Timecachers (49 page)

Alice didn’t believe that Jesse really thought genocide was honorable, but she understood his point. Many treaties had been broken, and many more would be as greed overcame honor. She knew that as the country expanded west, genocide would occur. She could think of no response to Jesse’s rage.

Benjamin sensed her discomfort and made an effort to change the subject. “We should deal with the immediate situation for now,” he said. “Jesse, can you show us the accommodations while we are waiting for Adam’s return?”

“Accommodations? Ha! Your horses are provided with better accommodations. Yes, I will show you.”

They helped Jimmy to his feet and all followed Jesse to the crude barracks. The hastily constructed shelter was little more than a shed with a door-sized opening, without the door. Jesse paused at the opening, extended his hand, and said, “Welcome to your deluxe lodgings, ladies and gentlemen.”

It was dark inside the barracks; the only light was coming through the door opening. There were no windows. While they waited for their eyes to adjust, they breathed in the musty air which smelled of freshly cut lumber and damp dirt, mixed with human sweat and the faint odor of sickness. Gradually the dirt floor and racks of wooden bed pallets came into focus. A bale of straw sat in one corner, soiled blankets in another. Straw was strewn about the floor. The bunks were stacked floor to ceiling, five high, and had only straw for padding. Several of the bunks were occupied, and they could hear labored breathing and an occasional cough from the motionless forms. There was not much more to see.

“Are we going to stay here, mommy?” Sally’s soft voice broke the silence of their shock.

“Just for a little while, Sally.”

“Many of those in here are sick and feeling too bad to do more than sleep. Unfortunately, that number is growing each day. Most prefer to sleep outside,” said Jesse.

“Then that is what we shall do,” Benjamin said. He pulled Catherine aside and spoke to her quietly so that Sally and Billy could not hear. “This place smells too much of sickness. I will go and try to find a better place for us in the courtyard. Take Alice and the children with you. Perhaps you can find a way to keep them from becoming despondent.” Then to Jimmy he said, “Let us go look for a suitable place for our families. Your pregnant wife and my children need a clean place with fresh air.”

Finding a clean place was difficult. Benjamin was able to claim a reasonably private area of the courtyard somewhat sheltered by one of the barracks that was large enough for them and the Deerinwaters. Jimmy was still downhearted, but with Benjamin’s encouragement he became less miserable as he prepared a place to offer Rebecca some comfort when she arrived.

Alice and Catherine did their best to feign optimism, which helped brighten the mood of the two youngsters. They encouraged Billy and Sally to join in with some of the other children. The camaraderie distracted them from more serious matters, and before long they were in better spirits than the adults. The sound of their playing lightened everyone’s depressed mood. Alice and Catherine were drawn in, joining a circle of children and other parents, inventing games and telling stories.

Sally pleaded with Alice to tell them all her Basil the Beaver story again. It was the last thing she felt like doing, but it was impossible to resist her charm. She gave in, further encouraged by the relief it brought to Catherine to see them smiling. Alice started the story hesitantly, but grew more confident as the children all began making the animal noises and laughing at the image of Basil’s home getting full of the creatures that she painted with her words.

She finished the story with the usual clapping and cheering. Seeing the round, beaming faces of the children triggered an unexpected reaction from Alice. The color drained from her face, her eyes became moist, and she suddenly jumped up and ran from the group. Catherine followed her, not sure what had caused such an emotional display.

“What is wrong,” Catherine asked, catching up to her. “Your story brought them happiness; just what they needed.”

“Oh, my, I didn’t want to spoil it for them,” she sobbed, “but seeing their happy faces made me think about…”

“Think about what? Why did you become so sad?”

“I couldn’t keep from thinking about how many of them are not going to make it through this horrible ordeal.”

Chapter forty

R
ebecca woke with a start, suppressing a gasp when she heard them still somewhere nearby. She dared not make a sound for fear of alerting them that she was conscious. The sound of their coarse voices sharply inflamed her senses, like ice water striking the exposed root of a tooth. She blocked out the memories of the attack that tried to push their way into her mind and focused on appraising her condition. She painfully flexed her abused muscles, biting her lip to suppress a cry when moving her leg sent an icicle of agony through her pelvis. Her head throbbed, and her hips and shoulders ached from restraint and maltreatment.

She lay naked, her clothes scattered in shredded rags around her. Her arms were bound at the wrists and tied with a length of rope to the headboard, securing them above her head. She ignored the disgusting dampness beneath her; rejecting the horrifying flashbacks which would once again cast her into a bottomless abyss of despair.

They did not take her easily. She had fought them with courageous vigor, calling on every drop of warrior’s blood that ran through her veins. She was sure she had inflicted severe injury on one of the attackers, presenting him with a well-placed kick to the groin at an opportune moment. She exulted in his painful yelp; saw him fall to the floor, clutching his genitals. Even reducing their number by one, she was eventually overcome. The outcome was inevitable. They tied her arms to the bed and took their turns, each one heaving and grunting their animal lust as the other two held her legs. Once overpowered, she lay immobile, denying them any pleasure from her struggling. At least the one she kicked was unable to violate her; his molestation had been reduced to restraining her for the other two. He vented his frustration when they were through with a brutal blow to her head, knocking her unconscious. She knew he would extract his revenge even more savagely if she could not free herself before he returned.

There was little hope of that. Even if she could somehow untie her arms from the bed, she would not get far with a broken pelvis, dislocated hip, or whatever it was causing the intense pain at the uppermost joint of her leg. Escape was unlikely. When they returned, as she was certain they would, she resolved to find some way to inflict more pain. If she feigned submission, perhaps they would lower their guard enough for her to bite off an ear, or any other body part they were foolish enough to bring within range of her teeth.

As she plotted her attack, she was startled by the sound of additional voices. Had Jeb’s other two henchmen returned? The muffled voices sounded heated, as if they were arguing over who would be next to take her. She despaired at the thought of having to endure the ravages of even more attackers. The desperation led her to one possible solution; an extreme measure, but one that would permanently deny them tormenting her further. If she could just slide herself close enough to the head rail to get the rope around her neck…

Chapter forty-one

C
aptain Martin and Adam reigned in their galloping horses, raising a cloud of dust that billowed past them and onto the Deerinwater front porch, where Jeb and his two cronies sat watching them with apparent unconcern.

“What’s the rush, Jimbo? Outhouse is ‘round back, iffen ya need it real bad,” said Jeb in a smarmy tone, winking at his two cohorts who rewarded him with snorts of laughter.

“You will address me as Captain Martin, sir,” he said without a trace of amusement, his cold stare leveled at Jeb. “You were supposed to bring the Deerinwater woman and her possessions to the fort. Why have you not done so?”

“Well now, captain,” he said with a smirk, intentionally mis-pronouncing the title as
cappy-tan
. “She ain’t quite ready yet. We been makin’ sure she gits all she needs afore she leaves.”

“Undoubtedly you have been most helpful. Bring her to me immediately and we will escort her to the fort.”

“Can’t do that, cappy-tan. I’m a-feared she’s tied up at the moment,” Jeb said, inciting a chorus of snickers from the other two. “You just run along an’ we’ll bring her when she’s ready.”

“If you’ve harmed her I’ll…,” Adam threatened, before getting cut off by a hard look from Martin.

“You’ll what, sonny-boy?” Jeb spat, his words dripping with malice. He said to Martin, “Leave this little mollycoddle here an’ we’ll change his nappy fer him. Should’ve fixed his wagon last time.”

Captain Martin ignored the taunts to Adam. “You were ordered to enforce the relocation of these families, not to abuse them. And now I am ordering you to produce Rebecca Deerinwater to me, and then continue with the duties you have been assigned.”

“I take my orders from Colonel Lindsey, not you. Don’t be tryin’ t’ pull that regular army crap on me. Me and my men are contracted to the militia an’ don’t have to listen to your guff. ‘Sides, I just done told ya we was helpin’ her git ready an’ we’ll be the ones a-bringin’ her to the fort. So you can just git on.”

“You are performing duties for the Georgia militia, and are under the command of its officers. Now I am ordering you for the final time, bring forth Rebecca Deerinwater or I’ll will fetch her myself and report your insubordination to Colonel Lindsey.”

“An’ I’m tellin’ you for the last time, you ain’t takin’ nobody!” He planted himself firmly between Captain Martin and the doorway.

Martin stepped up to face Jeb, and then made a motion as if he was preparing to walk around him. Jeb shifted his position to once again block his path, and as he did Captain Martin, moving with cat-like speed, thrust his hip into Jeb’s mid-section. He simultaneously grabbed Jeb’s collar and deftly tossed the stunned man into the dirt behind him.

“Take your men and return to Fort Wool. I will deal with you further there,” Captain Martin said.

Jeb jumped to his feet and shot a humiliated glance at his two men. “You’ll pay for that!” he said.

“Do not make matters any worse for yourself. You already have a charge of insubordination to answer for,” said Martin. He turned his back and walked toward the farmhouse door.

Adam wasn’t about to be left standing alone with Jeb and his crew. As he followed the captain to the door, Jeb suddenly shoved past him, charging toward Captain Martin wielding a massive hunting knife.

“Captain, look out!” Adam yelled.

Captain Martin turned and drew his field officer’s sword in a single, swift motion. Charging at full speed, Jeb drove the sword blade through his own body, unable to stop until he reached the eagle-pommel hilt. He stood impaled on the sword, still holding the hunting knife above his head, staring incomprehensibly at his intended victim. His mouth moved wordlessly as the gravity of what had just happened to him slowly dawned. The sword had entered his chest beneath the breastbone and exited his back, inflicting extensive damage along the way, not the least of which was severing his aorta. Blood from the high-pressure artery flooded his chest cavity, squeezing the pericardium so tightly his heart had no room to beat. Death was nearly instantaneous. Jeb’s body dropped to the ground, sliding off Martin’s sword as it did.

“Adam,” said Captain Martin, wiping the blood from his sword and replacing it in its scabbard, “please see if you can find Mrs. Deerinwater.”

Adam, shocked by the violence he had just witnessed, gawked at the dead man lying at his feet. Recovering his wits, he tore his eyes away from Jeb’s body, nodded to Martin, and entered the house.

“Now,” Martin said to the two other men, “you two will immediately report to Fort Wool. Any objections?”

“No, sir!” they replied. They ran for their horses, mounted them and rode off without another word.

Inside the house, Adam entered the bedroom and discovered Rebecca. She had pulled herself up far enough to get the rope around her neck, but was alive.

“My god!” he cried. He quickly took a blanket and covered her, wincing when he saw the bruises from the blows she had endured.

“Adam?” She looked at him, not sure if he was really there or a hallucination. “Is it you? Where are those men?” she asked in a quavering voice.

Adam heard the rasping sounds of her breathing, her neck constricted by the rope. “Yes, it’s me. It’s okay now. They won’t be back to hurt you,” he said. Gently lifting her head and taking the rope from around her neck, he began untying her. The left side of her face was already turning purple from the punch that had knocked her unconscious. She had been forced to fervently defend herself against impossible odds—because he had left her—choosing not to face those same odds. He choked back the overwhelming feelings of anger and guilt, and forced himself to focus on her immediate needs. He would deal with his conscience later.

“How badly are you hurt?”

“I do not know. My hip hurts a lot,” she said, indicating her left side. “It feels like something is broken inside. Where is Jimmy? Is he safe? Can you take me to him?”

“Yes, of course. You’ll be with him soon. He is at the fort. He is still shaken up, but mostly with worry about you. Do you think you will be able to ride?” If she had a broken hip or pelvis riding might be impossible.