After and Again

by McLellan, Michael

  What happened next happened very quickly. The giant man who had unlocked the cage reached inside and pulled out a woman as if she were a bag of feathers, and let her drop to the ground behind the wagon. The woman who had begged for help was now in hysterics. The four men stood over the woman on the ground, it looked to Zack like she was not moving. The giant then reached under the serape that he was wearing and produced a pistol, aimed it at the prone woman and shot her. Making the pistol disappear back under his serape, he walked back to his place by the other wagon. The hysterical woman was no longer screaming but Zack could hear sobbing from the cage, the animated conversation and bustling of the campsite temporarily silenced by the pistol shot. One of the remaining men took the woman’s arms, the other two her legs, and they carried her to the cliff edge and unceremoniously tossed her over.

  Zack was aghast and seething with hate. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to walk down to the camp and put a bullet in the giant man’s giant skull. He wanted to kill every single one of those men, he wanted to tie them up and burn them alive like they burned up the people at Payne’s Station.

  After awhile he cooled down some and focused on the puzzle of the lock. How was he going to get the key from the place where it was hung from the rusty wagon. That is if the murdering giant put the key back he thought to himself. He wished that he would have paid attention to that detail after the man shot the sick woman.

  Zack let another hour pass and the camp was like a drunken harvest party. He had gone back and forth between waiting until everyone was asleep and making his move while the gang was eating and drinking; which would provide cover for any noise that he might make freeing the women. His plan hinged on whether or not the giant man hung the key back on the rusty supply wagon. If he didn’t then Zack was in serious trouble. He just had to hope for the best. The plan was simple and the way that things were lit down there gave Zack a good deal of hope. While most of the camp was well lit with lanterns and campfires, the tethered horses and the cage-wagon were in shadow. There were also no lanterns or campfires on the cliff side of the rusty wagon, which Zack now thought of as the key- wagon. The main part of the camp was all set up on the road side of the key wagon. The problem, provided that the keys were even there at all was that they would be hanging from the road side, and not the cliff side of the wagon. There was a campfire set up about ten feet from where the key should be hanging. Zack would have to try to climb into the wagon on the cliff side and worm his way to the other side and reach over for the keys without being seen. If he was spotted then he would pull out the pistol and start shooting.

  He climbed out of the tree, backtracked up the mountain about two hundred yards and then turned right and started down. It took less than an hour to circle around to the bottom side of the shelf where he now crouched behind the group of tethered horses on the cliff side of the camp. He moved before he could lose his nerve and ran, keeping low, to the key-wagon. The wagon was only a head shorter than Zack who peered over the top before pulling himself up and into the wagon as quietly as he could. He lay there quietly for a moment catching pieces of the conversation at the nearest campfire.

  “…. Ya cain’t read anyway, Charlie, ya might as well use it for fire starter or ass-wipe.”

  “You can’t read neither, side’s, betcha one of them whores over there could read it.”

  “Or one of them new fellas,” another voice spoke up, “that we picked up in that last town, the youngins.” Zack thought of Santiago and Michael but knew that there was nothing that he could do for them at the moment. Keeping flat and picking his way over the jumble of rick rack in the wagon he reached the other side at roughly the place where he had watched the man take the keys from. He lifted his head slightly to look over the side of the wagon and could see the group of men that he’d heard talking sitting around a fire. They seemed intent on their conversation and were passing a bottle that Zack recognized as Brodie Hodgkins sour mash whiskey. Mr. Hodgkins kept a small still behind the trade and people came all the way from Auburn to get it. Seeing the bottle only re-kindled Zacks anger and he wondered how much of what he had just crawled over in the wagon came from Payne’s Station. Zack reached his hand over the wagon’s edge and felt along for the keys. He started to panic when he felt an empty hook on the other side but kept moving along anyway. When he was almost at the full length of his reach he felt it; a small key on a short tether. He lifted the key off of the hook and inched his way back to the other side of the wagon. Throwing one leg over, then the other, he plopped down on the ground, the wagon giving an audible creak at the loss of his weight. He hunkered down pulling the pistol from his waistband and waited for the shouts and the sound of footsteps. When he was confident that the sound had gone unnoticed he ran back the way he had come and once again crouched behind the horses.

  Sidestepping while keeping an eye on the camp through the horses, Zack reached the rear of the cage-wagon, there was enough light from the camp that he could see a little. He looked inside.

  “Oh my god Z—,” Emily Hodgkins began, from just inside the cage door before stifling herself with her hand.

  “Shhhh Emily, Jeezus. Everybody be quiet, I am going to get you out of here,” Zack said, scanning the dim wagon for his mother. Emily was fervently nodding her head still holding her hand over her mouth. Zack began to work on the rusty padlock while whispering “Can everyone walk? Mom, are you in there?”

  “Your moms here Zack,” Emily said, choking back sobs, “But she’s not right.”

  “What do you mean not right?” Zack hissed.

  “I will explain, Zack, please, just get us out,” she answered. Zack removed the lock and set it on the ground.

  “Now listen,” he whispered, “I’m going to open this up and you’re going to climb out one at a time and hold each others hands, then I’m going to lead you up onto the mountain. You have to be quiet! Lets go.”

  He opened the gate and Emily Hodgkins climbed out and put her hand up for the next woman. “Wait,” she said quietly, bring Liz up first.”

  A moment later his mother was at the opening; Zack came forward and he and Emily helped her out of the wagon. “Mom?” Zack said, beginning to cry. Liz McQueen just stood there as if staring at something over Zack’s shoulder. “Mama what—”

  “Zack, we have to go, they’ll be coming soon!” Emily said, pushing him gently away and taking his mothers hand. The rest of the women were trundling out of the wagon joining hands. Emily took Zack’s and said “Get us out of here, Zack.”

  He led the chain of women (and girls he noticed) back down the line of tethered horses and dropped down the short embankment just before he reached the last horse. It was dark and impossible for the escapees to see where they were putting their feet, and though the women were trying to be quiet the sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves would have given them away had the camp not been so loud.

  Zack circled back and headed up the mountain in the direction that he had left Grace. He was a little unsure of himself in the darkness and hoped that he would find her without fumbling around too much. He didn’t want to, but was prepared to leave the mare if necessary.

  There were a million questions that he wanted to ask; he wanted to hug his mom and find out what was wrong with her, he wanted to find out if Santiago and Michael were at the camp. He held his tongue, and to the women’s credit they kept silent as well, and outside of the occasional stumble that abruptly yanked everyone else to a halt, they were moving along fairly smoothly. Zack was a bit surprised at how easy it had been to free the women, but in retrospect he realized that the gang only had them locked up so that they couldn’t escape. Rescue had probably never entered the murderer’s minds.

  Grace whinnied and Zack followed the sound taking silent pride in the fact that he navigated the woods in the dark and came out almost spot on. There was a small clearing where the mare was tied and Zack told the women to rest a moment. “Oh, Zack!” Emily said, dropping his mother’s
hand and hugging him fiercely. “We thought we’d never see anyone again. Who else is with you?”

  “There is no one else,” Zack said, gently breaking the embrace and turning to his mother. The rest of the women had sat down and Liz McQueen just stood there, it was too dark to make out her features clearly. “Mom what’s wrong?” he asked putting his hand on her cheek.

  “Zack, they did stuff to her,” Emily said from behind him. “To all of them, except me, Lacy, and Eileen, we were for….later.”

  “What stuff?” he asked, through clenched teeth, knowing the answer already. Just then a scream came through the forest; “YOU WHORES! GET YOUR ASSES BACK HERE NOW!”

  Some of the women started crying, and they all stood up ready to run. Zack turned to Emily, “Take my mom and get everyone to join hands again. We’re an hour ahead, it’s dark and they’re drunk. The top of the mountain can’t be more than a half-hour away and then we’ll be going downhill and they will still be going uphill. I don’t think they’re going to chase us that far tonight though, they’ll wait until morning and come after us on horseback. C’mon, get them going, I have to grab Grace.”

  Zack untied Grace and patted her neck. The mare nuzzled him with her head obviously glad to see him. He lifted his pack off of the saddle horn and quickly opened it and pulled out the tube-light. After shouldering his pack he cranked the handle on the back of the light illuminating the clearing. There were a couple of “OH’s” from the women, fascinated despite their fear. Zack told Emily to take the mare’s tail and he started walking the horse and its chain of women up the mountain.

  A short time later the shouted curses from their pursuers subsided, then stopped completely. Zack, who had been stealing glances down the mountain never even saw light from a lantern. He knew however that their head start was only going to be a few hours; six or seven at best, and the gang would begin the pursuit in earnest. How far and how much time they were willing to use to recapture the women was the question. He looked back at his mother, trailing along placidly behind Emily and pushed down his anger. He continued leading the mare up the mountain.

  The trees began thinning and Zack could see stars in front of him as well as above and knew they were nearly at the peak. The summit was bare rock, windy and cold; Zack had planned to let everyone rest while he asked some questions so that he could gauge how much pursuit to expect. Instead he decided to push on down the other side at least far enough to get out of the wind. He guessed that it was around one a.m. but admitted to himself that it could be as late as two.

  Another thirty minutes and they came to a small clearing where the terrain wasn’t too steep. The going downhill was damp and slippery with fallen leaves. Zack was constantly scanning the ground for a deer trail that they could use to make better time but had so far come up empty. They halted at the clearing and Zack had Emily passed around the canteen telling her to only allow a swallow each. He didn’t know how long it would be before they found more water and thought to conserve what little there was. Sitting on the damp ground and putting his arm around his mother he shined the tube-light on the group of women to see who was there.

  In addition to his mother, Emily, Lacy Sturgess and Loren Sturgess, there was Holly Sanderson, who was Jenny’s mom, Sandra Whitehall, who was in nearly the same state as Zack’s mother, Rebecca Mccarron and Eileen Deveroux who were both only eight or nine if his memory served him, and two women; one older and one younger that were not from Payne’s Station.

  “They killed my mother,” Sandra Whitehall said, looking at Zack with disbelief. “She was sick, and they murdered her,” she began crying again, softly; it was the loneliest sound that Zack had ever heard.

  “Oh honey,” Loren Sturgess said, putting her arm around the younger woman, “your ma is well out of it now.”

  “Who are you?” Zack asked looking at the two unfamiliar women.

  “I’m Kendra Goodman and this is my daughter Cassie, we’re from Huntsville, both of our husbands were taken, probably killed, and the town was burned just like yours,” the woman said, matter-of-factly.

  “I am sorry ma’am.” Zack said, wishing he had more. He knew of Huntsville although he had never been there. It was even smaller than Payne’s Station, and maybe a hundred miles south.

  The group all started asking Zack at once about their families. He really wanted to get some information about the gang and get moving, but he thought that they had a right to know what he knew so he answered them in turn. “Emily, I haven’t seen either one of your folks, or yours, Eileen. Mrs. Sanderson I’m really sorry but Jenny is dead. She was alive when I found her, but had been trapped in the basement of the trade when the fire was set.” Holly Sanderson and Emily Hodgkins both burst into tears.

  “My Jenny,” Mrs Sanderson said, sobbing, “And Burt?” she asked hopefully.

  “I didn’t see Mr. Sanderson, ma’am,” he answered. “I did see your mom and brothers Rebecca, they’re okay but I don’t know about your dad.” I haven’t seen your dad either, Sandra, I’m sorry.”

  “What about my dad?” Lacy Sturgess asked, holding hands with her mother. She was Emily’s age and hung around with her and Jenny Sanderson sometimes.

  “I haven’t seen him either, but I left the very next day,” he said, addressing the whole group now, “Tal Miller, Rebecca’s mom and brothers, Jonus, Mrs. Lanhope and Miz. Renfew were all hiding in the hills. Maybe others were too, I just don’t know.”

  “Now I really need to ask some questions,” Zack said, hunkering down in front of the group. “Were they trying to take you somewhere or were they just keeping you for… slaves or something?” he finished lamely.

  Emily said, “they were taking us to someplace called The Crack, where their leader is. Someone had said that it was two hundred miles. I think it’s a cave or something.

  “Why were they taking you there?” he asked.

  “I don’t know Zack, I just know that Trask, the big man wouldn’t let anyone put their hands on me, Lacy, Eileen or Rebecca. He said that we were for The Man in Charge, that is how they all referred to whoever is their boss or their leader at that Crack place,” Emily answered.

  “Is that why my mom is the way she is?” he asked looking at his catatonic mother. “Because they put their hands on her?” Emily just nodded, not meeting Zack’s eyes.

  “Do they all have guns? Or does just the giant have one?”

  Emily answered, “Just the big man… the giant, as far as I know. The rest carry bows, and machetes and clubs.” Zack nodded, encouraged.

  “Have you seen Santiago or Michael?” he asked. At that Sandra Whitehall started with a fresh round of sobs; Emily Hodgkins was silent and would not meet Zack’s gaze.

  “Emily?” he said, looking pointedly at the girl. Loren Sturgess spoke up, “Michaels dead, Zack, those men took Sandra here and told the three boys to have at her. Well that skunk Frank Olsen went to do it with no hesitation, so Michael grabbed him by the arm and tried to stop him, that’s when that Trask put his damn pistol right up to Michael’s head and shot him without a single word. Then he turned the pistol on Santiago, and Santiago.… he….did it, then that mangy little rodent Olsen did it and I saw him smiling.. I wouldn’t think too much about those two Zack. Michael went to his death a man and a hero the way I see it, the other two are right where they belong, with their own kind.”

  Zack thought about Frank Olsen; he was the blacksmith’s son and not very well liked by the other boys his age. There was always something….strange about him, he was always sorta smirking like there was a running joke that only he was privy to. As far as Michael and Santiago went he was not surprised at all that Michael went to his death trying to save someone else. He was however, appalled that Santiago would do what he did, no matter how afraid he was for his own life. He glanced over at Sandra Whitehall; she was older than him by a couple of years and he didn’t know her very well, but he felt the deepest pity for her at that moment.

  Zack surveyed the group in the
shadows of the small clearing. He was hoping to get a sense of how much of a chase they should expect. He decided to assume the worst. “Listen everybody,” he said, “We need to get moving again and we’re going to have to stick to the mountains and hope that they will lose the taste for chasing us. I am going to take us on the roughest route possible as soon as the sun comes up. Until then, hopefully we can find a deer trail that we can use to get down this mountain faster and put more distance between them and us before dawn.”

  “I’m proud of you, Zack McQueen,” Holly Sanderson said, and I am sure your mom will be too as soon as we get her someplace safe and she can heal up. “However this turns out, thank you from the bottom of my heart.” There was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the group and Eileen Deveroux jumped up and gave Zack a hug. He held the younger girl tightly for a moment and then released her, smiling, feeling a sense of pride through the fear, the fatigue, and the worry over his mother. Zack was going to save this girl.

  “Let’s go,” he said, standing and gently taking his mother’s hand and pulling her up. Emily stood up and took his other hand and looked up into his face.