The dust rose from the force of the pounding feet of the soldiers. It swirled up in spirals into the throats and eyes of the ragged prisoners. Their chains clanked, as they were unlocked and the gaunt captives where forced to their knees in a line, their hands on their heads. Soldiers walked down the line, tying the captives' hands.
In front of them a small crowd was gathering. Their empty eyes and skeletal faces stared at the line of insurgents. Now that they were gone the broken people had no hope. One of the brown women with a pale, ragged girl-child moaned when a soldier slammed the butt of his gun into the head of one of the rebels.
She collapsed to the ground the dust rising in a mist around her. Her steely, dark eyes looked up at the pale face of the soldier. He sneered at her upon realizing she was only a girl just out of her youth. Slowly she struggled to her feet and spat in the soldier's face. The groans of the crowd froze, the soldiers paused and the other revolutionaries stared at the young girl.
She stared straight ahead, her chin up and her eyes hard. The slap of the soldier sent her to the ground again.
She made to stand again, but the throbbing of marching feet caused the soldier to put a foot on her back and push her into the ground.
Through the dust in her eyes she watched a troop of the pale-skinned foreigners came into the grimy square. At the sight of its head the crowd groaned collectively.
The general held his head high as one of his lieutenant handed him a loaded gun. He walked to the end of the line and held the gun to the head of the first rebel.
Boom. She turned away as blood soaked into the dry ground. Slowly as the general worked his way down the line she reached her belt. The knife hidden in her belt buckle was glued to its sheath with an unknown substance. She struggled to loosen it as the general shot a sobbing woman three people down. As he moved closer it came loose and she sawed furiously with at her bonds. They snapped just as the general moved to point the gun at her head.
"Hágoónee´." She told him and sprung to her feet striking his wrist, numbing it. A swift kick to the head knocked him to his knees. As fast as her failing body could, she was climbing a house and running from her death.
The rebellion lived.