"She is Onijwa," White Cloud said, sticking out his gaunt chin as if the grey man would dispute it. The other Indians glanced at him, but said nothing..."Right," the grey man nodded and coughed lightly. "Okay, uh. It's up to you anyway. Um, Mrs. Brocken, I need you to sign here and ... here, please."He approached me slowly, crouching and pointing with his finger as he held the clipboard. The pen was awkward in my hand and I had to remember how to hold one, and I almost smiled as I carefully wrote. ?Good evening,? he says softly with a slight smile. ?Keepyour eyes straight forward.? ?What?? In reply, he turns his hand, resting on the thigh nearest me, around to reveala sharp blade. ?Look forward or I'll use this.? Oh my God. I'm in a coach, surrounded by people. How can this be happening?My eyes snap instantly forward, but I hiss, ?I'll scream and they'll throwyou off the coach.? In a moment he had the knife up against my ribs. ?Before they get to me, thiswill be buried inside your body.?. More

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