Irish End Games, Books 4-5-6

by Kiernan-Lewis, Susan

  The trip back to the camp was faster than he could believe. He must have fallen asleep because the next moment, the back door was opening with a loud clang and the soldiers were yelling at them to get out. Mike stood up and immediately grabbed the side of the truck to steady himself.

  He felt a little stronger. The rest had helped. But he needed food. When he climbed down, he fell into line with the other men who knew the drill. He kept his head down, hoping the soldiers wouldn’t remember he and Gav had been handcuffed. Gavin must have had the same thought. He stayed close to Mike with his eyes on his feet.

  Two stretchers carrying covered corpses were walked by, being carried by other prisoners. A splinter of fear shot through Mike. Was it one of the compound men? Terry had said men died every day here. Mike could well believe it. Even well fed and well rested, just doing the work of a quarry rock splitter day in and day out would be enough to put most men in their graves before time.

  Once emptied of its human cargo, the truck pulled away and they were led away by the soldiers. Mike held his breath until he, Gavin, Carey and four other men were led to their hut. The soldiers opened the door and the seven men filed inside. Only when the door slammed behind them, did Mike let out an agonized sigh of relief that they wouldn’t be cuffed for the night.

  Tommy met them at the door with a small flashlight and Mike was glad to see the lad on his feet. Perhaps this was the bastards’ plan—work a man to the brink of death, give him a day of rest, and then wind him up again. In any case, Tommy’s day off had clearly done him wonders.

  “I saved ye some dinner,” he said to Gavin.

  “Is…is there no dinner tonight?” Mike asked, his anxiety and disappointment showing in his voice.

  “I’m sorry,” Tommy said. “You missed it. But Da was able to score a whole serving. He saved it for you.”

  Mike looked helplessly around the hut. The stench had hit him hard again as soon as he’d stepped inside. Most of the men were already lying on their bunks. Terry walked over to Mike and handed him a large, moldy piece of bread.

  “It’s not much,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t fecking apologize,” Mike growled. “Ye’ve got nothing to apologize for.” He took the bread and felt rage building inside his chest. “Did you eat, Terry?”

  “Aye,” Terry said, nodding eagerly so that Mike didn’t know if he could believe him or not.

  “They can work the life out of a man all day,” Mike said in exasperation, “and then not feed him at-tall? How do they expect ye to live long enough to do the fecking work?”

  Terry shook his head. “I don’t know what they expect,” he said. He pointed to an empty bed three bunks in. “The good news is there’s a bed for ye tonight,” he said.

  Mike looked at the empty bed—a bare mattress badly stained—and then back at the bread chunk in his hand. He took a bite and swallowed.

  “And is there some bad news to go with that?” he asked bitterly.

  “Aye,” Terry said sadly. “But there’s no point in talking of it.”

  **********

  The bed helped. Mike lay down, his stomach growling and his jaw still sore from the morning’s beating. He tried to think what he could do. He worked to slow down the pain, the need and the fear so that he could think. It seemed every time he looked over at Gavin, the lad was looking back at him with an expectant look in his eye. Unlike everyone else in this pit of doom who’d long given up hope, Gavin was keen to know whether his father had figured a way out yet.

  How long before the exhaustion and the hunger and the beatings reduced Mike to the feeble men he saw tottering about him in the hut? How long before his thoughts were only filled with his next meal or sip of water? If he didn’t find a way out of this place soon—as in now—every day pushed him further and further away from ever being able to do it.

  They’d been gone only four days. Had Sarah delivered? Was she safe? If she’d had the baby, when would she start thinking about coming after him? He ran a hand over his face and stifled a groan. There was no doubt she was coming as soon as she had that baby. Dear God, he had to get them out of here before that happened.

  He looked up to see the door to the hut open and a figure slip inside. Beyond initially looking up to see who it was, none of the other men seemed to care. Mike swung his feet over the side of the bed and placed them solidly on the slimy, fetid floor so he could see better.

  It was Father Ryan.

  I wonder where that lying sod has been all day?

  While granted Ryan looked nearly as emaciated as the rest of the men, it hadn’t escaped Mike’s attention that the good father had not been on the truck today and, given that he appeared to be able to come and go as he liked, probably wasn’t normally on it. He watched Ryan kneel by one of the bunks and pull out a small package. The other men were watching him, so clearly this had happened before. Ryan patted the man’s arm and moved to another bunk—this one higher up. Ryan murmured to him as if asking him how he was feeling. Then another small package came out. This time, Mike could smell it. Meat. Ryan took two more stops. Each time, eyes followed him but nobody made a move to stop him.

  Were the men giving him special leeway because of his collar? Perhaps they didn’t know what a lying, scheming bastard he was. But, even if the wanker had just returned from a nine-course banquet with the devil himself, he had brought food to the weakest in the tent. Mike decided to leave well enough alone. At least for now.

  He heard a muted laugh. Gavin and Tommy sat on the bed they’d shared and he was glad that the two lads could find a reason—in the middle of hell—to smile even if just for a moment. He saw Father Ryan drop his jacket onto his bunk not far from Mike. He watched him pull out his missal and sit for a moment holding it in his hands as if getting strength just from holding it. Then he got up and walked over to Mike.

  “Father,” Mike said with as much sarcasm as his weariness would allow.

  Ryan squatted in front of him but didn’t speak.

  “Something on your mind?” Mike asked, remembering as he looked at the man that he was the reason they’d lost Gavin all those months ago—and as a result of that, John, and then so much more.

  “Aye,” Ryan said softly. He held the missal to his chest. Mike wondered if he did it to remind Mike he was a priest. As if Mike needed reminding. It was because Ryan was a priest that he’d been trusted. Stupidly, ignorantly trusted.

  “Ye do remember I married you and Sarah,” Ryan said.

  “Is it likely I’d forget that?” Mike said.

  “I know you don’t trust me, Mike. I know you likely despise me.”

  “Get to the point. It’s been a long day.”

  “I have a message for you from Jaz.”

  Chapter 29

  Mike narrowed his eyes at the priest but his heart beat faster. He reminded himself what this man had done to his family. And yet…

  “How is it you’ve got a message from anyone on the outside?” Mike asked.

  “I have a certain amount of trust here—not much—but enough to parlay into a little flexibility.”

  “Like not working in the mines, I notice.”

  “I worked the mines every day until last month. They feel they get more good out of me by celebrating the Eucharist with the soldiers.”

  “You’re performing mass? For these monsters?”

  “The soldiers aren’t the monsters. They’re just following orders.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “I went into town with two of the soldiers yesterday. One of them had a baby born to his wife in the city. Contrary to what you might think, there aren’t enough priests to go around any more. I provide a service to them. And just maybe I help them hang onto their humanity.”

  Mike snorted. “Aye, you’d be the man for that job all right.”

  “I know what you think of me, Mike. I pray nightly for your forgiveness and for our Lord’s forgiveness for the terrible crime I committed against you and your fa
mily. You can’t hate me as much as I hate myself for what I did to you.”

  “To Gavin.”

  “Aye, and I’ve already apologized to the lad.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t deserve his forgiveness. I never expected it.”

  “Back to Jaz,” Mike said impatiently.

  “She’d obviously been watching the gate. When she saw me leave with the soldiers, she waited. On our drive back, we saw an attractive young woman lying in the middle of the road, who appeared injured and was only semi-clothed.”

  Jaysus, Jaz…Mike shook his head.

  “The soldiers stopped, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “I pretended not to know her and as I was attempting to ascertain her injuries, she slipped a note into my pocket. She then fled.”

  “I see. Do you have this note?”

  “Surely you can understand how dangerous such a thing would be were it found on my person. I destroyed it.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “In the note she gave instructions to meet her a few hours later by the north gate. There is a tall box hedge that the gate divides. She slipped behind the hedge on one side and myself on the other. It was almost like a confessional. I’ll spare you the threats of severe damage that would be inflicted upon my private parts if I were to betray you again. She gave me a message for you and we arranged to meet one more time.”

  “Why would I believe you?”

  “How would I know Jaz was with you? Have you told anyone here?”

  Mike had to admit he and Gav had only spoken of Jaz to Tommy and his father, Terry. It wasn’t impossible for Ryan to overhear but probably unlikely.

  “And her message to me?”

  “She said she has a way to get weapons.”

  “The crazy lass! Tell her to go back to the compound. Tell her—

  Ryan frowned. “Ye do know I can’t tell her anything, aye? She’s of a mind that she’s rescuing Tommy and she’s not going anywhere.”

  “She’ll only get herself killed!”

  “Be that as it may, I can’t tell her to go back to the compound. She wouldn’t listen.”

  Mike ran his hand through his hair in frustration. Even if every word out of the priest’s mouth was a lie, this at least, he believed. After a moment he said, “Tell me again what she said to you.”

  “She said, ‘Tell Mike I’ll get the weapons for whatever he’s planning.’”

  “What kind of weapons?”

  “She didn’t say.”

  “How will she get these weapons to us?”

  “I do not know.”

  Mike gave a snort of impatience.

  “I’m to meet her tomorrow noon to tell her what your plan is,” Ryan said.

  “I have no fecking plan!”

  Mike stood up in agitation and passed the beam of his flashlight over the others in the hut. Most of the men had fallen asleep in their beds, hungry, exhausted and too despondent to care about anyone’s conversation.

  “I can’t meet her but one more time without arousing suspicion. It’s dangerous enough as it is—for Jaz if not myself.”

  “How am I going to have a plan by noon tomorrow? It’s impossible.”

  Mike pointed the flashlight at Davey on his cot. The man hadn’t moved all day. What was the matter with him was anyone’s guess but starvation was a good bet. Ryan followed his glance.

  “We need to get him on his feet,” Ryan said solemnly. “And soon.”

  Mike frowned.

  “If not, they’ll take him to the sick tent,” Ryan explained.

  “Maybe that’s exactly where he needs to be,” Mike said.

  “It isn’t. It really isn’t.”

  Tommy and Gavin walked over to where Mike and Ryan were talking and sat down on Mike’s bed.

  “He’s right,” Tommy said quietly, his eyes straying to Davey’s bed. “The sick tent is a bullet to the back of the head.”

  “Jaysus,” Mike said. Things were moving quickly, crowding in on him. He looked at Gav and Tommy watching him. Hell, even Father Ryan was waiting for an answer. How could he let everyone down like this? How had he ever led them to believe he knew what he was doing?

  And now Davey was going to be executed because Mike couldn’t come up with a simple plan to get them all the hell out of here? Who was next? Davey’s brother Kevin had fallen three times on the way back to the hut tonight. How long before he got sent to the sick tent?

  “If this has to do with Jaz,” Tommy said, “You need to tell me. Is she okay?”

  “Aye, lad,” Father Ryan assured him. “She’s grand.”

  “You’ve seen her? You’ve talked to her?”

  Ryan hesitated and looked over their shoulders. Carey was openly watching them from his bunk. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Tell me,” Tommy said.

  “There’s nothing to tell,” Father Ryan said.

  Mike waved him away and Ryan returned to his bunk still holding his missal.

  “He talked to Jaz?” Gavin said, his eyes wide. “Can she get her hands on a gun?”

  “And then what, Gav?” Mike said in a rasping whisper. “Would ye have her march in here and shoot thirty guards? Are ye daft, lad?”

  “What if the thirty guards were busy with something else?” Tommy said. “Would that help?”

  “What the feck are ye talking about?” Mike asked.

  Tommy looked at Gavin, his eyes wide. “Maybe, just maybe, I might have an idea.”

  Mike’s stomach growled and he felt a wave of dizziness as he gripped the side of the metal bunk bed. Even though it wasn’t late, he could hear snores from most of the men.

  “Right, lad,” Mike said to Tommy. “What do you mean, you might have an idea?”

  “Okay,” Tommy said with growing excitement, “when they first loaded us in the trucks at Ameriland all they did was strip us of weapons, ye ken? But we got to keep watches and penlights and wedding bands and such.”

  Mike frowned and tried to keep from revealing his impatience to the lad.

  Tommy stretched out his arm to show the metal watch on his wrist.

  “I don’t wear it outside the hut.”

  “I’m surprised you still have it,” Gavin said.

  “Well, it’s not worth much in here. Not like a piece of bread or meat would be.”

  “Fine, lad,” Mike said. “So you have a watch. That’s handy.” Mike was nearing his limit for forbearance.

  “It tells the date. It’s how I know, among other things that on April the fourth we’re due for a total eclipse of the sun.”

  Chapter 30

  Hannah stood by the door listening to Julie’s screams. Fiona watched the girl flinch as every howl and every curse word seemed to send an electrical jolt straight through her. The rest of the women took turns holding Julie’s hands or sponging off her face while the midwife massaged her shoulders and checked on the progress of the baby’s birth. The children couldn’t sleep with the noise and Nuala was attempting to distract them with stories.

  As much as being with the rest of the women must surely be helping Julie’s agony, a part of Fiona understood why they separated the laboring mother from the children. There was probably not a girl child in this tent who would ever willingly allow herself to go through what Julie was enduring.

  The key word being willingly, Fiona thought as she looked at Ciara. The child’s eyes were riveted on Julie’s thrashing form, but her face revealed nothing. Fiona walked to her and tucked her into the pallet she shared with little Maeve.

  “You two go on and close your eyes, eh?” she said, forcing herself to smile.

  They stared back at her, solemn as owls.

  “They’ll be fine,” Nuala said from the corner where she stood with one of the toddlers in her arms. “They just know that Auntie Julie ate a bad oyster and as soon as she gets it out, she’ll be jake.”

  Fiona grinned and held out a hand to touch the child Nuala held. “I know ever
y child is treasured and not one more than another,” Fiona said. “I lost my mind back there and I beg your forgiveness.”

  “Forgiven. We’ll hear no more about it. How long before she pops it out, do ye ken?”

  Fiona watched Julie on her bed in the middle of the room. They’d been right to let the midwife in. The baby was stuck somehow. It had been over five hours since Julie’s water broke and there was still no progress. The midwife had seen it before and she knew what to do. It had been the right thing to let her help.

  “It’s a rough one,” Fiona said. “Or am I just imagining it?”

  “No,” Nuala said, shaking her head. “Baby’s lodged up there good and tight.” She lowered her voice. “If we were in a hospital they’d do a C-section by now.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Mrs. Reidy said as much when she came over to wash her face off a few minutes ago.”

  “Is she worried? The midwife?”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t talk much.”

  They both watched Julie for a moment and Fiona felt a tightening in her own belly. It’s not that she’d forgotten this part of it, but she didn’t remember it being this bad.

  Hannah sneezed and Fiona looked back at her. There was no reason for Hannah to still be standing by the door. The midwife was here. Hannah was still standing there because she felt there was nowhere else for her to go. Fiona walked over to her and Hannah watched her with distrustful eyes.

  “Are you okay, Hannah? That was pretty upsetting earlier with the men.”

  Hannah stared at Fiona with suspicion. Fiona sighed and put a hand on Hannah’s arm.

  “We’re all in this together,” she said softly.

  Hannah’s eyes filled with tears and her lips began to tremble. Within seconds she was in Fiona’s arms, her shoulders shaking with her sobs.

  “I’m so sorry,” Hannah said. “I didn’t want to.”