Arson In The Colony

“Kill ‘em.” The words burned in my mind. I knew he meant it. Fear filled me. My heart was beating so fast I couldn’t get enough air with the gag in my mouth. I thought my heart would explode if I didn’t suck the gag down my throat first.
We had solved the mystery, but no one would ever know. We had been caught before we could tell. My hands were tied behind my back. My newest friend, my best friend, was tied beside me. We were in an old shed on a dirt floor, hungry, thirsty, and mosquito bitten. I could feel a tick sucking blood out of a place on my belt line. The itch wouldn’t have been so bad if I could have scratched it.
Before we moved to Wilburton, my life was relatively peaceful and uneventful. I lived like all boys did in Kansas, playing tag, riding bikes, swimming on hot summer days and climbing trees. Moving to Southeastern Oklahoma was almost like moving to a foreign country. Everything seemed to be different: insects, animals, terrain and people.