Authors: Glenn R. Petrucci
Tags: #Time-travel, #Timecaching, #Cherokee, #Timecachers, #eBook, #American Indian, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Trail of Tears, #Native American
“Git these injuns tied up and loaded in the carts,” said Jeb.
Two of the men tightly bound Adam and Jimmy’s wrists behind their back with short, coarse lengths of rope, and then began to do the same to Rebecca.
“Is there a need to tie my wife’s hands?” Jimmy demanded. “Are you afraid she will overpower seven men?”
The man stopped tying Rebecca’s hands and looked at Jeb, who scoffed and waved the man away. It was the first act of borderline decency Adam had seen from Jeb and was tempted to take advantage of it.
“Will you at least let them gather a few of their possessions?” he said to Jeb.
“Injuns don’t believe in no possessions,” he replied tersely. “No more ‘n an animal does.” He paused for a moment, as if considering Adam’s request. “But I guess I’ll let ‘em gather up a few things.”
He scratched at his scraggly beard as he lecherously appraised Rebecca, his eyes wandering the length of her body. Adam noticed the leering grin and worried that Jeb’s sudden show of decency was only a ruse for a more sinister agenda.
“Zack, you and Joseph get these two loaded up and on their way to the fort,” Jeb said, indicating Adam and Jimmy, “and me and the other boys will foller along later in the other cart with the little squaw here and some of their things. Drop ‘em off and wait for us in town. We’ll be along soon enough.”
“I’m not leaving my wife behind,” Jimmy said firmly.
“Ya ain’t, huh? Zack, git these two loaded up. If they give ya any trouble, shoot ‘em,” Jeb said with a daring glare at Jimmy.
Zack grabbed Jimmy by the arm and attempted to load him into the horse cart. Jimmy twisted from his grasp and said, “I’m not leaving without my wife!”
In one swift motion, Jeb stepped up behind Jimmy, retrieved a lead filled sap from his pocket, and with a snap of his wrist brought the blackjack down on the back of Jimmy’s head. Jimmy instantly dropped unconscious to the ground. Rebecca shrieked as he fell.
“Now load him up. And ya better hogtie him so he don’t give ya no more trouble when he comes to.”
Zack and one of the others picked up Jimmy and heaved him roughly into the cart, then tied his ankles looping the rope through his bound wrists.
Jeb turned to Adam, slapping the blackjack against the palm of his hand. “How you wanna go? Lights on or off?”
Adam did not reply, but glanced at Rebecca who was trying unsuccessfully to hold back her tears.
“Please go with Jimmy,” she said.
“But Rebecca…” He looked at her with uncertainty.
“You must go. I will be fine.”
“Yeah, she’ll be just fine,” said Jeb mockingly. “Now git in the cart afore I bust your head, too.”
Adam reluctantly climbed into the cart, sitting on the floor next to Jimmy. He was extremely uneasy about leaving Rebecca with Jeb and his four thugs. He felt completely helpless, having no option other than to do as he was told or suffer Jeb’s violence. He was no coward; he would willingly resist if he thought it would be of any use. A struggle against these armed thugs would be futile. If he were knocked unconscious, or worse, he would be of no use to anyone.
He looked at the unconscious body of Jimmy, prostrate on the floor of the cart, then into Rebecca’s tearful eyes. “I’ll do what I can for him. And I’ll demand to speak to the colonel about this as soon as I get to the fort.”
“You do that,” Jeb snickered. “Git ‘em outa here, Zack.”
Zack and Joseph climbed into the seat of the cart and with a curt flick of the reins Zack put them in motion. Joseph, a heavyset, slovenly looking man, sat facing backwards, gun drawn, keeping watch on Adam and Jimmy.
Sitting low in the cart, Adam quickly lost sight of Rebecca. He knew it wasn’t a very long ride to the fort at New Echota. He would speak to the colonel as soon as they arrived, and make him aware of the transgressions of Jeb. Surely a United States military officer would not condone this sort of thuggish behavior, and would send out a few soldiers to assure Rebecca’s safety. He turned his attention to Jimmy, still unconscious and laying in a terribly contorted position. His legs, flailing with each bump in the road, were pulling against his arms and cinching the rope tighter with each bounce. He looked at Joseph and asked, “Is it really necessary to hogtie him that way? He’s hardly a threat while he is unconscious.”
“I’ll untie him when we git to the fort,” Joseph replied.
Adam shifted his position, putting his back toward Jimmy so he could use his hands to try and pull him into a more natural position.
“Don’t be a-fussin’ with him ‘less ya wanna be hogtied too,” snarled Joseph.
“I’m just trying to keep the ropes from cutting off his circulation. If he’s crippled when we get to the fort, you’ll have to carry him.” The look on Joseph’s plump face confirmed what Adam expected—the man didn’t relish doing any more physical labor than absolutely necessary.
Joseph grunted and said, “Just don’t try anything funny. I’d just as soon shoot ya both right now and save myself the trouble of foolin’ with ya.”
With some effort, Adam was able to move Jimmy enough to brace his feet against the side of the cart, giving him some relief from the strain of the rope pulling against his arms. Still, when he came to, Jimmy was going to be in plenty of pain, and extremely concerned for Rebecca if she had not yet made it to the fort.
He turned back to face Jimmy, looking him over. There was no blood as far as he could see. Adam knew that after sustaining such a brutal blow to the back of his head, Jimmy should be examined for signs of concussion. If his hands were free, he could at least inspect his pupils for disparity. Not much chance that his two guards would go along with that. A decent examination of serious head injury would have to wait until he was untied and Jimmy regained consciousness. If he was concussed, any further rough treatment could be deadly. The mental anxiety of being forced from his home and his worry about Rebecca could exacerbate a brain injury.
The ride to Fort Wool was mercifully short. Zack drove the cart unchallenged through the gates, receiving a curt nod from the guards, and proceeded to the large, newly constructed blockhouse.
“Two more for ya,” said Zack to the soldier standing guard at the entrance to the blockhouse. “Some of that Deerinwater bunch.”
“What the hell?” said the soldier. “This one’s out cold and trussed up like a chicken, and the other ‘n don’t hardly look injun to me.”
“He gave Jeb a bunch o’ lip, so he had t’ conk him one. That other ‘n was with ‘em. Half-breed, I guess.”
“You’re only supposed to round up the injuns, ya know. Not every dang half-breed in the county.”
“He was with Deerinwater and they was on Jeb’s list. I ain’t about t’ be arguin’ with Jeb. Ya’ll can sort ‘em out here.”
Adam was fairly certain he could get himself released. He would not be listed on the Georgia Cherokee census, and his physical appearance was more European than Native American. Not having any way to prove his identity might be a problem; then again, he doubted that anyone in this century carried proof of identity. Driver’s licenses didn’t exist yet and passports were uncommon. He might receive some questioning about his being in Georgia, for which he could probably find some credible explanation. For the moment he needed to remain in the fort. His priority was to determine Jimmy’s condition and make sure he received medical attention if he needed it, and to speak to the fort commander about the treatment they had received from Jeb’s gang, and to express his concern for Rebecca’s safety. He needed to convince him to send someone after her if she didn’t show up soon.
“I demand to speak with Colonel Lindsey immediately,” he said to the soldier as he was pulled from the cart.
For a moment the soldier stared at him slack-jawed. Then he burst into uproarious laughter, joined by Zack and Joseph.
“Ya do, do ya?” he said through his guffaws. “Well, then, I best make sure he knows about yer demands. No doubts he’ll want to change in t’ his best dress uniform fer ya, an’ order up some refreshments fer the two o’ ya,” he said with a wink to Zack and Joseph and more snorts of laughter.
Adam stared defiantly at the soldier. “For your own sake, you better make sure you tell him. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when he finds out you incarcerated a non-Cherokee.”
“I’m sure he’d be real upset about it,” the soldier said with a smirk. “He’ll be dealin’ with ya soon enough.” The soldier’s expression changed just enough to reveal that Adam had instilled a little doubt, hopefully enough that he would bring it to the colonel’s attention rather than risk a reprimand for his inaction.
Joseph was busy untying Jimmy’s feet while Zack dumped a canteen of water onto his head. Jimmy stirred and let out a low moan. Zack and Joseph began pulling him from the cart, causing him to wince in pain as his cramped muscles protested the abuse.
“This man needs medical attention,” Adam said severely. “He has been mistreated for no reason.”
“Well, I could get him some medical attention,” said the soldier, “but right now our veterinarian is tending to some sick pigs. And they’re more important than this here injun,” he said, getting more snorts and snickers from Zack and Joseph.
“I’m fine,” said Jimmy, not very convincingly. “Where is Rebecca?”
“You should be checked by a doctor,” said Adam, avoiding his question. “He gave you quite a knock on the head. It could be more serious than you realize.”
“I ain’t got time to be listenin’ t’ all this jabberin’,” said the soldier, as he opened the gate to the stockade. “Get inside, then ya’ll can chinwag all ya want,” he said, shoving them both through the gate, causing Jimmy, still not fully in control of his balance, to go sprawling to the ground.
Adam crouched alongside Jimmy, awkwardly trying to help him to his feet—not an easy task as both still had their hands tied behind their back. Together they stumbled to a place against the rough-hewn timbers of the stockade wall, where they slunk to the dirt floor. For a few moments they said nothing, looking around at the other people inside the stockade. There were people of all ages; men and women both young and old, and perhaps a dozen children. Some were obviously families, sitting together on the ground. Others appeared to be lone individuals, sitting alone or leaning against the wall. They heard some low murmurings from parents attempting to console frightened children, along with an undercurrent of stifled weeping. Mostly the compound was eerily quiet. No one looked directly at them. Many sat staring at the ground, although Adam noticed a few unfriendly glances at him—certainly not the kindly Cherokee faces he had gotten used to. These were looks of distrust, even hostility. Not completely unexpected, he thought, given that he was obviously a member of the race who had subjected them to this indignity.
Adam could see the roof of the fort’s blockhouse above the walls which provided barracks for the soldiers, and an attached parapet-like structure serving as a guardhouse overlooking the stockade. Inside the walls were two additional sheds which housed sleeping bunks for the detainees. Along the far wall was a shallow, open trench bordered on one side by a low rail; presumably the stockade toilet facility.
He turned his attention to Jimmy, looking into his pupils for signs of concussion and thankfully finding none. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
Jimmy did not respond. He looked at Adam as if he had just asked him the dumbest possible question.
“I mean physically. I’m only trying to make sure you haven’t been seriously injured. How is your head? Are you feeling dizzy or nauseous?”
“It hurts. But I will be fine. I was a little dizzy but I am getting better.”
“We can sit here for a while so you can rest a few minutes.”
Jimmy shook his head. “What about Rebecca? Where is she?”
“She will be here soon. They are bringing her here with some of your possessions,” Adam said, realizing as he spoke how naïve he sounded.
Jimmy put his head into his hands and looked at the ground.
“I wondered how long it would be before they brought you in, Deerinwater,” said a voice, startling Adam and Jimmy. The man had quietly approached before either had noticed.
“Jesse!” said Jimmy. “I see they have brought you here, too.”
“We came in voluntarily about a week ago,” Jesse replied. “They only started bringing folks in by force a couple days ago. You look like you have been beaten up. Where is Rebecca? Is she okay?” He glanced suspiciously at Adam, crouched beside Jimmy and began removing the rope binding his wrists.
“This is Adam, a friend of our family,” Jimmy said, flexing his shoulders and rubbing his wrists, “who has been staying with us for a few days. I suspect I would have been beaten much worse if not for his and Rebecca’s intervention. We were forcibly brought here and made to leave Rebecca behind with Jeb Barnett and his men. They are supposed to be bringing her and some of my things, but…”
“I understand. You have much cause for concern with those men, although this place does not offer much more safety.” He motioned for Adam to turn and allow his wrists to be untied. When they were unbound, he offered his hand to Adam and said, “
Osiyo
, Adam.”
“
Osiyo
, Jesse. Are you saying there have been people mistreated right here in the fort?”
“Some quite savagely. Many have been beaten. There have been several wives and daughters taken by the soldiers and…,” he stopped, seeing the horror in Jimmy’s widened eyes. “There have been incidents, but I have heard it is worse in the other, more remote forts.”