Mercy

by Richard Turner

With sore and aching muscles, the men rowed the canoes across the black water of the lake. No one voiced it but they all were growing tired and in need of a short rest. Not a one of them had slept in days.

  "Captain, over there," said Hawkins, pointing with his paddle at a dry patch of land.

  Cooper waved back and steered his canoe toward the shoreline. He and Joe jumped from their boat at the same time. In seconds, their boat was high and dry on the shore. While Joe helped Rose lift the pastor from the bottom of their canoe, Cooper turned to pull Hawkins' craft up onto the beach.

  "You and Francis can take first watch while we give Mrs. Melancon a chance to see to her husband," said Cooper to Hawkins.

  "Captain, do you have any bullets left in your pistol?" asked Hawkins. "Mine's empty."

  Cooper handed over his weapon. "I've got three rounds left. After that, I guess we're out of bullets."

  "We'd best make them count, then."

  "Let's hope we won't have to use them." Cooper left his friend and walked over to Rose, who was trying her best in the dark to see how badly hurt her husband was.

  "What's the word?" he asked her.

  "I think he'll live, but I'd like to cauterize the wound so he doesn't lose any more blood."

  "Is there any other way to staunch his bleeding?"

  "Sure, but he may die before we get him to a doctor. He's my husband and I don't want to lose him. Cauterizing is the best way to keep him from dying."

  Cooper looked over at Joe. "Make a small fire in a hollow in the ground and keep it hidden as best you can."

  "Yes, sir," Joe replied. Right away, the young man started to gather up kindling and twigs for the fire.

  "Thank you," said Rose, her voice cracked with emotion.

  "As soon as you've sealed his wound, douse the fire and get the pastor ready to leave. I want to get as far away as possible from those animals before the sun comes up."

  At the water's edge, Hawkins sat on a log and stared out into the night. Cooper took a seat beside him. "Where's Francis?"

  "I got him hiding in the bushes behind us in case someone tries to sneak around and attack us from the woods. What's going on with the pastor, Captain?"

  "Mrs. Melancon is going to cauterize his wound before he bleeds to death," explained Cooper.

  "Even if she does, we both know there's no guarantee his wound won't get infected. We both know that our regiment lost more men to disease than reb bullets during the war."

  "Aye, you're right, but I'd rather give him a fighting chance than none at all. After everything we've been through it's the right thing to do."

  Out on the lake, moving silently across the water were several darkened shapes. As the clouds parted, the silvery light of the moon shone down briefly on three canoes packed with men and dogs.

  "There it is again," whispered the Bearded Man over his shoulder.

  For a brief second, a light flickered in the woods. Taylor smiled. The Yankees had been careless and lit a fire. He had them.

  Behind him one of his dogs whined. Taylor reached back and ran a hand over the animal's muzzled snout. "Easy does it, boy. We'll soon be ashore and you can fill yer empty belly with whatever you can catch."

  The dog seemed to understand what it was told and sat back on its hind legs with its nose in the air, smelling the breeze coming from the shore.

  Taylor placed his hand on the cold metal of his pistol and clenched it tight. His head still hurt as if there was a swarm of bees flying inside his skull stinging him every time he moved his head. He was looking forward to personally killing Cooper and eating his liver raw.

  "I've heated up Sergeant Hawkins' knife," announced Rose, "but I'm going to need both of you to hold him still while I cauterize his wound."

  Cooper and Hawkins nodded and walked over beside Pastor Melancon.

  "You hold his shoulders," said Rose to Cooper. "And you his arms," she told Hawkins.

  The pastor lay on his side with his blood-soaked shirt ripped open so Rose could close the hole under his armpit with the white-hot knife. She picked up a stick and placed it between her husband's teeth. With her hand, she delicately ran her fingers through his greasy hair. "This is going to hurt, my love, bite down and it'll all be over soon."

  Rose reached behind her and pulled the knife from the fire. She looked at the men helping her and said, "Now!"

  Cooper and Hawkins grabbed hold of the pastor and held him tight. A second later, Rose placed the blade on the wound. The sound of sizzling flesh was drowned out by Melancon's muffled cry.

  "It's done. You can let him go," said Rose as she jammed the knife into the ground to cool the steel.

  Cooper and Hawkins released the pastor while Rose bent down and gently removed the stick from her husband's mouth.

  "How long before he can be moved?" Cooper asked.

  "Can we please give him a couple of minutes to gain some strength before we move him?" replied Rose.

  "Okay, five minutes and then we're back in the canoes."

  "Thank you," said Rose as she bent down and kissed Melancon on his sweat-covered forehead.

  Francis sat on the ground, resting his back against the bark of a tall tree. He had sharpened a stick and held it in his hand under his chin to stop himself from falling asleep. Francis had never been so tired in his life. Not even before the abolition of slavery had he felt as if he were going to nod off at any second. He shook his head and took a deep breath to clear his cloudy mind. The sound of a twig snapping behind him made him forget his fatigue. He looked over his shoulder and peered into the dark. Francis couldn't see a thing. His heart began to race. He stood up and held his sharpened stick in his hand, ready to strike should anyone suddenly appear.

  "God damn it, Francis, where you be hiding?" said a voice.

  "Lower your voice, Joe, do want them cannibals to know where we are?" replied Francis in a hushed tone.

  The bushes parted. Joe, lost in the dark, almost walked into his friend. "Sorry about all the noise. I just wanted to let you know the captain said we be leaving in a few minutes."

  "That's fine with me. I can't wait to get back home. We done lost far too many good friends out here in this cursed swamp."

  "Come on, let's join the others."

  Francis opened his mouth to say something when he heard the sound of something in the woods moving closer. His stomach knotted when he heard an animal growl. He knew they were in trouble. Francis pushed Joe away. "Run back to the captain and tell him to leave now."

  "Why?"

  A split second later the underbrush opened and two huge dogs charged out straight at Francis. He brought his hand up to slash at them with his stick. It was a futile move. The dogs, trained to hunt, leaped into the air and clamped their jaws on his arms, pulling him down with them. The coup de grace came from a third animal which burst from the woods, sank its teeth into Cole's throat and thrashed its head back and forth. Mercifully, the young man passed out and died within seconds.

  Joe saw there was nothing he could do to help his friend. He turned and fled.

  "What was that?" Rose asked as she kicked dirt on the fire to put it out.

  Hawkins didn't have to be told. "Dogs! Damn it, they've found us."

  Cooper hurried to push their canoe back out onto the lake.

  "Follow me," said Hawkins to Rose as he scooped up the pastor in his arms and ran for the boats.

  Cooper waved at Rose to get her attention. "Get in," he said.

  Hawkins laid the pastor on the bottom of the canoe, drew his pistol and turned to face the thicket.

  "God save us all," yelled Joe as he ran out of the woods. The terrified young man tripped over his own feet and landed facedown on the ground at Hawkins' feet.

  Hawkins hauled the youth to his feet. "Where's Francis?"

  "Dogs as big as bears done attacked us. They got Francis," stammered Joe.

  Hawkins pushed Joe toward the lake. "Get in our canoe." He pulled back on the hammer of his pistol. "Sir, you and Mrs. Mel
ancon had best leave right away. Joe and I will be along shortly."

  Cooper placed his paddle in the water and pulled back. Their boat began to move away from shore.

  With his back to the lake, Hawkins walked backward. His eyes were fixed on the darkened woods.

  "Sergeant, I'm ready," said Joe, sitting in the front of the canoe. His voice betrayed his fear.

  A deep growl from the underbrush heralded the next attack. A dog charged out of the dark and ran straight at Hawkins. He calmly brought up his pistol and fired into the animal's head, killing it. Less than a second later, another dog charged the sergeant only to receive a bullet in its ribcage. With a loud yelp, the animal fell to the ground and writhed in pain. The last dog to attack came at Hawkins from his right side. It leaped up into the air with its wet blood-covered mouth wide open. Hawkins pivoted on his heel and fired his pistol at point-blank range into the beast's mouth, blasting the top of its skull off. The animal fell into the water at the sergeant's feet. With his bullets gone, Hawkins rushed to get into his canoe. He picked up his paddle and together with Joe, he rowed as if the devil himself were right behind them.

  Taylor stood on the edge of the lake and stared into the blackness. His right eye twitched as he ground his teeth in anger.

  "It looks like they got all three dogs," reported Red, holding a torch in his hands. The light lit up the ground where the dogs lay.

  "Yeah, but at least they got one of the darkies before they were killed," said Blondie.

  "That means there's still five of 'em on their feet," said the Fat Man.

  The Bearded Man walked out of the brush and joined his comrades. "They had a fire going back in the woods. There's a lot of blood on the ground. Looks like we hit one of them back at the camp."

  "Praise the Lord," said Moses, patting his stolen Bible in his hands. "God must have directed your bullets to smite the wicked. We can only hope it was that evil Yankee officer who was hit."

  Red shook his head. "Doesn't look that way." An accomplished tracker, he pointed at the four different sets of footprints in the mud. "Looks like the two Yankee soldiers are still on their feet as is the woman and one of the coloreds."

  "That would mean we hit the pastor," said Blondie.

  "A sinner is a sinner," said Moses.

  "If he's hurt bad, it'll slow them down," mused Red.

  "Enough talking," said Taylor, bringing up a hand to silence his colleagues. "Get the canoes and bring them here right away. I want to get after those Yankee bastards before they get too far away."

  Blondie, Red, and the Bearded man left to fetch the boats.

  Taylor looked over his shoulder at Tiny. "Did you remember to bring your meat cleaver with you?"

  The man smiled and pulled a blade covered in dried blood from his belt. "I surely did, Colonel. That Yankee officer is going to be cut into dozens of little pieces before he dies."

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