The Great Locomotive Chase, 1862

by T. L. B. Wood

  The dirt road which was in reasonably good condition curved along the margins of heavily wooded hillsides before dipping down into broad meadows. The sun hovered, bright and warm, overhead. We passed remote a farmstead where I saw a farmer out in a field, manhandling a plow pulled by a dusty, thin mule. A young child, his hair bleached white by the sun, sat on the lip of a furrow, his bare feet tunneling down into the freshly turned dirt. The boy raised his head to watch my passage, throwing up a hand in a friendly wave, which I returned. Everything that lived in those hills seemed to be lean and driven towards survival. I stopped briefly in a couple of small hamlets to allow the horse to rest, cool down and have water. Kipp and Elani stayed alert, canvassing the thoughts of the humans we encountered to watch for any signs of evil intent.

  We travelled on until darkness fell. I unhitched the horse and set him to rest and graze, knowing Kipp could persuade him to return if he wandered too far. Our camp was a cold one, and I'd decided to sleep in the back of the buggy since I lacked a sleeping pallet or much else. The ambient temperature was pleasant and mild, and the lupines would snuggle up against me, in any case. I was drifting off when I heard the horse give a loud snort of alarm. He didn't bolt but instead hovered close to us, since we had become his herd mates. Off in the tree line, I could barely make out a large dark shape that was causing the underbrush to tremble. There was a loud, wet, snuffling sound, and I felt the hair go up on the back of my neck. Kipp was standing in the buggy, his body rigid, as he stared into the darkness.

  "A bear," he finally said. "A mother bear with two cubs," he added.

  Mother bears were notoriously unstable, and I wanted her away from the camp. For a moment, I gave consideration to firing off a dummy round from the shotgun but realized the horse would probably run ten miles in response.

  "Elani and I can handle this," Kipp said, never the one to lack self confidence. "We'll get up wind of her, and she'll think we are wolves. She should turn and head off up that hillside," he concluded.

  "Make sure you get your trajectory correct so that she doesn't run this way and try to hop up here with me," I replied. Despite the fact I completely trusted Kipp, I had no trust in all in the mother bear. And, after all, how many bears had Kipp herded in his brief lifetime?

  Elani, looking game and ready for a wildlife adventure, hopped down after him, and I watched their forms, slunk low to the ground like predatory wolves, running back and forth until the bear finally caught wind of them and wheeled, rushing her cubs to the deepening forest. Kipp sauntered back, cocky and happy, his tongue lolling almost to the ground. He paused to give the horse a reassuring mind suggestion that all was well before returning to me.

  "Just call me The Bear Whisperer," he said as he circled and became comfortable, plopping his head on my chest. Elani mimicked him on the other side of me. Warmth and safety was not a problem on that night.

  Chapter 21

  Since I'd eaten so well the previous day, I wasn't particularly hungry and nibbled while Kipp and Elani feasted on cheese, dried beef and bread. They could have gone without and suffered no ill effects, but as Kipp liked to remind me, we never knew when the next meal might be available, so we might as well eat hearty when opportunity knocked.

  The horse, grateful for his night of rest, rubbed his big head up and down against my chest as I tried to get the harness bit between his teeth. It finally took the bribe of an apple to get him to open his mouth. After settling the bit, I finished buckling the harnesses into place and backed him into position in front of the buggy.

  "You really know how to do this stuff!" Kipp exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder.

  "You just think you know me," I said, winking at him. Turning I smiled at Elani. Her heart was still aching over Peter, but I gave her a reassuring nod. "We're almost on our way."

  The landscape was relatively unchanged from the previous day, and we met a few people going in the opposite direction. Invariably, we were greeted with a tipped hat and a muttered "Good day, ma'am." Just after midday, a couple of men on horseback passed us, nodding as they went by. Kipp's head, which was wedged on top of my left shoulder, pivoted as he watched the men progress northward. Of course, his thoughts were so constantly entangled with mine, that I felt his alarm and conducted my own survey of the men.

  "They are going to turn around any minute," Kipp said. "They're arguing if we have anything of value and figure, at the very least, we have a horse and buggy they can sell."

  I felt my heart begin to pound. I suppose it was time that our good fortune having met decent people had run out. Leaning forward, I reached under the seat, and my fingers felt the hard, cold metal of the shotgun. I really had no wish to harm anyone and my doing so would definitely change the arc of history. But even symbionts had the right to protect themselves.

  "Let me and Elani try to deal with this first," Kipp said. His voice was firm and insistent in my head.

  "Be careful," I replied.

  The two men had turned and were trotting up behind me, their horses on either side of the buggy. I kept my eyes forward and purposefully ignored them, even though I could see them drawing close in my peripheral vision. My gaze was focused to a distant spot highlighted between the bobbing, upright ears of the horse. Despite my confidence in my abilities and those of the lupines, the moment grew tense with anticipation.

  "Hold up there, missy," one of the men called out. He kicked his horse, urging it forward so that he could go ahead and grab the reins of my horse.

  I heard a series of shouts as Kipp and Elani both leapt, as if spring loaded, knocking each of their targeted men off their horses, respectively, to fall hard to the unyielding ground. Once down, after the shock and amazement wore off, the men's hands automatically went to the waistbands of their pants where each of them had a long barreled revolver shoved into their britches. However, their hands never touched the guns; Kipp and Elani took up position, teeth bared, growling in that truly intimidating deep throated style of a large dog or wolf. Both men froze, staring at the lupines who were just inches away from their faces. I pulled up my horse and climbed down, nabbing the shotgun from beneath the bench seat. With it cradled in my arms, I walked slowly towards the men, my thumb on the hammer to show them I meant business.

  "Kipp, Elani, step back," I ordered. They both complied, getting clear of the scene. I stared at the men who still wore that silly look of amazement on their grimy faces. They were poor, from the look of their clothing, scavengers, perhaps. But my empathy stopped at humans who wished to do me or mine harm.

  "Take it easy," Kipp said, looking at me, rolling his eyes.

  "Oh, I'm not going to shoot them, Kipp. You know that. But I want to scare the absolute living stink out of them." I closed one eye at my partner.

  Overhead the skies suddenly cleared as if all the angels in heaven wanted to view our little human drama. One could only hope that I would frighten the two men enough that they would rethink their current career choice of opportunistic scallywags, or else they would continue along their sociopathic journey of life. Yes, there was no doubt I was doing them a great favor. A breeze from the northwest stirred the leaves; we must have been near a body of water, because I could distinctly hear the bright sound of water tumbling over rocks in its rush to an uncertain destination.

  "I want you both to take your guns and lay them on the ground." I frowned at the men. "And be careful, because if I just vaguely get the impression you're going to try and shoot me, I will let go with a barrel full for each of you."

  The men hesitated for just a second; Kipp, as a motivator, growled and took a step towards them. With alacrity, the men carefully pulled the pistols out, barrels down, and laid them on the grass. I ordered the crestfallen duo to stand and begin walking in the opposite direction. With care, I picked up the guns and put them under the bench seat.

  "Petra, they are saying really bad things about you," Elani said, her voice worried. "I'm not familiar with some of the words but understand the meaning
behind them... unfortunately."

  I grinned at her in response. Bless her, she was still so young and naïve in so many ways... a gentle soul in a not-so-gentle world. Reaching forward, I scratched the top of her broad skull before sending her and Kipp to chase then men's horses to Timbuktu while I resumed our trip to Rome. After a few minutes, the lupines rejoined me, their tongues hanging with exertion.

  "They won't see their horses again anytime soon," Kipp said, laughing. "We didn't scare them, just kind of trotted them along."

  Fortunately, we ran into no more highwaymen, but we did warn those who we passed of the men we had left behind. I planned on surrendering the confiscated guns to the law or military, whichever I encountered first upon our arrival in Rome.

  Twilight was falling; the wall of the western horizon was a curtain of dove gray shot through with brilliant tongues of fiery red and muted orange. The horse was tired but held his head a little higher; he could smell wood smoke, as could I. We climbed a small hill and over the rise we saw the outline of a sizeable town, which had to be Rome. We'd made it despite all odds. Raising my head to the sky, I gave silent thanks and set my resolve. Now we must find Peter.

  The road on which we approached the town seemed to be the main thoroughfare, because with no preamble, we found ourselves moving past busy store fronts, speakeasies that were just beginning to recruit evening business, as well as people hurrying home from a day of labor. As we passed an obvious saloon, the tinny sound of a poorly played piano assaulted my ears. Kipp leaned forward and licked my face.

  "Why'd you do that?" I asked.

  "Just because I love you."

  "Back at you, my lad," I replied, smiling.

  I pulled up my horse and called out to a man who was walking in front of what seemed to be a general merchandise store. He paused, and I inquired about a stable where I could rest my weary and very deserving horse. After he pointed the way, I asked about the military encampment, and he told me that a company of infantry were located on the south end of town in a place called Beauchamp's Meadow.

  "How many of those can there be?" Kipp asked humorously.

  I almost drove the horse on out to the camp but hated to push him any farther when we could easily walk. Following the directions given to me, we stumbled upon the stable nestled between two narrow store fronts. A lantern illuminated the entrance, its flickering light casting shadows along the raw split wood framing; the smell of pine sap from the relatively freshly cut boards—the odor sharp and elemental—filled the evening air. I hopped down, followed by Kipp and Elani, who both appreciated a good stretch, and went inside. An old man wearing stained dungarees and a shapeless work coat left a stall, pitchfork in hand, to greet me. Narrowing his eyes, he gazed at me; clearly he didn't have many women to approach him as did I. His beard, which fanned out across his chest, was gray, and liberally stained with tobacco juice, which made two darkened trails on either side of his mouth.

  "Ma'am," he said, tilting his head in greeting.

  "I've had a long journey from Catoosa and need to stable my horse," I remarked. "I have goods in my buggy that need to be secured, and I will pay well to make sure nothing is taken from me."

  The old man cleared his throat and widened his eyes. He really wasn't offended but puffed out his chest and acted injured by my suggestion anything would disappear while in his care. The stable was well kept even though it reeked of ripe manure, but it was, after all, a horse hotel so some rich bouquet was to be expected. After he finished acting put off by my directness, he led the tired horse inside. The horse recognized a stopping place in the journey and almost hurried into a stall as soon as he was free of the harness. The stable man backed up my buggy against a far wall. Beckoning to him, I reached under the seat and showed him the shotgun and two pistols.

  "I was given the shotgun by a well-meaning friend when I left Catoosa," I said. "The pistols were taken from two men who acted as highwaymen and tried to rob me."

  The old man leaned up against the wheel of the buggy and stared at me. Reaching forward, he took one of the pistols and casually inspected it.

  "You little bit of a gal disarmed two men?" he asked. His lips trembled as he tried not to laugh.

  "Yes, with a little help from my friends," I replied, smiling. With a gesture of my hands, I included Kipp and Elani. "You may have the pistols, if you want them," I added. "I may need the shotgun but am not certain yet." There was no harm in sweetening the deal with this man, who nodded in satisfaction at the unexpected bonus.

  After leaving the stable, we continued to move towards the south end of town. Many people were hurrying to get home, and I found it was easier to walk along the margin of the main road since the boarded sidewalks were crowded. Passing a dining hall, the fragrance of fresh baked bread almost knocked me to my knees. Looking down, I couldn't help but notice Kipp was salivating.

  "It smells good, but I'm fine," he assured me. The lupines had eaten earlier that day, and I wasn't hungry.

  Outside of the last halo of light cast by a swinging lantern suspended from a wooden post, the thoughts of many men in close quarters came to me. Symbionts didn't, as a rule, need a lot of direction since we could follow the scattered trails of human thought. From the ambient light from the town as well as the stars above–the clouds seemed to have finally broken for good–I could see the outlines of countless tents strung up in neat rows across a cleared field and stretching up a far hillock. The smell of pork frying in seasoned skillets and coffee simmering over hot fires filled the air, along with the sounds of soft laughter. There were pockets of men clustered, raising their voice in song, and the homesick strains of "Lorena", a song familiar to me, were audible. Somebody was playing a fiddle and doing so with remarkable skill.

  "It's profound, somehow," Elani said. She walked at my left side, her dense coat brushing up against my rustling skirt; I'm not certain who drew more comfort from the closeness: Elani or me? "Many of these so-called men are just boys and have no idea what is ahead. Some are afraid but cover it with boastful talk." She looked up at me, her dark eyes filled with a soulful expression. "Many of them will never go home again."

  "This is what war is and what war does," I said. "Even wars fought for a valid cause are filled with the painful after effects."

  A sentry noted our approach and stepped forward. He relaxed at seeing a woman and the grip on his rifle loosened somewhat. The gun, I noted, was an old musket style that was probably used for hunting game back home. This rough infantry was composed of men in mismatched clothing who brought their own goods from home knowing nothing of significance would be available for them. The man–no, boy–looked down at Kipp, who smiled back in what Kipp hoped to be a friendly, doggy manner. He waved his plumed tail for good advantage.

  "May I help you, ma'am?" the boy asked, his tone and attitude polite. After a nano second, he tipped the end of his gray kepi. At least someone had distributed the cap of the day since the fellow was otherwise dressed in patched dungarees and a faded, flannel shirt that had seen too much work under a hot sun.

  "I need to see whoever is in command," I replied, trying to sound very assertive. My take on the lad was that he was dutiful but not certain enough of himself to confront an aggressive female. I presented him with an anachronism that boggled his mind.

  "And why would you need to see Colonel Duncan?" he asked.

  "It is a personal matter," I replied, staring him down. Kipp was chomping at the bit and wanted to plant a suggestion in the back of the boy's brain, but I knew the youngster would eventually submit to my strength of will. After a few seconds, he turned, beckoning to me to follow him.

  We wove past several tents that were illuminated from the inside by lanterns; the stretched white cloth almost glowed in the semi-darkness and formed little soft pops of light in even rows. As I walked, the men's heads turned to watch me, but they were honestly more amazed by Kipp and Elani, who followed me like tugboats escorting a barge. After a few minutes we arrived at a lar
ger tent, one that had a long flap extended out under which several wooden chairs were clustered. Five men were seated there, all of whom stood as I approached.

  "Colonel Duncan," the boy said with a tip of his hat, "This young lady needs to speak with you."

  The colonel, a man of perhaps forty, was tall, well built with a strong face marred by a terrible scar than ran from his left temple down across his cheek, marring the symmetry of his lips and ending on the tip of his chin. It had only been providence and his reflexes that saved him from losing his left eye, too.

  "He got that in Mexico, fighting in another war," Kipp said. He was obviously busy canvassing the man's thoughts and memories.

  "I am Samantha Keaton," I began, nodding as Duncan pressed his heels together and gave a little bow from the waist. The men, shifting about in discomfort since they weren't sure what to do with me, resumed their seats after a chair had been offered to me. "My brother, Peter, was abducted by a group of Union soldiers who stole the General from Big Shanty," I said, widening my eyes for effect. It was clear the word had spread by telegraph, and the men knew of the train abduction. "He was trying to retrieve our grandfather's gold watch which had been left on the train and ended up being taken against his will." I paused and smiled at the other men, hoping they would feel sympathy for me and my plight. "I have it on good authority that the Union men dropped him off in Catoosa, and a group of your soldiers, thinking he was an enemy, brought him here." I concluded my story triumphantly.

  A porter arrived with a pot of fresh coffee, and one of the men, a fresh faced lieutenant, offered me a hot cup of brew. It wasn't quite like having it in the cozy confines of the library with Fitzhugh, but coffee was coffee and I accepted with gratitude. Maybe the caffeine stimulant awakened my lazy telepathy, because I immediately became aware of something else: someone in the camp had Peter's watch because a wave of guilt wafted past me like the stench off of a stagnant pool of black water. I glanced at Kipp, who nodded his head in agreement. Colonel Duncan resumed his place and sat forward in his chair as he listened to my story. I noticed, as he wrinkled his forehead in concentration, the scarred part of his face puckered even more, distorting what once had been very nice, balanced features. He looked down at the lupines and smiled.