Mercy

by Richard Turner

"Are you sure?" asked Alexander Maclean, barely keeping his volcanic temper in check. He stood just under six feet tall and had a thick black beard. Like all of his men, he wore a mix of threadbare Confederate Army attire and dirty civilian clothes.

  "Of course I'm sure," replied William Clarke. "I got eyes in my head. John and Samuel's horses were brought into town by them two Yankees earlier in the day."

  "And?"

  "And what?"

  Maclean ran a hand through his long, greasy black hair before grabbing ahold of Clarke's jacket collar and pulling him toward him. "Did you find out what happened to 'em?"

  "No. Owens' deputy told me they only found their horses."

  Maclean let go of Clarke and pushed him back. "If them Yankees got a hold of their horses that can only mean John and Samuel are dead."

  "I told you not to trust that Negro-loving sheriff," said Moses, spinning around on his heels. "Didn't I? He's become a Judas. He told them Yankees where our boys were hiding and they killed 'em."

  "Be quiet!" yelled Maclean.

  "I know I'm right."

  Maclean snapped. He lashed out and struck Moses across the face, sending him tumbling to the ground. "God damn it, Moses, I told you to shut yer mouth."

  Moses' eyes filled with tears. He brought a hand to his face before scurrying off behind a rundown wooden building to cry.

  "He might be right," said Clarke. "John and Samuel weren't as experienced as some of the other boys. But they never would have allowed themselves to be snuck up on. Owens had to have warned them Yankees."

  Maclean kicked a rock at his feet, sending it flying off into the brush. "Why would Tom turn against his own? I know we don't see things the same way anymore, but to tell them Yankees where to find John and Samuel is like taking a knife and stabbing it in my back."

  "I never really trusted Owens. He may have been a good soldier during the war, but he turned down your offer to join us and took a job in town instead. I tell you he's gone soft."

  Maclean spat on the ground. "Maybe."

  "Alex, what are we going to tell the others when they get back later today? They're bound to have heard the news."

  "That's easy. I'll tell them it's time we hung those two Yankees from a tree on the outskirts of town for all to see."

  Clarke grinned. "I like the sound of that."

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