by D B Bray
Rufus walked over to Jack and helped him up. Without another word to the Blue Boys, they walked the mile back to the Montpelier house.
As they walked along the forest path, Rufus nudged Jack and nodded toward the movement in the bushes. Jack saw the Blue Faces keeping pace with them. As they cleared the forest and walked into the glade, they disappeared.
Rufus touched Jack’s shoulder. “Thank you for freeing us. I know that rifle meant a lot to you, and we will get it back in the near future. We know where they’re hiding now,” he said, not really believing what he said.
The rifle was gone, and with it, Jack’s last memory of his father. Ironically, the weapon that had taken him so far gave him the freedom to complete his mission.
Jack could only nod at Rufus’ statement, trying to hold his emotions in check. Jack moved around the glade. All the trees appeared to be the exact same. He rubbed his temples with a sigh.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find it, and after we do, we’ll get back to Fort Camden. Let’s split up and find this thing,” Rufus said.
They split up, Rufus taking the left side, Jack the right. Jack searched until he heard Rufus cry out in surprise. Jack hobbled back to where Rufus was searching. He watched him swinging from a tree branch by his ankle ten feet in the air. Jack burst out laughing as he watched him gliding back and forth, cursing loudly.
“Get me down,” he shouted.
Jack limped over to the tree and took out his knife. He glanced up at Rufus and said, “Swing towards me, and I’ll cut the rope.”
Rufus pulled himself up by his feet and swung toward Jack. Jack measured the number of steps to Rufus and calculated the distance. Rufus’ rifle lay on the ground, and Jack went over to pick it up.
“I’m going to rig something up. Keep holding your feet,” Jack said.
Jack tied a rope to the trigger of the rifle and then wrapped the rest of it around the tree. He ran the excess line underneath Rufus and tied the end around his own wrist.
“I’ll catch you when you fall. I’m going to pull the rope and have the bullet cut it,” he said.
“Whatever you’re planning, hurry up. The blood is rushing to my head,” Rufus shouted.
Jack yanked the rope, and the trigger clicked. The bullet slashed through the rope, and a moment later, Rufus plummeted to the ground. Jack held his hands up as his body hurtled toward him. And at the last moment, prior to impact, Jack knew he miscalculated. Rufus’ weight crashed onto him. It was too much for Jack’s arms to hold, and they tumbled out into the open grove, their arms and legs tangled. Their bodies came to rest, and Rufus groaned as he sat up. Jack lay there for a moment and winced. He picked up the rock he landed on and threw it away from them.
“At least your down,” Jack muttered.
Rufus nodded and groaned louder as he stood up, his knees and lower back popping. “Barely.”
“Let’s go back over to the side you were exploring and see if there is anything important over there,” Jack said.
They wandered back over to where Rufus had searched and entered the underbrush. All the trees still looked the same as they did in the grove.
“Where is it?” Jack asked, tension rising in his voice.
Rufus shrugged and then noticed a tree with a few branches dipping low, covered in ivy. He walked over and pulled the branches to the side and walked underneath. He waved Jack over and pointed at the tree. The tree had the initials P.J. carved in the center.
“That doesn’t look like it belongs,” Rufus said.
Jack rubbed his eyes, then his face. He walked over and stared at the initials. He pulled out the last note and skimmed it.
A great man, Paul Jennings, wrote a book.
Jack walked up to the tree and pushed on the thick trunk of the fifty-foot tree; it didn’t budge. He motioned for Rufus to try, and he failed to move it.
Edward used a similar tree. It has to be here.
He glanced along the branches, none out of the ordinary. He walked to each one and pulled on them.
Nothing, this sucks!
He stared up and saw a small branch sticking straight out of the trunk. “Rufus, lift me up,” he said, spitting into his palms and rubbing them together.
Jack stepped on Rufus’ interlocked palms and leaped for the closest branch. He heard it snap and then fell back to the ground. Rufus picked him up and brushed him off.
“Ready?”
Jack sighed and then stepped up again. He leaped for another branch, and this one held his weight. He pulled himself up and searched for a thick branch to step over to. He made his way through the branches, some falling down as soon as he touched them.
Finally, after climbing twenty feet, he made it to the area where the little branch was protruding. He pushed it, but nothing happened. Gathering his strength, he placed his hand over it and pulled. It broke free, his momentum almost sending him back to the ground with it.
He heard Rufus curse as the branch smacked him in the head. Inside the hole, he found a beehive full of activity. Once disturbed, they flew out of the hole and attacked. He swung at them as they stung him, his hand sliding down the branch he was holding. He screamed in agony as each sting felt like a knitting needle was being jabbed into his arms and face. He looked in the hole and gritted his teeth. He saw a wooden lever inside, and after closing his eyes, he shoved his fingers in and pushed it back. He felt the tree shake, and then the branch he was standing on broke.
Jack heard Rufus shout something as he fell five feet. He grasped another branch, his arm feeling like it snapped out of the socket. Stung, injured and desperate, he climbed down the last fifteen feet and jumped into Rufus’ waiting arms.
He hurt all over, the stings raising little red bumps on his skin. They had done a number on his finger as well, swelling to three times their average size. He screamed in pain; rolled around, his eyes feeling like sand was being rubbed in them. Gigantic spiders and other tiny creatures crawled around the entrance of the tree.
Rufus watched a black widow and a brown recluse scamper across the opening. Mumbling under his breath, he opened his pack and pulled out a small ball of musty twine. He lit it and then threw it into the hole. The ball smelled horrible, like raw sewage. Acrid smoke poured out of the breach, killing whatever lay inside. An enormous tan snake slithered out, its tail rattling as it passed by them. Jack gasped and rolled out of the way.
After all the critters scattered, Rufus knelt next to him and examined him. He opened a bottle of honey, swallowed a finger full, then applied the rest to his arms, face, and hands.
“Honey?” Jack asked.
Rufus smiled. “It’s a cure-all.”
The smoke cleared, and anything living was now dead. Rufus shoved his candle inside and saw a small, deteriorating wooden box. He pulled it out and put it near Jack’s feet.
“Get up, Jack. Fight the pain,” he said.
“I just want to go home!”
Jack lay on the ground, his arms, face, and other parts screaming at him to stop.
Rufus stared at him. “I said get up, boy.”
With a deep groan, Jack struggled to sit up. Rufus grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him the rest of the way, and then thrust the box into his hands.
“Open it.”
Jack shot him a dirty look and pulled the lid up. Inside, he found a folded yellowing parchment in plastic with yet another note. Jack exhaled, winced, and read it out loud:
This is the very last piece of the Constitution. It’s called the Bill of Rights, perhaps the most essential part with ten amendments. The amendment guarantees freedom of speech, press, religion, protests, and assembling. My favorite and why we hid the different pieces is the tenth amendment, which says the federal government only has the powers delegated in the Constitution, and if it isn’t listed, it belongs to the states or the people. The government tried to destroy those liberties, and then the people revolted. It started slow mind you, but after several years of anarchy, the government collapse
d. The slavers appeared practically overnight, and with no police or military, we turned on one another. Without this charter, a new government can never be reformed. We Saviors believed that no one should ever be enslaved like we watched our families, wives, husbands, and others reduced too. If you’re a true Savior, you finish what we started and banish the slavers. It will take work. Some will lose their lives; others still may quit the fight. Good luck with your journey.
Jack stood up and coughed. He packed his bag and looked at Rufus.
“Is that it?” Rufus asked.
“Yeah, and now I get to go home,” he said.
Rufus placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “What next, Jack?”
“I’m going back to Fort Camden, and then we’ll decide whether or not we need it,” Jack said.
Rufus bit his tongue and followed Jack to the front of the house. They found their horses still tethered to a broken railing. Jack breathed a sigh of relief as he mounted his horse. He put his ankles into its sides and rode off.
Here I come, Lucy.
Chapter 19
Lucy was the first to hear the melody carrying in the wind. It was soft at first, unfamiliar to her. Toby’s ears perked up, and he climbed out of his lumpy feather bed. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “What is that sound?”
“It sounds like singing,” she said.
They pulled their shoes on and ran out the door to the guard towers. As they reached them, several men pushed them out of the way as they made their way up.
They waited for the guards to climb and then scurried up after them. Toby was the last up and got knocked down by another guard as he hurried past. Lucy picked him up and walked over to the guard they knew.
“What do you see, Bushwick Bill?” Toby asked, peering over the wall.
Bill pointed at the top of the hill. At first, Toby couldn’t hear the words, but a few minutes later, he listened to the chorus of the song: Glory, Glory, Hallelujah.
Toby looked at Lucy and gripped her in a hug. “It’s Quill!”
Lucy pulled her rifle to her shoulder and scanned the troops. Young people marched behind Quill, Adam, and Charlie. Billy climbed up the ladder and stood next to Lucy. He saw Adam and raised his fist in the air with a triumphant shout. The three of them slid down the ladder, more than climbed down.
Toby looked up at Bushwick and yelled, “Open the gates.”
Bushwick waved to the guard below him, and the gates opened. A few minutes later, the Statue’s and the Blades marched through two abreast. The people of Fort Camden had never seen an organized army before. They peered out of their windows partly in fear, slightly in awe.
Jasmine descended the steps of the church and walked out into the courtyard, her guards resting their hands on their guns.
“Company halt!” Quill yelled.
The company snapped to attention as Quill and Adam broke ranks. Billy sprinted over to them and embraced Adam. He waved to Charlie eagerly.
“Where... where’s Fred?” he asked, looking for his best friend.
Adam lowered his head and didn’t say anything. Billy rubbed his hand over his mouth with a sigh.
“He’s dead?” Billy asked.
“He died free,” Adam said.
Quill yelled over his shoulder, “At ease.”
The company relaxed as Quill walked over to Jasmine, who eyed him warily. The two locked eyes for the briefest of moments.
Jasmine was striking. Her strawberry blonde hair tied in pigtails, a spiked hammer hanging from her hip. Quill snapped to attention.
“The Statues and the Blades are here,” he said.
“Yes, I see. Lucy said you would be coming. How many are you?” she asked.
“We total one hundred and fifty with the freed slaves from Battery Park,” Quill said.
The slaves walked in one and two at a time behind Quill’s army until every man, woman, and child were safe. People who only days before were being readied for a lifetime of servitude, now stood behind a wall away from the everyday dangers of a Scavenger existence.
The freed slaves fell out in the courtyard. Some so weak, they passed out. Jasmine sent her men to fetch food, water, and blankets.
“Come with me, Quill, we have work to do,” she said, walking back up the steps.
Lucy, Toby, and Adam walked in behind them. Adam stared at the ceiling in wonderment. The painting always stopped people as they walked through the church. Toby pulled him along to keep up with the others.
“I’ll explain later,” he said.
Quill sat beside Jasmine at the table in front of them. She passed him a basket of steaming hot bread. The tips of Quill’s finger burned as he picked it up. He shoved it in his mouth and grinned as he chewed. Toby giggled as he watched him savor the burn.
Speaking with his mouth full, Quill said, “Haven’t tasted warm bread since I was a child.”
Jasmine laughed. “Where did you grow up?”
“Slaver community called Battery Park and then Liberty Island.”
“I don’t know where that is.” She took a bite of an apple. “Any other news?”
Quill sighed. “I’ve gotten word that The Takers are headed this way, ” he said.
“They’re coming to Fort Camden?” she asked, motioning one of her men over.
She whispered in the man’s ear and turned back to talk to Quill.
“So tell me who they are and what do they want?”
“The Takers are a loosely knit tribe of slavers who take any and all prisoners, then sell them to the tribes in the North. Battery Park was one of their many quick stops to rest, trade for weapons and food. They want to retake the slaves we freed because they were being sold on the auction block for them,” Quill said.
“How would they know you’ve come here?” she asked.
“People talk,” he said.
“They do, but how do they know?” Jasmine pressed.
“A man named Red overheard us talking about coming here, and then he escaped,” he said.
Lucy’s ears perked up, and the color drained from her face. “He was captured?”
“Yes, but as we readied to pull out of camp, he killed his guard and fled into the night. I sent someone after him, but he’s a crafty fox,” Quill said.
Lucy buried her face in her hands and cried. She knew what he would do and that he would search until the end of time to recapture her. And now she felt worse knowing she put all of the people, especially Toby, in danger.
Toby felt her tense up and whispered, “Don’t worry Lucy, I’ll protect you,” he said.
She turned her head and smiled.
Jasmine stood up. “We didn’t want this fight, but if they’re coming, we will prepare the fort. Can the slaves you brought with you fight?” she asked.
“Mostly the women can. The men do the cooking in their tribes,” Adam said.
Jasmine raised an eyebrow. “Women fighters?”
“Some of the tribes in the far north only have their women fight, the men too, but the women get better weapons,” Adam said.
“Interesting.” She turned to Quill. “Can you help train my men for the battle?” she asked.
“We only have about a week,” he said.
“I understand that, but can it be done?” she asked.
“I think we can, no promises though,” Quill said.
Adam stood up and faced Jasmine. “The Blades can help Quill.”
She turned back to the others. “Have the commanders meet in the church later this evening, and we can devise a plan. Quill, walk with me and explain what we need to do,” she said, walking over to him.
As Quill accompanied Jasmine around the fort, he saw the squalor they lived in. Sewage lined the streets, mixed in with everyday trash. A woman threw a pail of sewage out of a second-story window. Quill watched it hit his shoes with a splash. Jasmine burst out laughing as Quill cursed and shook his fist at the woman above who waved at him and walked off the balcony. He kicked the sewage off his shoes and surveyed
the fort.
What appeared to be impregnable, was actually a facade. The wood on the sides and at the back of the fort was rotten. Many places had no wall to speak of at all. Any and all spare wood the tribe had was piled high or roughly nailed down. The barbed wire ran along the front wall, but not on any of the others. The roofs on most of the houses had fallen into such a state of disrepair that the inhabitants now used a mixture of dry leaves, tree branches and grass tied together as cover.
The alley’s between homes were piled high with trash, making it perfect for a fire should one torch get thrown over the front wall. Quill shook his head in disbelief. This was no fort; it was one considerable fire hazard waiting to light up the sky. He cleared his throat and licked his lips.
“Jasmine, this is a very dangerous fort to defend.” He pointed as he spoke. “You have trash and sewage everywhere. The alleys are a fire hazard waiting to happen. The walls of the fort are falling down, and you only have enough barbed wire for one wall. This is not defensible. It’s a death trap. We would be better off in the woods among the trees and natural caves,” he said.
Jasmine folded her arms across her chest. She followed his hand as he pointed everything out. After he finished, she waved her last guard over. “I’ll leave you with Quill. Give him everything he needs. If we have the materials and labor, they are at his disposal,” she said.
Quill shook his head and sighed. “And where are you going?” he asked as she walked away.
“This is my place. You do what you do, and I’ll do what I do,” she said.
Jasmine left them to plan the defenses and headed back to the church. She saw Lucy and Toby sitting on the bottom step. Toby was twiddling his thumbs as Lucy stared off into the distance.
“Lucy, come with me,” she said, waking her from whatever dream she was in.
“What about me?” Toby asked.
“I need you to watch for any of the attackers. Go find Bushwick in the guard tower and help him with whatever he needs,” she said.
Toby saluted and ran off.