by D B Bray
Sharks, I hate sharks.
Jack searched his pack and found his compass. He kept scanning the water and saw more fins appear in front of him. The freshwater bull sharks circled his craft, and he could feel them bump the boat as they passed underneath him.
He slid his rifle stock into the water and paddled toward the direction of Liberty Island, the boat rocking side to side. He threw up over the side as the boat swayed, and as he moved his head from the water, a fin touched his nose. Reeling back, he almost fell overboard.
He paddled for what felt like hours in the direction he hoped the island was in. As he paddled, the lightheadedness set in. He swayed with the rhythm of the boat as it inched forward. He stared at his hand as his vision doubled. He groaned and then slumped into the bow of the boat. A fin bumped the front of the bow, splashing water on his face.
I hate sharks, he thought, and then passed out.
Chapter 12
“Jack, hey Jack, can you hear me?” a voice called out on his left.
Jack’s eyelids refused to open, trying to hide him from the pain. He winced and felt the cold metal of the boat against his face. He could feel someone’s hands press along his body. He forced his eyes open and saw Toby nose to nose with him.
“Toby?” he asked his voice barely above a whisper.
“Darn tootin’. Are you okay?” he asked, trying to lift him out of the boat.
He could hear several other voices behind Toby, one the most important amongst them. Lucy stood off to the side with Adam, Billy, Fred, and Charlie. Quill stood a few feet away, assembling a concoction for him.
“Where am I?” Jack asked.
Toby waved his hands in the air. “Your boat floated onto the shore a little while ago an—-.”
“Toby, let him rest for a moment. I need you to bring me a canteen and some food. Can you do that?” Lucy asked.
Toby scampered off. She knelt next to Jack and held his hand. “Adam told me what happened. I’m sorry, Jack, I should never have left Philadelphia with you. Red won’t stop until he has me back,” she said.
Jack clasped her hand in his. “It was worth it,” he croaked.
Quill came over, lifted Jack’s head up, and put a glass of hot broth to his lips. Jack squirmed and tried to pull his head away. It smelled like a wet dog.
“Ah, what is that?” he asked, stifling a gag.
Quill gripped his neck tighter and tilted his head further back. He poured the contents down his throat with a grunt. Jack screamed in pain as the broth rolled down his throat, chunks of some type of food nearly choking him.
“It’s a mix of boiled onions, garlic, and apple cider vinegar. I call it Spider Fire; you’ll feel like you have eight legs. You’ll need to keep drinking it over the next couple of days while you heal up. You have hypothermia and what looks like a bullet wound,” he said, waving over a stretcher.
The group carried him back to the fort. The Statue of Liberty loomed over them as they passed through the gate. Jack lifted his head and watched the children playing games and laughing. He saw a smile cross Quill’s face as they passed by. They carried him into a tent with a fire raging in the center, a hole cut in the top of the canvas. Quill strode to a table and assembled some bandages, forceps, and pliers. He stuck a black metal poker in the fire and walked back over to him.
Jack stared at the poker and then at Quill. He had seen the operation done several times, and the screams of the men who went under the knife still caused him to shudder. His throat ran dry, and he coughed.
“It’ll be alright. Bite down on this. It’ll help,” Quill said, handing him a wooden pin.
Charlie walked up to him and touched his shoulder.
“The Blades owe you. Remember, no fear,” he said, then walked out of the tent with the others.
Jack nodded and laid his head back. He placed the wooden pin in between his teeth and bit down. Lucy stood by his side, arms behind her back.
Jack screamed as Quill opened his wound. Lucy held him down as Quill went to work. Jack could hear Quill humming, the pain searing through his leg and out the tips of his toes. His head slammed back and forth, his strains louder as the minutes ticked by.
He finally passed out from the pain, the wooden pin skidding off the table. Quill removed the bullet and seared the wound shut. He crushed some garlic onto a pad, placed it against the injury, and wrapped it in a bandage.
“Now, we wait. I’ll see to Toby,” Quill said to Lucy as she took a seat by the bed.
Jack woke up several hours later, his leg throbbing. It was dark in the tent, but the North Star was shining through a pinhole in the tent. He saw Lucy leaning back in a chair, her feet propped up on the desk. Her head rested on her chest, rising and falling with her breathing.
His groans and whimpering woke her up. She lowered the legs of the chair to the floor and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She hurried to his side with a glass of water and held his head as he sipped and whimpered.
“I know it hurts,” she said.
“This is the worst pain I’ve ever felt. It feels like my leg is on fire,” he said, a little louder than he intended.
Quill had come in sometime during the night and was at the table grinding something with a mortar and pestle. Jack peered around Lucy and heard the same hymn he was always hummed; Battle Hymn of the Republic.
“I see you’re no worse for wear. I have something for you to help ease the pain,” Quill said.
“Nope, not after that stuff that smelled like a wet dog,” Jack said.
“Either you go willing, or…”
Jack remembered his grip from earlier. “Alright, I’ll try it.”
Quill finished grinding up the powder and poured it onto some honey. “This will help ease your pain,” he said, handing him the spoon.
Jack wolfed it down. “Do I even want to know?” he asked.
“Probably not,” he said, leaving the tent.
The next morning, Jack rose from the table with a loud groan. Lucy helped him to his feet and then helped him sit down at the fire where everyone was seated.
“Lucy, can you bring me my pack?” he asked.
She brought it to the fire and sat by him. He pulled out the note and document, then reread them.
“It tells us where the next piece is, but I’m not sure if we should just stop now and prepare the camp defenses. If Red and his men attack from Battery Park, we should be prepared,” he said.
There was a long silence, and then Lucy spoke.
“Jack, you have risked everything for this Constitution thing. You have helped people and given them hope. If we give up now, we will always wonder what if. I, for one, am going to get this last piece with you and then come back here and live out the rest of my days,” she said.
Quill spoke up. “We of the Statue’s are with you.” He stopped speaking and heard the children laughing outside and smiled. “We now have children playing in relative safety. Everyone here knows you provided that, and I, for one, am grateful to hear the laughter of children. I have spoken to the other elders, and they have offered to protect the Blades. Let’s get that last piece and put it together,” he said.
Oh man, now I’m in for it. Jack thought, scanning the group.
Adam watched the others, then stood up and said, “We will clear the road for you to get out of New York. All we ask in return is that the Statue’s help us free the rest of the slaves in Battery Park. If we free them, we will have an army to protect this place, and to help us free others in the surrounding areas.” Adam bit his lip in thought. “I never told you, Jack, but Jaque was my cousin. We grew up in the slaver camps together and ran away when we had the chance. I would like to think his death will help free others.”
Jack’s mouth dropped open as he processed what Adam told him. After regaining his thoughts, Jack turned to Quill, who was sitting near him.
“Will the Statue’s help us reclaim Battery Park from the slaver’s?” he asked.
Quill laughed. “We hav
e twenty men, old men at that. How can we even begin to help?” he asked.
“We have a total of fifty prepared for a battle. We know where the slaver’s live and if we had help, we could overtake them,” Charlie said, joining the conversation.
Quill held his gaze. “Those are boys and girls, not men and women. They will fall like wheat at the end of a scythe. There are a ton of slavers’ there, too many for us to take without help,” he said.
Lucy stopped oiling the rifle she was working on in her lap and stood up. “I have fixed most of the rifles in this camp. They can be used to help free the others.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Quill, here’s the problem with so-called adults. You worry about what you can’t control, including those of us who you think are kids. We aren’t kids. Most, if not all the people in this camp have been a slave at one time or another. I won’t sit by and hear the screams of pain from across the river. Have you ever been caged like an animal?” she asked.
Quill shook his head. “No.”
“I have, and I lost someone I really liked so far on this journey. He died so Jack, Toby, and I could find this paper. I believe in what Jack is doing, and if I can help free others with him, I will. We don’t need you to take Battery Park from the slavers, but you can help us if you want to,” she said.
Adam whispered in Charlie’s ear. Charlie ran out of the tent and shouted at the top of his lungs. Adam flipped open the tent flap. “I want ya’ll to come out and see this.”
Everyone filed out of the tent and watched the Blades line up, their aluminum bats shining in the sunlight. Charlie slammed his bat into the earth and drew a line. Adam held his bat up and rotated it.
“Blades, form ranks!” he shouted.
Without question, everyone fell into rank and file. Their salutes crisp as Adam approached them. “At ease,” he said.
“This line in the sand is here for those of us who will be leaving to return to Battery Park to end the slave trade. March over the line if you’re going. If not, return to what you were doing and stay with the Statues. Now, march,” he shouted.
The young men and women stepped forward and marched over the line. They stopped on the other side and saluted. The most youthful boy, who was nine, crossed with a smile from ear to ear, his left front tooth missing.
“Questions?” Adam asked Quill.
Quill stared at the eager faces and mumbled, “Oh, goody.”
A week passed as the Blades drilled in mock combat. Quill walked amongst them, assisting where he could. He walked over and observed Charlie fighting three boys at the same time. All three fell into a twisted heap from his bat. He spun around when he heard a golf clap from behind. They stared at one another until Charlie nodded at a wooden stick by Quill’s feet. Quill stared at it for a moment, then picked it up.
“Let’s see how fast you are, old-timer,” Charlie said, taking a practice swing.
Quill smiled and felt the weight of the stick. He held it in front of his face in a salute and sidestepped around Charlie. Charlie strode toward him, watching Quill’s every move. As they circled each other, the other Blades who were training stopped and gathered around.
The two clashed in the middle of the circle, the crowd hearing them grunt in their efforts to win. Charlie stutter-stepped and then swung his stick low, striking Quill behind the knees.
Quill, using the momentum from the blow, rolled forward and swung his stick behind his back, blocking Charlie’s next strike. They attacked back and forth, neither gaining the upper hand. The attack broke off, both of them sweating and breathing hard.
“You know what you’re doing,” Charlie said, between gasps. “I’ll give ya that.”
Quill smiled again, not saying a word, then pressed his attack. He feigned low and swung up, connecting with Charlie’s chin. Charlie stumbled back with a grunt. Quill hooked him behind the ankle and brought him down. After catching his breath, he held his hand out and helped Charlie to his feet.
“Nice work,” Quill said.
“Thanks,” Charlie said, handing Quill a nearby canteen. “You’re quick for an old man.”
Adam walked to the edge of the circle. “I need to see the commanders in Quill’s tent,” he said.
The commanders hurried to the tent and sat down at the makeshift card table. An ominous feeling permeated the room as Jack pulled out the documents. “I’ve been staring at these all week, and I’m still trying to understand what they mean.” He held up the Preamble, and the words floated effortlessly off of his tongue. “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessing of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”
If a pin dropped on the tent floor, it would have made everyone jump. Jack scanned the faces in front of him. Quill glanced at everyone. “So, what’s it mean?”
Jack shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I think if you switch People with Tribes, then I think it’s talking about us, and the slavers.”
Billy, Charlie, and Fred let out a loud groan. “I’ll be damned,” Charlie and Fred muttered at the same time.
Adam held his hand up. Charlie and Fred took a step back without a grumble between them. “I apologize for my commander’s muttering; it won’t happen again, please continue.”
Jack gave Adam a curt nod. “So, I think it’s telling us we need to reform the Tribes. It will be the only way we will survive. Slavery isn’t the only currency.”
Quill nodded his head in agreement. “Alright, Jack, what do you propose?”
“There will be time to better understand these later, but for now, I have to ask a favor from you and Lucy.” He glanced at them across the table. “I need you to bring Toby and the documents back to Fort Camden. Find Jasmine and make sure they’re protected.”
Lucy jumped to her feet in protest. Jack held his hand up. “I know what you’re about to say, Lucy. I would love nothing more than to have your rifle in the coming days, but I don’t trust anyone else to take care of Toby and should the battle not go our way, I can’t stand the idea of Red getting you back,” he said, watching the anger dissipate from her eyes.
Quill cleared his throat. “Jack, I can’t leave my tribe, especially now. Someone else will have to go.”
“I don’t have anyone else who will go. None of the Blades——.”
Billy cut him off. “As much as I hate to admit this, the document is more important than revenge. So, I’ll go with Lucy and make sure your brother is taken care of.”
Jack chewed his bottom lip for a moment. He cleared his throat and said, “Thank you.”
Jack handed the documents and notes to Lucy and held onto her fingertips for a long moment, then continued talking to the others. He opened a large map on the table and pointed to Liberty Island.
“We’re here.” He pointed at Battery Park. “And this is where we’ll come ashore. I want the Statues to help us land along the shoreline so we can attack at different points. We still have the stolen boats, so we’ll take them back with us,” he said.
“How many groups, Jack?” Adam asked.
“They’re your Blades. You tell me how you’re going to attack,” Jack said.
Adam leaned closer to the map and pointed at the points of entry. “We should come ashore here,” he said, pointing to an area hidden by rocks.
“We’ll need five boats, ten to a boat. Half of us come from the north, half from the south. We meet here,” he said, pointing at the auction block.
“I have twenty men to help you,” Quill said, his face turning into a wall of stone. “Don’t throw my men’s lives away. We are but a few.”
“That gives us seventy,” Jack muttered, looking at the map like a grizzled old veteran.
“When should we attack?” Charlie asked.
“Tonight, when everyone’s asleep. We’ll move in the shadows. There a
re plenty of hiding places along the edge of the water. I’ll lead the group coming from the north. Who’s leading the one in from the south?” Adam asked.
“I will,” Quill said.
“Wait a minute——” Jack said.
Quill held his finger up to his lips and shushed him. “You’re the important one, Jack. You need to keep going to the next piece in the puzzle. We’ll handle the slavers. You head north during the fighting,” he said.
Jack’s features darkened as he thought about what Quill said. The journey would be difficult enough with his injury, and if The Blades lost, he would never get out of the city.
“Alright, I’ll go alone,” Jack whispered.
Quill walked over to him and put his hands on Jack’s shoulders. He smiled and said, “You have given me hope, Jack of The Last Tribe. We’ll take Battery Park.”
“Thanks, Quill.”
The group finished their preparations and left the tent to assemble their units. Lucy stayed seated and watched Jack as he ran his fingertips across the tabletop.
“You look nervous,” she said.
“That’s because I am.”
She stood up and walked over to him. “I don’t like you asking me to leave with Toby again. I want to go with you,” she said, inching closer to him.
“Lucy, I know you want to stay. Hell, I want you to stay, but if Red catches you,” he said, his voice trailing off.
“I know,” she said, leaning her head against his.
They kissed until Toby burst into the tent. He giggled for a moment. “Caught ya,” he teased.
Jack picked up a rock and threw it at him. “Get out!”
Toby ran off, the rock hitting him in the back as he escaped the same way he entered.
Lucy shrugged. “What are brothers for?”
Chapter 13
The boatmen shoved the boats off the beachhead, their feet slipping in the muddy slush. As they climbed aboard, one man fell short and splashed into the water with a yelp. One of the younger Blades rolled his eyes and helped him into the boat when he resurfaced.
