by Alex Myers
“The patients and inmates have broken into the courtyard,” Pinkerton pointed and yelled. They were pouring out of the first floor door and were trying to pick their way through the burning loading area. There was more pounding from the rooftop door hatch. “Come across, Jack.”
It started like the ripping of metal against metal, then a giant screech and then a monstrous crash. The metal support beams that held up the skyway bridge connecting the two buildings together, broke free. The burning debris fell into the scrambling escapees below. Screams of agony arose as people were crushed and set afire.
The falling bridge peeled away the upper corner of the plant building that had been Creed’s office demolishing one wall and exposing the only stairway. The metal framework of the stairs was wrenched away from the building and now led to nowhere, sticking out like a finger into space. Several Fire-eaters and Knights of the Golden Circle were flung into the burning chaos below. Another two people were on the metal stairway as it was quickly separating from the three-story building.
“It’s Louis Wigfall and…” Pinkerton said looking through the spyglass, “…and Frances Sanger!”
“I’ve got to go,” Jack said. He turned and ran to the air wing. He picked it up and carried it near the edge closest to the stairwell. Flames were licking up the walls of the stairwell from where the bridge had come detached. “Frances, go back up to the office,” he yelled.
The stairs dropped down four feet and tilted to a downward angle. Scowling as he fell, Louis Wigfall fell into the red-hot fire created by the exploding astrolite. Somehow Frances had hooked an arm. She climbed the two steps to the top as the stairs hitched again, and finally fell. Frances got to her knees.
“Stay there!” Jack yelled.
She looked in his direction. “Jack, it’s you. Don’t come here, there’s no way out of here.” The flames were climbing the exposed wood paneling of the stairway.
Ken Barnett pointed behind Jack. There was a crash as the trapdoor leading to the floors below broke free. First, a frenetic hand appeared, then the door opened wider and a man started to climb through. Then more hands and more people jammed the hole.
“You’ve got to come across now,” Pinkerton said, looking at the people emerging from the stair shaft.
The fire across the reach leading to Creed’s office was a solid wall of flame. Frances stood to escape the flames and moved back deeper into the office. She pounded on the floor to ceiling glass.
“You can’t do it, Jack. There’s nowhere to go even if you could get to it,” Ken said. Pinkerton and Hercules urged him back.
Jack was doing some mental calculations. Two raging lunatics from the lower floors were now on the roof and more were on the way. Jack turned to his friends and called, “Kick that ladder down, before they get here.”
“Jack! There’s no hope.”
“Then I’ll die with the woman I love.”
CHAPTER 29
Tuesday, July 7, 1857
Without putting on the harness to the wing, Jack held it up and ran toward the river, not the corner of the office. Jack hung down from the harness bar but could control the path of the air-wing perfectly. When he hit the rising air current over the river, he flew up and out and began a wide turn. He not only avoided the intense updraft from the fire of the burning sky bridge, but he gave himself a better target.
He could see Frances’s eyes grow ever wider as he and the wing got closer and closer to the window. Jack gave a quick movement of his head as he silently told her to move. He hoped she understood his message.
At the last possible second, Frances seemed to figure out what Jack was going to do and dove into the smoke-filled interior of Winston Creed’s Office. He flew the leading edge of the Rogallo Wing into the specially made, floor to ceiling, plate-glass window. The bamboo and rubberized canvas crumpled, but the speed and momentum kicked Jack’s feet up and he crashed through the window.
Smoke billowed out of the broken window. Frances brushed off the big chunks of glass and lifted the crumpled canvas off Jack. When she found him, he was smiling.
“Hi there.”
She slapped him and then kissed him. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Thanks, Sweetie. And the bravest. Can you help me out of here?”
She pulled a piece of ripped canvas off him and he was able to move. He was still smiling. “Do you realize there is no way out of here?”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Jack said, standing and brushing himself off. The smoke was getting worse. “Where’s Abner?”
“He was leading the way down the stairs when the building came apart. He told me not to leave. He was holding me here against my will.”
“Is he dead?”
“He has to be. I don’t think anyone made it out.”
Jack walked to the window, looked out, down, and all around, shook his head, and walked back to her. “Would a damn fire escape have been too much to ask for?”
He grabbed Frances’s hand and pulled her a few feet into the interior of the room. “Do you love me?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then run as fast as you can.” Jack grabbed her hand and ran toward the open window. “Now jump!”
They were thirty-five feet over the fast moving water of the James River. Time elongated, stopped, as everything Jack had ever hoped for had come true. He had never been happier in his entire life. He didn’t want to hit the water, because he never wanted this feeling too end.
When they hit the water, just before they sunk beneath the waves, Frances would always remember the smile on Jack’s face.
And he would remember hers.
CHAPTER 30
Wednesday, July 8, 1857
Jack saw his friend Allan Pinkerton approaching from the opposite direction on Prince George Street. He waved him over.
“I do say, you don’t look too bad for a man that jumped forty feet out of a burning building into the James River. I still think that was mighty brave.”
“I think that was more desperation than bravery. Thank goodness it was deep enough and we both went in feet first.”
“Then when the two of you didn’t come up right away—“
“That current was strong. Did you ever find Abner’s body?” Jack asked as he pushed out a seat for Pinkerton at his table. Jack was having coffee at the cafe in front of the College Inn.
“No one has seen him. It’s as if he vanished into the ether,” Pinkerton said.
“So, none of the burned bodies could be Abner’s?”
“Not from that side of the plant. Everyone there has been accounted for. Now the other side, with all the patients, prisoners, and slaves—that’s a different story” Pinkerton looked as if he had been sifting through the ash and rubble himself.
“Dale Dudley, Augie Overstreet, and Robert Rhett all made it out and have already met with Ken Barnett about keeping him on at the Virginia Beach Research Facility. Dale Dudley is going to take over the day-to-day of the SAC, they are going to try to make farm implements. That means the two real subversives on the board, Wigfall and Yancy…”
“Are both dead. They account for two of the three dead on the manufacturing side,” Pinkerton said.
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“A lucky thing is more like it. There were six dead on the prisoner side, I wouldn’t be surprised if two or three weren’t dead already even before the bomb exploded.”
Jack was troubled. “There was no fire on the prisoner side, that was pure chaos in there. There were no guards and you had killers mingling with psychopaths. I’ll admit they had more explosive material stored there than I thought. I never meant for the magnitude of that explosion. You all know I was just trying to create a diversion.”
“Jack, no one is blaming you, certainly not me. We did what we had to do, not only to rescue Kazmer and Sam, but to bring an end
to the suffering and cruelty of which those people were being subjected.” Pinkerton brushed the soot from his sleeves. “I might go up to my room and change, have them draw me a bath. Where is everyone? Kazmer still at the doctor?”
“Sam just picked him up and is taking him back to Norfolk in a wagon, said he didn’t want to ride in my boat because it makes him queasy. They have Murphy’s body with them.”
“I’m so sorry again, Jack. I knew him just a couple of days and liked him so much.”
“He was a little like a dad to me.” Jack thought about it and then smiled. “If not a father figure, at least a crazy old uncle.”
“I’m glad to hear Kazmer is better. Did he ever say why he went over?” Pinkerton asked.
“For whatever reason, he has always had a fatalistic crush on this Mattie Turner. He thought they were holding her against her will and he was willing to do whatever he could to save her. I don’t blame him, I just wish he would have discussed it with me beforehand.”
“Kind of like the same thinking you did for your friends,” Pinkerton said with a smile.
“When he found out Mattie was in love with Adkins and didn’t want to be rescued, he tried to take the stuff back and leave, but they wouldn’t let him.”
“And Sam? How did they get him?”
“From what I can gather, and I think he’s a little fuzzy on this, he got really drunk, went down to the waterfront to get on my boat, ended up sleeping on one of their boats heading up to Williamsburg, woke up on their dock, and when they found out who he was they threw him in a cell with Kazmer.”
“I’ve been over at the plant so much in the last couple of days. Where’s everyone else?” Pinkerton asked.
“Ken went back to Virginia Beach, he said he had some Fire-eater house cleaning to do. Frank and Frances went to Norfolk last night, they had some business thing, but they should be back any minute. And Hercules is up in Murphy’s room reading, that all it seems he ever does now. Tomorrow we are all heading back to Norfolk. We are going to lay Murphy to rest along the shores of Broad Creek.”
“Why are Frank and Frances coming all the way back just to go back to Norfolk again tomorrow?”
“They are not, only Frances. Her father’s going to catch a train out of Richmond this afternoon for New York. Frances just went with him to Norfolk for company yesterday. He had to hire a captain and crew for his new boat. Frances and I were going to sail the boat down tomorrow and deliver it. Would you like to come along?”
“I would love to. I’ve been with the sheriff helping round up the escaped prisoners and mental patients. We think we got them all, but we are not really sure how many there were in the first place. But he’s got it covered from here. What are you going to do now?” Pinkerton asked.
“Hopefully go to dinner with my future wife tonight.”
CHAPTER 31
Wednesday, July 8, 1857
Jack and Frances met in the lobby of the hotel and walked the two blocks to the restaurant Hudson’s on the Bend. It was the nicest place in town, right on the edge of William and Mary. The place had survived for nearing 170 years, and was still popular when Jack went to school there in the late 1990s. They were seated and Jack ordered a bottle of wine.
“Daddy says that he can arrange a meeting with you and President Buchanan. He and Uncle Andrew were big contributors to his campaign and he owes them a favor. They knew how middle-of-the-road he is and thought he would be the best candidate for avoiding war. I told my dad about your ideas to give the negroes land in the Western Territories. He says as wishy-washy as Buchanan is, he’ll probably go for the idea. Anyway, be ready to meet with the President at the end of August to discuss your plan.”
“That’s wonderful. I’ve got to get together with Mr. Emerson and the folks from the meeting in Washington Square. We are working on a plan that outlines the blacks helping the Indians with their agricultural needs, and the government setting aside vast game preserves with Native Americans running and policing it. They would trade meat and pelts through black and Indian owned businesses. I have the support of several free black leaders, including Fredrick Douglass.”
“What kind of support do you have with the redskins?”
“In my day, they call themselves Native Americans. Even calling them ‘Indians’ has a negative connotation to it. Anyway, I sent out a fact-finding committee to try and organize the Native American effort to unify. They’re not having the easiest of times, but preliminary reports are encouraging. I’m sure there’ll be abuse from all the races, but if we base this all on free market economics, perhaps there’s a chance.”
Frances looked stunned. “When did you have time to do all this?”
“Well, somewhere in between fighting with you and dating Kady…”
She hit his arm and they both laughed. “No, really, Jack?”
“I attribute any and all success I’ve had in formulating this plan to having enough cash to fund the start-up, and most of all, having people much smarter than myself doing all the hard thinking. All I did was provide that War Committee group at New York University with an outline, and people like Conrad Poppenhusen and Ralph Waldo Emerson picked it up and took off with it. I figure I’ll have about a twenty-page report to discuss with the President. I’d like to have all the pieces in place before I present it to him.”
“This is all pretty impressive. I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you for the compliment, but as long as it prevents the war, hell even delays the thing for a while, the economics alone should keep it from happening. I hope you don’t mind me changing the subject. What about us?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I have something I’d like to ask you.” He got out of his chair, moved it aside, got down on one knee, and took her hand. “I can’t think of a better, more glorious day.” Her eyes were positively sparkling in the candle’s bobbing glow. He stared into her eyes and they never looked softer or dreamier. Her look of anticipation gave him the courage to continue. “There's an old saying that goes: ‘Love comes all at once’ and today I know that it's not true. I never thought I could love more than when we jumped out that window together, but I do.”
“You look like you have something to ask me.”
He deliberately made her wait. “What I’m trying to say…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, dark blue velvet covered box. He opened it and pulled out a ring. “What I’m trying to ask is… will you marry me?”
He first saw the answer on her face, then heard her sweet words. “Oh yes, I do know now… I love you, too.”
“It’s nice to finally hear you say it. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jack said.
“I understand how you can think that I’m crazy. Thank you for putting up with me and showing me that you'll always be there for me, no matter what. I want to do the same for you. Of course I’ll marry you, Jack.”
He placed the engagement ring on her finger and asked the waiter to bring out the champagne he had ordered earlier and had sitting on ice. “I’m so happy.”
She admired the look of the ring on her finger. “When did you get this? And how did you know what size?”
“I tried on one of your other rings and it just barely fit over the first knuckle of my pinky finger, I figured out the size from that. I bought the ring in New York over a month ago. I was going to give it to you the night we had our argument after dinner with Samuel.”
“I guess I ruined your plans that night, didn’t I?”
“That might be why I took it so hard. I’ve never given a ring to a woman before, and definitely never ever asked anyone to marry me.”
“Oh, Jack!” She held out her arms and they hugged for long enough to get smiles from the other patrons, who had been watching since he got down on his knee.
They ate their dinner, constantly grabbing each other’s hands and squeezing.
“There’s one thing that bothers me,” he said, finishing his key-lime pie. “But per
haps this is the wrong time to bring it up?”
“What is it, Jack?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about the time I got hurt and was in the hospital. I woke up in the twenty-first century, I think. Not only do we have to worry about all the normal stuff a couple does, but there’s the distinct possibility that I could be ripped away from here.”
“Don’t get me nervous now. That was just probably a freak accident—you know, getting hit on the same place on your head.”
“I’m not sure anything happens by accident. Never before in my life have I felt the hands of providence so much at play. I just think that we have to consider it a possibility.”
She looked off in thought and said, “So what do you want to do about it?”
“For the most part, nothing. I think we just need to look at every day as a gift. Cherish every moment we have.”
“That doesn’t sound like the worst idea in the world, anyway.”
“There is one other thing I would like to do… I’d like to have a place where we could leave word for each other if we ever got separated.”
“I’m not sure I’m following. Separated how?”
“Me going ahead in time, or back, or wherever.”
“Okay… that is more than a little disturbing, but okay.”
“I’d like to take half my cash I have on deposit at my bank and cash it in for gold. Last I checked, gold was around $20 an ounce. In 2013 it goes up to around $1700, that’s $6.5 million. I’d like to squirrel it away in this same place. ”
“So if you lose me at least you’ll end up rich.”
“Well… yes. I’m pretty much a loser in 2013.”
This made her laugh and lightened the mood. “Where would you like to hide it?”
“Well, that’s the problem. If I decided to bury it in an empty field, who could say that the site wouldn’t be excavated sometime in the next 150 years? I thought that a national park would be an idea, but there are no National Parks yet. I could go to what I know would be one, but who’s to say they wouldn’t build a ranger station or concession stand on the spot. But you know what I’ve seen since I’ve been here in Tidewater—Old Fort Monroe at the mouth of the harbor. I took a tour there once and they said the Chapel had been there nearly 180 years. In that time—other than a few coats of paint and replacing a couple of windows—no other renovations had been done. I’ve checked it out, it does look the same as I remember it from my time.”