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Description
Previous:

Sound the bugle now - play it just for me
As the seasons change - remember how I used to be
Now I can't go on - I can't even start
I've got nothing left - just an empty heart

I'm a soldier - wounded so I must give up the fight
There's nothing more for me - lead me away...
Or leave me lying here

Sound the bugle now - tell them I don't care
There 's not a road I know - that leads to anywhere
Without a light I fear that I will - stumble in the dark
Lay right down - decide not to go on

Then from on high - somewhere in the distance
There's a voice that calls - remember who you are
If you lose yourself - your courage soon will follow
So be strong tonight - remember who you are
Ya you're a soldier now - fighting in a battle
To be free once more...
Ya that's worth fighting for

The red puddle grew larger in the sand. How he had ended up on the ground like this he didn’t know. His eyes darted between the people standing there around him, watching helplessly, before ending up looking at Svea who did her best to control her tears as she sat beside him. Ron gasped for air, blood bubbled in the corner of his mouth, his voice sounding strange. She held his hand hard. Somewhere on his other side Revenge was hovering close, for once not minding all the people. The horse however didn’t let anyone near his head so they could catch him, once more his ears flat against his scull, his lips pulled back into a horsey snarl. Nobody came close enough to even try. Ron fought to speak even if he hardly could breathe. Strangely nothing seemed to hurt, there were no real pain; he just felt so cold. He touched his chest with his hand and as he lifted it he saw it was completely red with blood. His eyes filled up with more tears, instinctively knowing it was bad, really bad. Strangely it didn’t hurt; nothing at all. His eyes darted back to the blonde woman beside him, feeling his panic rise.

“…I don’t want this, Boss...please…please I don’t…want…to…I want…to ride…please…let me ride…please…this is my dream…ours…me and…Rev…we…suppose to…get the crown…” He tried to take a deep breath, but that only caused him to cough, making a small trail of blood run from the corner of his mouth. The man made an attempt to move but just couldn’t. Svea watched in horror on the amount of blood that still seemed to grow under him, even if most got sucked up by the sand in the paddock. It…it was so unreal…this didn’t…this didn’t happen…please let it be a horrible, horrible nightmare! She had pulled off her soft pink cotton jacket to stop the bleeding; pressing the fabric to the wound with one hand but by now that too was soaked and colored a deep red. After what seemed to be an eternity the sound of the ambulance was heard.

His voice was thin and he gasped for more air as she turned her focus back to him at the same time the medics rushed out of the car and started to work on him. Svea still held his hand in hers and by now the grooms had at least gotten hold of Rev so he wasn’t in the way. The horse refused to move from the scene however. As Ron looked at the horse he saw Rev he remembered his words from the morning. A tear made its way down his slightly muddy cheek.

“…Boss... Give Shannon…the roses…” Ron stretched for some of the roses Rev had been wearing around his neck that now lay scattered on the ground after falling off in the commotion as he made an effort to speak again. “…I promised…her…these…tell…please…tell…her…tell her….I love…her…I…I al…ways lo…” he let out a soft sigh and then his voice trailed off in a gurgle - then there was…just silence. No more struggling breaths, his eyes unseeing. His hand became limp and cold in hers. The other hand held a rose that was stained with blood. At that point Svea couldn’t stop her tears any longer. Sobbing she leaned over his red splattered chest and cried. She didn’t care about the medics, didn’t care about the ones in the circle where you normally crowned the winner of each race. All of the ones there seemed to be in chock and there were some sort of paralyzed feeling over it all. She didn’t care that she normally wouldn’t even shed a tear in public. Last time had been when Sailor broke down. How would she be able to tell Shannon? Stepping back slightly the medics let her be; there were nothing to be done anyway.

The dark horse lowered his head and nosed on his riders pale face after dragging the grooms with him to the body. At first the horse jerked back as the metallic scent of blood became so strong but he soon moved passed that. Rev let his upper lip play with the redbrown hair that was still damp with sweat. A soft, pleading nicker was heard, urging the man to move. Usually at this point when they played that game the man would blow air in his face, but now nothing happened. Why didn’t the man move? Why didn’t he play with him? For the second time since he escaped the darkness his ears pointed forward, desperately listening for a sound, any sound at all from the human he loved the most in the whole wide world.

The man with the pony tail grunted in slight disappointment. Things hadn’t gone like planned but the man then smiled anyway; maybe this was better after all. Tobar couldn’t complain about it. Not with this twist. This would hurt her more that if he had shot the horse he figured. If the jockey hadn’t leaned forward just when he had pulled the trigger, then it had been the horse that would have lain there, bleeding out, as the plan first had been. This would probably affect her more mentally than if it had been the horse. Weak minded woman! Well…he could always change his mind, he could always do it again…might make it even more fun…there were plenty of those illegal bullets left. Why not double the pain on one day that was supposed to be special. He looked at the scene below him for a moment then put down the rifle in the case. No, Tobar had just said to use one for today. The case he put in the janitor cart he had ‘borrowed’ from the real one, keeping the weapon out of sight until he got out of here. The real janitor lay half beaten to death in a closet. Nobody suspected a thing as he left despite the flow of cops and a second ambulance down there. Nobody ever suspected the janitor and certainly not one that had been on the other end of things. Without any problem at all he could walk out of there like nothing had happened. They would be confused as headless hens for a while and during that time you could get away without any big trouble he knew that, the magic of people in shock. Carlito Guerrero, the sniper once known as ‘Chaufa’ that was awarded for his services and skill, answered the cellphone on the first ring at the same time as he came up to his black SUV and tossed the metal case in the backseat.

“…yeah…it’s done…sort of…”

[I don’t speak Spanish but: chaufa: saludo de despedida – saying goodbye in a quick manner - when you have to leave quickly.]

Lyrics: [link]

Description
Previous:

Sound the bugle now - play it just for me
As the seasons change - remember how I used to be
Now I can't go on - I can't even start
I've got nothing left - just an empty heart

I'm a soldier - wounded so I must give up the fight
There's nothing more for me - lead me away...
Or leave me lying here

Sound the bugle now - tell them I don't care
There 's not a road I know - that leads to anywhere
Without a light I fear that I will - stumble in the dark
Lay right down - decide not to go on

Then from on high - somewhere in the distance
There's a voice that calls - remember who you are
If you lose yourself - your courage soon will follow
So be strong tonight - remember who you are
Ya you're a soldier now - fighting in a battle
To be free once more...
Ya that's worth fighting for

The red puddle grew larger in the sand. How he had ended up on the ground like this he didn’t know. His eyes darted between the people standing there around him, watching helplessly, before ending up looking at Svea who did her best to control her tears as she sat beside him. Ron gasped for air, blood bubbled in the corner of his mouth, his voice sounding strange. She held his hand hard. Somewhere on his other side Revenge was hovering close, for once not minding all the people. The horse however didn’t let anyone near his head so they could catch him, once more his ears flat against his scull, his lips pulled back into a horsey snarl. Nobody came close enough to even try. Ron fought to speak even if he hardly could breathe. Strangely nothing seemed to hurt, there were no real pain; he just felt so cold. He touched his chest with his hand and as he lifted it he saw it was completely red with blood. His eyes filled up with more tears, instinctively knowing it was bad, really bad. Strangely it didn’t hurt; nothing at all. His eyes darted back to the blonde woman beside him, feeling his panic rise.

“…I don’t want this, Boss...please…please I don’t…want…to…I want…to ride…please…let me ride…please…this is my dream…ours…me and…Rev…we…suppose to…get the crown…” He tried to take a deep breath, but that only caused him to cough, making a small trail of blood run from the corner of his mouth. The man made an attempt to move but just couldn’t. Svea watched in horror on the amount of blood that still seemed to grow under him, even if most got sucked up by the sand in the paddock. It…it was so unreal…this didn’t…this didn’t happen…please let it be a horrible, horrible nightmare! She had pulled off her soft pink cotton jacket to stop the bleeding; pressing the fabric to the wound with one hand but by now that too was soaked and colored a deep red. After what seemed to be an eternity the sound of the ambulance was heard.

His voice was thin and he gasped for more air as she turned her focus back to him at the same time the medics rushed out of the car and started to work on him. Svea still held his hand in hers and by now the grooms had at least gotten hold of Rev so he wasn’t in the way. The horse refused to move from the scene however. As Ron looked at the horse he saw Rev he remembered his words from the morning. A tear made its way down his slightly muddy cheek.

“…Boss... Give Shannon…the roses…” Ron stretched for some of the roses Rev had been wearing around his neck that now lay scattered on the ground after falling off in the commotion as he made an effort to speak again. “…I promised…her…these…tell…please…tell…her…tell her….I love…her…I…I al…ways lo…” he let out a soft sigh and then his voice trailed off in a gurgle - then there was…just silence. No more struggling breaths, his eyes unseeing. His hand became limp and cold in hers. The other hand held a rose that was stained with blood. At that point Svea couldn’t stop her tears any longer. Sobbing she leaned over his red splattered chest and cried. She didn’t care about the medics, didn’t care about the ones in the circle where you normally crowned the winner of each race. All of the ones there seemed to be in chock and there were some sort of paralyzed feeling over it all. She didn’t care that she normally wouldn’t even shed a tear in public. Last time had been when Sailor broke down. How would she be able to tell Shannon? Stepping back slightly the medics let her be; there were nothing to be done anyway.

The dark horse lowered his head and nosed on his riders pale face after dragging the grooms with him to the body. At first the horse jerked back as the metallic scent of blood became so strong but he soon moved passed that. Rev let his upper lip play with the redbrown hair that was still damp with sweat. A soft, pleading nicker was heard, urging the man to move. Usually at this point when they played that game the man would blow air in his face, but now nothing happened. Why didn’t the man move? Why didn’t he play with him? For the second time since he escaped the darkness his ears pointed forward, desperately listening for a sound, any sound at all from the human he loved the most in the whole wide world.

The man with the pony tail grunted in slight disappointment. Things hadn’t gone like planned but the man then smiled anyway; maybe this was better after all. Tobar couldn’t complain about it. Not with this twist. This would hurt her more that if he had shot the horse he figured. If the jockey hadn’t leaned forward just when he had pulled the trigger, then it had been the horse that would have lain there, bleeding out, as the plan first had been. This would probably affect her more mentally than if it had been the horse. Weak minded woman! Well…he could always change his mind, he could always do it again…might make it even more fun…there were plenty of those illegal bullets left. Why not double the pain on one day that was supposed to be special. He looked at the scene below him for a moment then put down the rifle in the case. No, Tobar had just said to use one for today. The case he put in the janitor cart he had ‘borrowed’ from the real one, keeping the weapon out of sight until he got out of here. The real janitor lay half beaten to death in a closet. Nobody suspected a thing as he left despite the flow of cops and a second ambulance down there. Nobody ever suspected the janitor and certainly not one that had been on the other end of things. Without any problem at all he could walk out of there like nothing had happened. They would be confused as headless hens for a while and during that time you could get away without any big trouble he knew that, the magic of people in shock. Carlito Guerrero, the sniper once known as ‘Chaufa’ that was awarded for his services and skill, answered the cellphone on the first ring at the same time as he came up to his black SUV and tossed the metal case in the backseat.

“…yeah…it’s done…sort of…”

[I don’t speak Spanish but: chaufa: saludo de despedida – saying goodbye in a quick manner - when you have to leave quickly.]

Lyrics: [link]