Sitting in the dark, he told me that he was on rear guard, walking well behind us when the ambush hit. By the time he got close, it was over. He figured we were all dead until he saw a couple soldiers dragging me away. So he hid nearby and waited for a chance.
“Nice shooting,” I said. “You got the first one right through the neck. You remember him?”
“Hobbes. Should’ve killed that bastard back when.”
“Better late than never.”
Riley was quiet, but I knew his next question.
“They took Jane alive,” I said. “I saw it. Hobbes told me they were going to put her on trial.”
“Where’d they take her?”
“Don’t know. Hobbes didn’t say. Maybe he didn’t know.”
“You get some rest,” Riley said. “I’ll keep watch. We’ll figure out what to do in the morning.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
I used Riley’s bedroll and lay down. I knew I needed to sleep, but I couldn’t let myself go. I just lay there and remembered it all, again and again. I remembered one thing I hadn’t told Riley.
It was when Jane caught sight of me, struggling to my feet, trying to get to her. She had managed to shout something while shaking her head. But I couldn’t hear. I went over that moment again and again in my memory. I watched her lips move and tried to understand what she was trying to tell me.
Then I realized what it was. She had shouted, “No!”
She hadn’t wanted me to help her.
I wouldn’t tell Riley this.
I wouldn’t tell anyone.
I would get her back.
CHAPTER 27
“No!” Campbell shouted, slamming his hand down on the table. “Now get the hell out of this camp!”
Riley and I stood on the other side of the table. Through the window, I could see men outside stopping to look, wondering about the shouting.
“All right, Colonel,” I said. “We’ll get! But God damn you, and God damn Charles fucking Winslow, for not helping Jane.”
“Amen!” Riley said.
“I ought to have you two shot for desertion,” shouted Campbell. He leaned across the table, glaring at us.
We glared back.
Then he winked.
Confused, I looked at Riley. Just as confused, Riley looked back at me.
Campbell shouted, “Lieutenant Penland! Get these two out of here. Now!” Campbell turned away, done with us.
Soon we were out of the camp and in the woods, heading down the same path we had so often climbed with Jane.
“What do we do now?” I said to Riley.
“Don’t know,” he said.
We kept walking until it started getting dark. Then we stopped to build a fire.
It had taken a week for us to get to Campbell. In that time, Jane could’ve been taken anywhere in government territory. Riley and I had no way of knowing. We thought Campbell might know where she was, or how to get the Government to let her go. We thought he would want to help Jane. Instead, he turned us down flat.
Then he winked at us.
“What was that wink about?” Riley said.
“Don’t know.”
We fell silent. Riley may have been thinking about what we should do, but I was remembering: A soldier pulling the rifle from Jane’s hands, another dragging her away. Then the rifle butt coming toward my head--
A sound of movement out in the dark. Riley grabbed his rifle, and I picked up a big stick as a club.
A voice called out, “Don’t shoot. Campbell sent me.”
Campbell? I thought.
“Come on then. Slow,” Riley said.
A man came out of the darkness into the fire light. His hands were up. He had a canvas bag in one hand and a bedroll in the other.
When he got closer, I recognized him. It was Lieutenant Penland, who had taken us out of camp.
“Campbell sent you?” I said.
“Yeah,” Penland said. “He wants to help.”
“Then why the fuck didn’t he say so?” I said.
“Politics,” Penland said. “Jane tried to wreck the treaty with the Government. Besides, Winslow’s afraid she wanted his job. So he won’t do a thing for her.”
“That sumbitch,” Riley said. “She saved his ass.”
Penland nodded. “Campbell agrees. But if he does anything to help Jane, Winslow will make Jackson his Chief of Staff, and Jane will get no help at all.”
“So that explains the wink,” I said.
“Wink?” Penland said.
“Never mind,” Riley said. “How’s Campbell gonna help?”
“Jane’s in Asheville,” Penland said. He pulled out an old map from inside his coat and showed us. South of the city, there was a big green area surrounding something marked ‘Biltmore House.’ Penland said, “Way before the Plague a rich man built a big house there, a kind of palace. The Government took it over.”
“How do you know Jane’s there?” I said.
“That’s what the Government is saying on their radio broadcasts,” he said
“What else do they say?” I said.
“They’re going to try her for murder, terrorism, and other things. Sometimes, they talk about how crazy she is because she talks to God. And they say she refuses to confess. ‘Remains defiant,’ is what they say.”
“‘Remains defiant,’” Riley said. “That’s Jane.”
“If we know where she is,” I said, “how do we get her out?”
“We don’t know,” Penland said. “But there’s a group fighting the Government. It’s called the Underground. We’ve had contact with them for a while, and they might want to help.”
“What’ll they do?” Riley said.
“They might give you a place to hide, food, information. But more than that . . .” Penland shrugged.
“How do we find them?” I said.
Penland told us to go to a particular house after dark. He showed it to us on the map. One of us should go to the door, say his name was Watson, and that he was looking for Holmes.
“Watson looking for Holmes,” I said. “A code?”
“Yeah. If they say nobody named Holmes is there, it’s not safe. Get away.”
“What do we do then?” Riley said.
“You’re on your own. That’s our only way to get in contact with them.”
Riley let out a low whistle. We were climbing pretty far up a shaky tree.
Penland gave us the map and the canvas bag, which held two pistols, extra ammunition, and some food. He handed me the bedroll and said, “Campbell noticed you didn’t have one of these.”
“Thank him for me,” I said.
“One last thing,” Penland said. “I’m sorry, but if you get caught, Campbell will deny you got help from us.”
“The Colonel shouldn’t worry,” Riley said. “They’ll likely shoot us without much fuss.”
“Please thank him for everything,” I said.
Penland nodded. “I’ll pray for you.” He shook hands with us and walked away, back toward the camp.
Riley and I spent some time checking the pistols and looking at the map. Then we sat, gazing into the fire.
“How in the world are we gonna do this?” I said.
“What was it Jane used to say? ‘If it’s God’s will, He’ll make a way. I just have to be ready.’”
“Are you ready?”
He smiled. “Ready? I was born ready.” It was an old joke.
“No, for real. Their headquarters. The belly of the beast.”
His smile went away. “Can’t see any way around it.”
We were quiet for a bit.
“You know,” I said, “I feel bad cause I got you into this.”
“Got me into this?”
“Yeah, back at the beginning. The Captain told me I’d need another man. I picked you.”
He laughed. “Sure, you got me into this. But I got you back into it. Even went to get you. Remember?”
I shrugged. He had a point.
<
br /> “So I reckon we’re even,” he said.
“Yeah. Reckon so.”
We sat and watched until the fire burned down to embers.
CHAPTER 28
“So that’s Asheville,” I said.
“Yeah,” Riley said. “Ever been down here?”
“No. You?”
“No. A cousin came down once to do some trading. The sumbitch got drunk and lost everything in a card game.”
“And you wonder why city folk think Hillbillies are dumb.”
Daylight was fading behind the mountains to our west, and the lights were coming on in the city. From the hillside where we stood, I looked toward the southern edge of the city, where the Government headquarters was, where Jane might be. We were too far away, and it was too dark to see anything.
Riley and I had said little in the days we had been traveling. Until we contacted the Underground, we did not know a damn thing. So why talk? Tomorrow we would find the house and we would know something. Good or bad, we would know.
We settled in for the night without building a fire. We were too close to the Government’s army for that. Riley took the first watch, as he always did, and I went to sleep. I dreamt of the soldiers taking Jane away. She was in pain. I could see it in her eyes. Then I saw the rifle in her hands the moment before they took it away from her. And then, it wasn’t in her hands, but in mine, and I was giving it to her. Then, it wasn’t a rifle. It was a flower. We were in a meadow, and I was handing her a flower I had picked just for her.
She didn’t look the way I had known her. Her hair was long, and she wore a dress. She smiled at me as I handed her the flower. I was going to say something, something I was frightened to say. And then, she asked me if I wanted more eggs. We were in a kitchen, a kitchen like my mother’s, and Jane was putting fried eggs on my plate. I looked around the table, and there were two children. Our children.
I turned to smile at Jane, but we weren’t in the kitchen anymore. We were in the woods. Jane was ahead, wearing her old clothes again, running from me. I called to her, and she turned. Then she was holding up one hand as if I should stop, as if I should go back. She shook her head and shouted something.
Then soldiers were everywhere, all shooting at me. I could hear the bullets go by and feel the way they made the air move.
Then the rifle butt was coming toward me, and again I watched, and again I wondered why I didn’t duck. It hit me. Then I saw myself kneeling on the ground, my head bent forward. I couldn’t see my face. The soldiers were standing around me, and one had a pistol to my head. I recognized him. It was Hobbes. He had a pistol to my head and was going to shoot me. I wondered where Jane was.
But then the kneeling man wasn’t me anymore. It was Riley. Hobbes fired the pistol, and Riley’s head exploded. I could hear Jane screaming. I looked at Hobbes, but the man with the smoking pistol was now me.
I was awake, sitting up and breathing hard. Riley was looking at me. I held up a hand and said, “A dream.”
Riley nodded and turned away to let me settle down.
But I wasn’t going to sleep, not that night. So I got up and relieved Riley.
He fell asleep, and I was alone in the dark. I thought about the dream even though I knew I shouldn’t. I had the urge to wake Riley up and tell him about it. I had the urge, but I didn’t. It’s just a dream, I thought. Just a dream.
The next day we found the house. It was on the edge of town, and only one building nearby seemed occupied. Riley and I hid in a thicket with a view of the front door. We waited until it was full-on dark.
“I’ll go,” I said. “You’re a better shot. Cover me with your rifle.”
“Good luck, Mr. Watson,” he said.
“I just hope Mr. Holmes is in this evening.”
I walked toward the house. I could hear music coming from the front room, where a single lamp glowed. Someone was playing the fiddle. But it wasn’t like the fiddle music we had up home. The music was slow and strange, complicated. Beautiful.
I went into the yard. After one last look around, I walked up the steps, drew a breath, and knocked on the door.
The music stopped, and the lamp in the front room went out. I held my empty hands out at my sides. In the front window, the curtains moved. They were taking a look at me.
I heard movement inside. A bolt slid back, and the door opened a few inches. A woman’s voice said, “What do you want?”
“My name’s Watson,” I said. “I’m looking for Holmes.”
Silence.
I started again, “My name is--”
“We heard you,” the woman said.
A long pause. Then the door opened. The woman said, “Slow. Keep you hands where we can see them.”
I drew another breath and walked forward through the doorway. Then I felt a gun barrel press against the back of my head. “Keep moving,” said a man’s voice, and I walked forward. I heard the door shut and the bolt slide home.
The man said, “Stop.” I stopped and saw the flare of a match to my right. The woman lit a lamp.
“You armed?” the man said.
“Yes,” I said. “A pistol in the back, under my coat.”
The woman put the lamp down on a table. I could see her now. Tall and lean with dark hair, she had the look of someone ready for a fight. She took my pistol, checked to see if it was loaded, and aimed it at my belly.
“You alone?” The man said.
“No. One more. Across the road.”
“What do you want?”
“Help.”
“What kind of help?”
“Jane Darcy.”
“Jane Darcy?” he said. “She’s at Government headquarters. Everyone knows that. Is that all you want?”
“No. We want to get her out.”
“You’d need an army to get her out of there.”
“Will you help us or not?” I said.
There was a long silence. The woman gave a single nod. Then the gun was pulled away from my head, and the man said, “We’ll see. Get your partner. Meet you around back.”
I turned to look at him. He was a tall balding man without a beard, about my father’s age. “My pistol?” I said.
He nodded in the direction of the woman. I turned back toward her. She handed it to me, and I stuck it in my belt.
I waited until they put out the lamp before going out onto the porch. Taking a deep breath, I signaled Riley to follow me to the back.
The man took us to the cellar. He showed us a chamber behind a set of shelves. That was our hiding place should soldiers, or anyone else, come to the house.
“I imagine you’re hungry,” he said. “We’ll get you some food. Then we’ll talk.”
The woman brought us each a bowl of stew, which Riley and I ate quickly. It was our first hot food in a long time.
The man and the woman sat on wooden crates and asked questions. They wanted to know about our militia, about the war, about Jane’s part in it. When we told them we wanted to rescue Jane, they looked at us like we were crazy.
“If they were from the Government,” the man said, “they’d have a more believable story.”
Riley and I kept quiet, waiting.
Finally, the woman said, “We’ll have to get a decision from the leadership.” The man nodded.
“How do you do that?” I said.
“You don’t need to know,” the man said.
“How long will it take?” I said.
“It will take as long as it takes,” he said.
So much, I thought, for asking questions.
“In the meantime,” the woman said, “we’ll see what you can do about the way you look.”
Riley and I glanced at each other.
“In what we’re doing,” the woman said, “you never want people to notice you. But everything about you two, your clothes, your hair, and no offense, the way you smell, just screams, ‘Hillbilly.’”
“None taken, Ma’am,” I said. “But what can we do about that.”
>
“A bath and a haircut to begin,” she said. “And we’ll wash your clothes.”
“What are your names?” I said.
“It’s better if you don’t know,” he said. “Call us John and Mary. What shall we call you?”
“You mean, not my real name?” I said.
“Right,” he said.
“Call me Peter,” I said.
“Paul,” Riley said.
“OK, Peter and Paul,” the woman said. “You get some sleep now. We’ll start tomorrow.”
They went upstairs. Riley and I laid out our bedrolls.
“Whatcha think?” Riley said.
“Not what I expected, but we have to trust them.”
“Reckon so.”
Soon, I could hear the sound of Riley’s breathing. Riley had a talent for falling asleep. I didn’t. I just lay awake, thinking about Jane and the strange music.
The next day I had my first bath in a long time. I felt a sorry for Riley, who had let me go first. He would have to use the same water after I was done. But it didn’t bother him.
“Up home, my three older brothers always used the bath water before me,” he said. “And you’re a damned sight cleaner than they ever was.”
My clothes were still drying, so I put on some britches and a shirt John gave me. I felt like I was wearing a tent when I went to Mary for my haircut.
She sat me down, and put a sheet over me and cinched it up around my neck. Then she started pulling a comb through my wet hair. “Are you Peter or Paul?” she said.
It took me a moment to remember my false name. “I think I’m Peter.”
“So Peter, how old are you?”
“Almost 20, Ma’am. How old are you?”
She stopped combing. “Don’t you mountain boys know it’s not polite to ask a woman her age?”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am,”
She started combing my hair again and said, “Don’t call me ‘Ma’am.’ It makes me feel old.”
“Should I call you Mary?”
“That’ll do.” She began using scissors to trim my beard.
I let her work in silence for a while. Then I said, “Last night, was that you playing the fiddle?”
“Yes, but it’s called the violin.”
“Violin? It was beautiful. I’ve never heard anything like it. What was the tune?”
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