“No. I won’t do it,” Jenny said.
“I don’t want to be in there with her, either,” Sarah said.
“Look ladies, do you want to come along or not?” Otis said.
“But why do we have to hide?” Sarah asked.
Mike felt the need to defuse the situation. “We wouldn’t be able to explain to the authorities why two women are traveling on a business trip.”
“Yeah, lady, and why you’re not home taking care of the household chores,” Otis interjected. “Get them on board. We leave in two minutes.” Otis snarled and spit black juice on the ground.
“Come on, Jenny, take one for the team,” Mike said.
Jenny was outraged. “Take one for the team!”
“Oh, I see. It’s okay for the black people, but not you. Is that it?”
Jenny was mortified by that statement and started to climb aboard. “Okay, I’ll do it, but you are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers.”
“Thank you,” Mike said.
Sarah climbed into the wagon, which also had a false bottom, and lay on the hard-wood floor next to Jenny. She turned away from Jenny and smiled up at Mike. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Mike said, then started loading the lumber.
When they were done loading, Mike and Ray jumped up in the front seat. Mike took the reins of the second wagon containing Sarah and Jenny.
“Do you know how to drive a wagon?” Ray asked Mike.
Mike smiled. “Can’t be that hard.”
Preacher and Otis took the lead wagon containing George, Anita, and Valerie. Otis pulled a plug of tobacco from his pocket, bit off a piece and shoved it back between his gums with his finger, then called back to Mike and Ray. “We’ll stay off the main roads and follow the smuggling routes north.”
“We’re following you,” Mike yelled.
“Let’s go,” Otis said to the horses. He gave them a little slap with the reins and they began their journey north. On the first rotation of the wagon wheel there was a bump in the road and a yelp was heard. Then the pounding began.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Thursday, June 11, 1863
Sarah and Jenny lay face to face in the bottom of the wagon, entombed, with lumber stacked over them. Sarah felt every bump in the road, and Jenny gasped in pain at each one. The odor coming off the wood floor was rotten, making it hard to breathe. Claustrophobia began to set in.
“Wonder what they hauled on their last run?” Jenny asked.
Sarah was holding her nose. “Must have been manure.”
“Stop kicking me,” Jenny said.
“I’m not,” Sarah said.
“Then what’s hitting my leg?” Jenny said.
“Are you going to complain the whole way?”
“I might.”
Sarah and Jenny bounced around in the bottom of the wagon mile after mile. Jenny constantly banged on the wagon for it to stop.
***
Otis pulled over and stopped the wagon at first light. Mike pulled in behind him.
“What’s up?” Mike asked.
“Horses need a rest,” Otis said.
Otis and Preacher got down from the wagon’s front seat and started to stretch.
“Come on,” Mike told Ray. They jumped to the ground and walked over to Otis.
“How long you going to stop?” Mike asked.
Otis said, “Ten minutes, maybe.”
“Then we can let the others out to stretch also?” Mike said.
“Don’t have time for that,” Otis said.
“I see a barn up ahead, why don’t we stop there? I need to cushion the ride for the women, anyway.”
“With what?” Otis asked.
“Straw,” Mike said.
“Like I said, we don’t have time,” Otis said.
“Make time,” Mike said. He tapped Ray on the arm. ”Let’s go.”
Mike and Ray climbed aboard the wagon. “Gitty-up,” Mike called to the horses. The wagon jerked and Mike went around Otis’s wagon. He went about a half-mile up the road toward the barn. He pulled onto a cut-out lane used for loading and unloading farm wagons. It led to the front of the barn. The farmhouse was farther up the lane, on a hillside behind the barn. Mike stopped the wagon.
“Let me out! Get me out of here!” Jenny shouted.
“Okay, okay, keep your voice down,” Mike said.
A few minutes later, Otis pulled his wagon behind Mike’s.
Mike was already in the process of removing the lumber when Otis walked over.
Jenny was first out of the wagon. “Need to breathe.”
Sarah climbed out next. The fresh air was pleasing.
“If I have to spend another minute with her...” Sarah took a deep breath. “Lying on those boards is hard enough. Lying there with her is misery.”
“What are you people doing?” Otis snarled.
“What’s it look like—we’re taking a break,” Mike said.
Otis look at his pocket watch. “It’s nearly five o’clock. What if the authorities ride up?”
“I don’t see any authorities, do you?” Mike said.
Otis turned to Preacher. “Get your people straight, or this ends right here.”
“Oh, dear, you need to get back in the wagon,” Preacher begged.
“Ray, come with me,” Mike said.
Mike walked up to the barn and pulled open the door, and he and Ray went inside. A few minutes later, Mike emerged with two bales of straw, one in each hand. Ray was right behind him, carrying a single bale with both hands.
“Get George and his family out of that wagon,” Mike ordered.
Otis was incensed. “Now you want to unload?”
“That’s right. We’re going to use this straw as a cushion. And one more thing,” Mike said.
“What?” Otis said.
“Get that box of food out of your wagon. It’s time for breakfast.”
“For Christ sakes,” Otis moaned, but he went to get the box of food from his wagon.
When Otis got back, Mike and Ray had unloaded the wagon, and George and his family got out to stretch their bones and get something to eat.
“Hurry it up, will you? Otis said. “I’ll feed the horses.”
After eating, Mike and Ray placed straw on the floors of both wagons.
Sarah came from the barn, holding two horse blankets. She placed the blankets over the straw. “There, much better.”
“Never heard so much discontent and complaining in my life,” Otis said.
“Please, now are you ready?” Preacher asked.
George and his family climbed back into the front wagon while Sarah and Jenny got back in theirs. Mike and Ray started loading the lumber. Otis and Preacher loaded the front wagon. When they were finished, Preacher walked up to the barn and left a few dollars of Confederate script in a metal can and then climbed aboard the wagon and took a seat.
Otis yelled, “Gitty-up,” to the team of horses and started again.
They bounced all day along the dirt roads of the back country, but this time the ride was tolerable for Sarah and Jenny.
“I’m hungry,” Jenny said.
Sarah banged on the wagon. “We’re hungry back here.”
They stopped to eat some crackers while the horses rested and grazed along the road. They drank from their canteens and got back in the wagons. When darkness fell, Mike wanted to stop the wagon.
“It’s dark now. How ‘bout letting the passengers ride topside with us at night?” Mike shouted up to Otis.
“I’ll think on it,” Otis said.
Mike waited until about ten and pulled over the wagon. “We’re letting them out—now.”
Otis pulled over. “Stubborn bastards.”
George and his family got out to stretch and grab something to eat.
“And if someone comes along?” Otis asked.
“They can hide in the woods,” Mike said.
“Thank you, mister,” George said to Mike.
“For what?”
>
“Your kindness.”
After Sarah and Jenny got some much-needed stretching they all got back into the wagons.
They made their way north. During the day George and his family, along with Sarah and Jenny, hid in the wagon bottoms. At night they rode topside, getting much-needed air.
Otis pulled the wagons over about every ten miles or so, allowing the horses to rest and feed. After the passengers got something to eat and drink, they got back in the wagons and the party went on its way.
By the fourth day they crossed the Tugaloo River into South Carolina. Otis stopped when he came to the community of Greenville. They bought supplies and continued on their way.
After another four days, they made it to North Carolina, where they drove into swamps with names like Allen’s Creek, Scrub Swamp, and Catchall’s Swamp. They drove among the dogwood, gum, and beech trees. They were following a dirt road north when Otis took a turn.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Thursday, June 18, 1863
To counter the Confederate invasion of the North, Union Major General Joseph Hooker marched his 80,000-man Army of the Potomac north into Carroll County, Maryland. He had men on recon both for the whereabouts of the Army of Northern Virginia and to find good ground to make a stand between them and Washington. Unbeknownst to Hooker, the Confederate army was spread out across Western Maryland and headed for the Mason/Dixon line.
***
It was the wee hours of the morning when Otis left the main road and turned down a narrow path. He went into Catchall’s Swamp, near Gastonia, North Carolina.
“Where you going?” Mike shouted.
“Shortcut,” Otis hollered back.
“Shortcut?” Mike mumbled.
After about a half-mile, Mike noticed two men about 100 yards ahead with weapons at the ready.
Otis drove right up to them and stopped. They pointed their rifles at Otis.
“Get down from there,” a filthy old man ordered.
“Bushwhackers,” Mike said, reining in the horses.
“End of the line,” an equally grimy younger man said.
Mike pulled the horses behind Otis’s wagon and watched as Otis got down and walked over to the two men. It looked like they were conducting business. The older man, who seemed like the boss, handed Otis a package.
Mike got down from the wagon and walked over to see what was going on.
“Where you going?” Ray said. When he got no response he shook his head, got down, and followed.
“Who’s this?” Mike asked Otis.
“Slave hunters,” Otis said.
“Did you know about this?” Mike asked.
“Sure. I set it up.” A smile returned to Otis face as he pointed a pistol at Mike’s head.
“What took ya so long?” the older man asked Otis.
“With this bunch, I’m lucky to get here at all,” Otis replied. Then he walked Mike and Ray back to the wagons with his pistol poking at Mike’s back.
Preacher was appalled. “What are you doing?”
“What’s it look like?” the older man said. “You killed my partners back there in Atlanta. Did you think you could get away that easy? Do you realize how much money there is to be make capturing and returning runaways?”
“I don’t know, and I really don’t want to know. This is no way to earn your living,” Preacher said.
“What will you do now, take them back?” Mike asked.
“They’ll either be sold or returned. We’ll have to figure out which pays more,” the older man said. “Unload and get them out of the wagon.”
After Mike and Ray unloaded the lumber, George and his family got out of the first wagon.
“What’s going on, Preacher?” George asked.
“Get over here,” the older man said.
There was a gray paddy wagon with high side windows with bars and small, bared window in the back door. George walked over to where the man pointed.
“Get in there,” the younger man said.
After Mike and Ray unloaded the lumber from their wagon, they helped Sarah and Jenny out of the second wagon. The slave hunters’ eyes lit up when they saw the two women throw their legs over the wagon to get out.
Sarah moved to Mike’s side.
“They want the slaves,” Mike told her.
“I heard,” Sarah said.
“Don’t let them take them,” Jenny protested.
The two slave hunters conversed with Otis.
“That’s not the deal,” Otis argued.
The boss-man handed Otis a few Confederate notes. “Deals change,” he said with a grin that revealed rotten black teeth.
Otis turned to Mike, pointing his pistol.
“What’s that all about?” Mike asked.
“They want the women too,” Otis said.
Mike was aghast. “What—why?”
“We can sell them in Mob Town. Those two will make good whores,” the boss-man said with a grin, and spit black juice onto the ground.
“In your dreams, buster,” Jenny said. “Why do I feel like flypaper for freaks?”
“Easy, Jenny,” Mike said.
“This is pitiful. My first trip, and this happens. You’re nothing more than scoundrels,” Preacher told them.
The boss-man leaned to his grimy apprentice. “Get the ladies in the wagon along with the slaves.” Then he looked at Otis. “You take the gentlemen for a little walk.”
Preacher complied with Otis, but Mike and Ray stood their ground. Otis walked over to Mike, pointed the gun at Ray, and said, “Get into them there swamps, or I’ll put a bullet in your friend’s head right here.”
Mike started toward the swamp.
“Stop! We’re not going anywhere,” Sarah insisted.
“It’ll be okay, Sarah,” Mike said, then continued into the swamp.
When Mike and the others were gone, the grimy young man grabbed Sarah’s arm. “Let’s go.”
Sarah punched him in his face and knocked him on the ground. The man was stunned, holding his jaw. Trembling, Sarah began to whisper a spell, but it didn’t seem to be working.
Jenny stood there waiting for something, anything, to happen, but nothing did. “What I thought.”
Frustrated, Sarah looked up to see where the two men were and met the butt of the boss-man’s rifle with her face, knocking her out. Jenny yelped in shock, but caught Sarah in her arms, then lay her on the ground.
***
Mike, Ray, and Preacher were led at gunpoint. Otis took them farther and farther into the swamp. They came to the edge of the water, and Mike stopped. It appeared to be a lake.
“Keep walking,” Otis ordered.
“Into the water?” Mike asked.
“That’s right. Keep moving.”
“No,” Mike told him, feeling the need to get back to Sarah. Then Mike heard Jenny’s yelp from back on the road.
***
The grimy young man grabbed Sarah’s arms and started to drag her.
“Stop!” Jenny yelled. She got up and helped the man carry Sarah to the wagon, where George and his family were already sitting. Jenny climbed into the gray box and lay Sarah’s head in her lap. Sarah was still unconscious.
“How she doing?” George asked.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. We need to keep her warm, she may have a concussion.”
“You know, missy, if they take us back, we’ll be killed for sure,” George said.
“We won’t let that happen,” Jenny said, trying to calm him down while taking care of Sarah. The driver’s whip was heard, and the wagon jerked everyone as it moved out.
***
At the water’s edge, Otis grabbed Preacher, who was closest to him, and pushed him into the water. Preacher stumbled and started to sink.
“Quicksand!” Preacher cried.
Mike turned to Otis and knocked the pistol from his hand. While Preacher was sinking, Mike and Otis watched the gun slide across the grass and into the water. It sunk int
o the water and was gone. The two men turned and looked at each other. Mike and Otis bent low, eyeballing each other. They circled like wrestlers with their hands outreached.
Then Mike stopped. The two men watched every move on the other’s face, bracing for the inevitable.
Suddenly, Mike sprang forward and Otis did the same. Otis let out a frantic scream as their shoulders came together with a thud of two bulls. For a moment each bore the strength of the other, then Mike, having an under hold with one arm and the other hooked around Otis’s neck, lifted Otis from his feet and slammed him to the ground, back first. Mike heard the air rush from his lungs.
Ray hurried to get Preacher out of the quicksand.
Otis had hit the ground hard, but the ground was soft due to the water and Otis regained the turf. He came at Mike with his head down low and with all his might he slammed into Mike’s chest and pushed him back against a tree. The impact snapped a small branch.
Mike broke Otis’s awkward grip and regained his foothold. Mike now had Otis against the tree and was pounding away. Otis fell to the ground, exhausted.
“Done fighting?” Mike asked.
“Help!” Ray called out.
Mike saw Ray trying to help Preacher and ran to Ray’s side, but before Mike and Ray could pull Preacher out, Otis got up and knocked them both into the water. Mike landed on Preacher. Preacher went into a panic. While Preacher thrashed his arms, Mike pushed off and reached the edge of the water.
Mike grabbed Otis’s leg. Otis went off balance and Mike pulled him into the quicksand. Ray grabbed Otis’s head and pushed it into the liquid mud. Otis began to panic. Ray then used Otis’s back as leverage and climbed out of the quicksand.
Safely on land, Ray turned to see where Preacher was. Preacher’s face was hyper-extended backwards, gasping for air, but the mud circled his mouth and then flooded in. He disappeared under the mud.
Mike and Ray watched as Otis struggled in his own panic. They witnessed the ghastly sight of him gasping for air as he took his last breath. He had the look of absolute terror as he sank under the murky mud.
Although appalled at what he just saw, Mike also knew time wasn’t on his side. “We have to hurry if we’re going to save Sarah and Jenny.”
Mike and Ray ran back toward the wagons. Mike ran harder than he ever had. When they got to where the wagons should have been, they were gone.
Death Machine Page 7