One of the other men limped over to the door. His one foot was wrapped with a soiled cloth stained with blood, pain written all over his face, but he walked up to his comrade and asked if they would be staying there for the night. With a nod the taller of the two said nothing more, but his eyes focused on the soldier’s foot.
Simultaneous thoughts ran through the misplaced couple’s minds. They would be staying there in a small cold cabin all night with strange-looking soldiers they didn’t know. But this was their only hope, so they would have to put up with whatever stood before them on the cold rainy night ahead in a place they didn’t choose to be.
Frightened at the mere thought, Beth held onto Carl’s arm as they went back to the cot and sat down. She looked over at the window. The rain splashed in, soaking the floor below, there didn’t seem to be any letup.
She leaned over to speak softly into Carl’s ear, “These guys are talking about Indians who scalp people and a deadly war with the British. We both know about it from our classes in school. This is crazy, I can’t believe this whole thing…I’m scared to death.”
“Take it easy. It looks like we’ll be all right with these guys. The Revolutionary War was one of my favorite subjects. You know how many books I have on it. And, yes, this is pretty crazy all right, but here we are, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
The shorter one of the three wet and dirty soldiers walked up to them with something in his hand. He held it out to them. “Here. It’s not much, but it will help.” He handed them what appeared to be some dried meat. One could call it jerky, but it looked rather grey in color and thick in structure.
Knowing how scarce food might be, Carl thanked him and took it from him.
It was tough to break in half, but with extreme effort he managed. He and Beth shared it by gnawing at it with teeth hardly penetrating the tough thick smelly piece of what they called meat. Actually it didn’t taste too bad. Carl snickered a little while he watched Beth try to bite into it and finally chewed off a piece that would require a great deal of chewing for some time.
She looked up at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing really…just you and that meat,” he said with somewhat of a giggle.
“You amaze me, Carl—here we are in some kind of time thing with three men who could decide at any time to kill us, and you’re laughing.” She shook her head and swallowed the piece of meat she chewed with a loud gulp.
“I know, but I trust these guys. It just struck me as funny as I watched you with this wonderful food just given to us.” He put his arm around her. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll go with these guys to the fort where we will hopefully get help there. At least we’ll be safe.”
A short time later, the storm diminished some, and the thunder and lightning stopped. Still, it was getting late in the day. Travel was not advised. The soldiers informed the two on the cot they would all spend the night right there in the open cabin. The taller one, obviously the leader, suggested they look for wood for a fire and sent the other two out to gather some.
Clouds still darkened the skies as the men left the cabin to find what they could for a fire to warm them. The chill in the air with open windows brought the worry of a cold night.
Carl approached the soldier who stood at the door watching his men leave. He stroked the handle of the long sword hanging at his side while he took his hat off with the other hand. With the back of his hand he wiped his brow on the cuff of his coat. His wheat colored hair hung down long, all the way to his shoulders and dripped with rain which soaked his hat. He shook the hat to one side to release what was left of the unwanted moisture.
As he looked back at the pathetic looking couple he spoke in a loud tone: “I hope you don’t think we can help you get back to wherever it is you came from. There is no passage to the future. At least not any I know of.” The bit of sarcasm in his voice gave Carl a sharp turn of his head.
“I know you don’t believe us, but it happens to be true. We are from another time—a time in the future. Have you ever heard of the year 2012?” He stood up, but before the man could respond he added: “Well, that’s the year we are from, and you can pass it off as much as you want, but it’s the truth.” He walked right up to the soldier. “I suppose you think I’m crazy.”
The tired man smiled as he held out his hand. “Don’t take offense. I know how it is with the war and all. We all have problems with it. I myself sometimes think I’m not really here—that it will all go away somehow.” Carl shook his hand but with reluctance. “By the way, what is your name? I’m Charles, the commanding officer of the twelve men in my platoon.” He stepped back away from Carl to study him while he waited for a reply.
“I’m Carl, and my wife is Elizabeth.”
Charles smiled. “When my men get back, we can have a fire to warm her. She looks cold, and she’s wet. Come help me put some boards up on the window to shut out the weather.”
They took the position of two men working together as though they knew one another because they had a common cause in mind. Along the wall by the window stood a large flat piece of wood just the right size to cover the entire opening. With a two inch ledge at the bottom of the squared out space, the panel of wood would set there just right.
Carl helped him lift it up on the ledge of the window. It was obvious the dirty wood panel had been used for the same purpose before. They needed something to hold it in place, so Carl offered to go outside and find a long branch. There were plenty of them around. It would be just the thing to prop up against the panel.
Beth sat on the cot, shivering as she wrapped her arms around her in an attempt to generate some warmth. Her eyes kept a keen watch on this Charles person as he held the panel up to the window and waited for Carl to return. The sound of the lingering sprinkle of rain outside gave her cause to worry about her husband, but she said nothing. When he appeared at the door with a long sturdy branch the size of a limb off one of the more mature trees, she let out a sigh of relief.
The men went right to work to secure the open window frame and block out, not only the rain, but the cold as well. The conversation between them was delicately cordial with nothing more said about where Carl came from. Instead they talked about the weather, the fort, and what to expect during the long night ahead.
Just as they finished the task at hand, the other two soldiers, looking quite haggard, came up to the doorway with arms full of wood. They placed the wood on the floor in front of the open stone fireplace and then reached in their pockets to withdraw some kind of roots.
Over the shorter man’s shoulder hung an animal-skin bag full of something. He gently removed it from his shoulder to offer it to the lost couple they would occupy the cabin with.
Water inside the bag moved around, sloshing from side to side, spilling a few drops to the floor.
“Here, drink. We gathered water in this bag from the roof. We hung it at the corner of the cabin when we left so it would fill. We also found some yams.” He held out one of the long roots he had taken from his pocket. “We can cook them as soon as we have a fire.”
The three soldiers appeared to be accustomed to what they were doing as though this was a way of life for them. But, then again, it was. Even with the distinct differences between the two groups, they worked in harmony at their situation without a problem.
The soldiers took charge at the command of Charles who instructed them to build the fire while he took a knife from his waistband to trim the yams to get them ready to cook. “These roots are very good to eat, and they will supply you with energy.”
Carl remembered seeing something out on the porch. He was sure it was a door and went out to get it. The steady downpour of rain was not as threatening as earlier but still coming down. He retrieved the partially broken door and dragged it inside. Enough of it was left to place in the door frame where it obviously had been at one time. He hoped it would keep out the cold and rain during the night. Charles helped him put it in and then st
uck a wedge of wood he found on the floor to hold it in place. All except for a panel missing at the bottom of it seemed rather secure.
The fire took off, and heat began to generate throughout the room of the cabin. As the darkened skies outside hid the light of day, they now only had the glow of the fire for light. The orange glow traveled to the walls of the early constructed dwelling, but being all made of logs, it had a thick wall to insulate it from the outside. The fire’s warmth, quickly felt, was welcomed with delight.
Charles stuck the yams on a stick and held them over the fire until they looked almost like charcoal. As he withdrew them, he offered some to the lost couple.
When you’re hungry, anything tastes good, so they took the funny-looking roots, split them open and ate, whole-heartedly astonished they were not bad.
Eventually other needs presented themselves, such as a nature’s call. With no bathroom facilities in the cabin Carl had to escort Beth out to the back of the cabin where there were no windows or anyone around. A makeshift outhouse sat several feet from the cabin without a door and some nasty-looking seats, or holes carved out two in a row. “How disgusting,” she said, as she entered the humble makings of a bathroom, while Carl stood outside in front of the opening.
When they returned, they sat with Charles on the floor by the fire, talking about the war and the fort they would head for in the morning. Carl was full of questions.
“What about the Indians? They must be close by; we saw an Indian girl not far from here.” The fire glowed like an orange gleam of light as they sat in conversation of what to expect.
“There are Indians around here, but not as many of the bad ones as we had a few months ago. Not since the big battle in August. We had the help of an Indian along with his wife and son. Still, there are a few, not so nice, who hang out in these parts now and then, so we watch out for them. You can’t be too careful in this war. They can sneak up on you when you don’t know they’re there. They are very sneaky, so you won’t hear them.”
“Is it safe at the fort?” Carl asked.
“Pretty much so, but you may want to be led to one of the farms where other civilians live and have them help you. You should talk to the captain when we get there.”
“This is amazing—I read about all of this some years ago. I’ve been a Revolutionary War buff ever since and now here I am right in it.” Carl gazed into the fire with wide but tired eyes.
The late night closed in on them, and sleep was more than welcomed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The fire had died out in the huge stone fireplace. Cool morning air crept in from the missing panel on the door. Carl sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked over at Beth, who brought her head up from the rolled blanket under her. The darkened cabin gleamed with a small beam of light from the missing panel. She sat up quickly while Carl stood, both looking around an empty cabin, stunned to find the soldiers had gone.
“Where are those men?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe outside. I’ll go take a look.”
Beth tugged her jacket up around her neck as she waited for her husband to return. The stream of morning light coming in from the partially open door flowed across the room like a spotlight traveling to find its destination. She reached in the backpack for a pair of gloves and put them on.
As Carl entered he set the door to one side to allow more light to filter in. His face wore signs of discomfort with his brows knit tightly together. His eyes narrowed. He looked at her with concern. “They’re not out there.”
“You mean, they’ve gone—they left us alone?” She rose from the cot and came across the room to him. “Why would they just up and leave like that? What about us? I thought they were going to help us.” She came up close to him and he put his arm around her. “I thought they were going to take us to some fort where we could get help out of here.”
“I don’t know why they went, but we can’t stay here. They said the fort was nearby, so we will have to go on alone and find it. There is no other choice,” he told her as he held her close.
“From what I heard Charles tell you, it sounded like the fort is west of here.” She kept pointing to what she thought was west.
“I think you’re right. Let’s get our stuff and start out. I want you to stay close to me at all times.” He kissed her, and then they gathered up the few things they had and put them all in the backpack. Once he had secured it on his back, they moved outside.
It was still wet from the rain the night before. They looked for paths with less mud and water in an effort to stay dry—as dry as they could. Nothing could take away the cold dampness that penetrated right down to the bone.
Carl stopped after a half hour of walking and blew on his hands to warm them. There had been no sign of the fort, so there was no other choice but to keep going. While they tried to stay on a path to the west the forest grew thicker, making it harder to travel, but they continued. In the midst of all the dying foliage, they found direction difficult. Fallen leaves hindered their way as well, but the need to find cover and help pushed them on.
After putting some yards behind them, they finally came to a clearing where once again they found large boulders. Some were flat, standing only a few feet up from the ground—a nice place to sit awhile. What sunlight peeked out from the rolling clouds across the sky offered little warmth, not enough to take the penetrating chill out of the air. They sat in rest for little more than five minutes before resuming their search for the fort.
One area nearby looked like it had been walked through recently, so they followed the path. It headed in the direction they thought was west. Suddenly they witnessed what appeared to be a buzzard circling over head. Knowing that kind of bird usually searched out something dead, Carl assumed there would be a carcass ahead.
“Most likely a kill of a small animal by one of those hawks that left part of it behind,” he told her as he held her hand and took the lead. “I hope we are going in the right direction.” No sooner had he gotten the words out of his mouth, when he stopped dead in his tracks and held Beth from coming up along side of him. “Hold it!” He stepped back, pressing his hand on her chest. “Wait here.”
She tried to peer over his shoulder, but she could not see what it was that startled him. She ducked down—he went forward.
In a few seconds, he came back to her with his hand over his mouth, gagging. She rushed past him as he bent over to throw up. He waved for her to stop, but she kept on going.
The sound of her gasp echoed through the woods like the soft cry of a wounded animal. Her eyes took in a sight she thought she’d never see. Blood soaked the ground where the three bodies of the soldiers lay, their faces covered in red, their heads soaked in it. All three had been killed and scalped.
Her heart took a leap, pounding hard against her chest as she tried to catch her breath. It was a struggle to move away from there as her whole body froze with fear. The stench was overwhelming, sickening. Her legs felt weak, wobbly, but she managed to get back to Carl. Her face had become pale; her hands shook as she reached for him.
“Oh, my gosh!” she muttered while she sunk her head into his chest. Carl hugged her firmly. She began to sob. “They’re all dead—killed like animals—it’s awful.” The only thing he could think to do was to get her away from there as quickly as he could, never giving a thought of searching the bodies for weapons. The sight of it, the nauseating smell was enough for him to want to throw up.
He stroked her hair as he tried to comfort her. He also wore a pale look, stern with worry, tight with anguish. He had to get out of there.
Choking the words out of his mouth, he said: “They must have been on their way to the fort. This has to be the way.” He held her out from him and looked deep into her tear-filled eyes. “Come on, we have to keep moving.”
With his help, she went along with him down what they thought was the trail the men had been taking. His eyes darted from one side of them to the other, watching fearfully for any movem
ent.
They traveled so far both felt the pain of their feet and the cramping of their legs. The sun had moved further west across the sky to let them know the day was progressing, and they still had not found the fort. Not even another clearing or a cave, no sight of a structure to take cover for the night if it became necessary. What if there was another storm? What if they had to stay out in the wild? Would they encounter the renegade Indians who loved to take your scalp and leave your body for the buzzards? These concerns plagued him more than they did Beth, but she looked scared to the point of sheer hysteria. She also kept a watchful eye in all directions for fear of something jumping out at them or crawling up her leg to bite her on the neck.
They made their way through a thick part of the forest until it began to thin. Approaching a clearing, they heard what sounded like people talking. They moved slowly to the bushes at the edge of the clearing. The first person to catch their eye was an Indian woman, dressed very much like the little girl they had seen picking berries.
Carl pulled Beth back to hide behind a large bush. He wasn’t about to take any chances. Sure, they were told about the good Indians, but could this be one of them, or were they walking into a tribe of the other kind? How could they tell?
“Stay down,” he told her. “I’m going to sneak in there to see what this is. It might be the fort we were told about, but I have to be sure. If I don’t come back in five minutes you go back the way we came and find the cabin. Now stay put.” His voice was soft. “I think this is it. I see the stars and stripes flying on a high pole out there, but I want a closer look.”
“Wait,” she cautioned. “How do I know when five minutes is up?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know; just guess.”
He kept to the line of bushes along the tree line and stayed low, trying to be very quiet. Once he disappeared from sight, Beth stayed crouched down, looking into the cleared area with its small tents and a few log buildings. She noticed horses tied to a hitching rail in front of the largest structure. “This has to be the fort,” she whispered as she huddled down behind a bush that almost covered her entire body. Her eyes held fast on the scene just yards in front of her.
Outside That Door Page 8