of his tent and breathed the brisk morning air of the mountains. Wind flying through the trees, rustling his short, black hair, and the creek trickling softly through the forest somewhere in the background. He closed his green-as-grass eyes and streched his arms towards the cloudless blue sky. As John finished stretching, he brought his hands down and heard something unexpected, the ominous spray of machine gun fire. His instincts told him to run away, but he found himself running towards the sound instead. It was easy for John to maneuver his thin, athletic body around the huge pine trees in his path, and soon reached the clearing from which the sound was coming. Startled, John flattened himself against the cold ground so that he would not be seen just as a bullet whizzed past his left ear and buried itself in a tree just behind him, sending wood chips cascading through the air.