by Londyn Skye
Before assigning his duty, Wyatt marched James way down the railroad track to an area that had already been completed the week before. “Gonna have you re-do this ten-foot piece ‘a track that one ‘a these nitwits fucked all to hell,” Wyatt explained to James as he secured the ball and chain apparatus around his ankle. Wyatt stood up and pointed out the repairs needed. “One ‘a these lazy fuckers didn’t put enough nails in these rail ties. It won’t pass inspection like this.” He tossed James a sledgehammer and sat a wooden box of massive nails nearby. “Can you handle it on y’ur own?”
James simply nodded. Wyatt nodded in return and then walked back down the line to mount his horse.
For the few hours thereafter, Wyatt and the other guards all trotted slowly on their horses with their rifles slung over their shoulders. They were spread out evenly, keeping all the prisoners corralled as they worked. Typically, there were eight guards covering the quarter mile stretch of men, but with three guards out for the day, they were pushed to the limits with keeping tabs over everyone … just the way Wyatt wanted.
“Adams, everybody’s breakin’ for lunch in a few minutes,” Wyatt said, glaring down at James from his horse.
James nodded, laid his sledgehammer down, and was about to pick up his ball and chain to walk back toward the other prisoners. But Wyatt suddenly used the barrel of his rifle and poked him in the chest with it to get his attention.
“You ain’t eatin’ lunch today, though,” Wyatt explained, shoving the barrel harder into James’s ribs.
James’s heart immediately began to gallop. He swallowed hard and slowly looked up at Wyatt in confusion.
“I’m gonna talk real fast so you need to listen good, ya’ hear?”
James nodded again.
Wyatt nervously looked over his shoulder first to make sure the other guard was not making his way around the bend of the hill yet. “Run thirty minutes straight west,” he began explaining, motioning his head in that direction. “You’ll run right into a creek. Strip y’urself of every stitch ‘a clothin’ you got on. Ain’t no tellin’ when the dogs’ll be on ya’, but they will eventually. There’s a key to the shackle, a canteen, onions, soap, towels, and food in a satchel tucked away in the fireplace of an old burnt out log cabin. Eat quick and wash y’urself good in the creek. Every inch of ya’. Put your clothes and everything else in the creek and let it float away when y’ur through … except the onions. Keep those with ya’. The dogs’ll smell the onions and lose y’ur scent. Wade across that creek quick as ya’ can. We ain’t had much rain. The waters are low. If you make it across, follow a trail of trees with broken tree limbs danglin’. You’ll see the pattern. Snatch ’em down when ya’ run past. That trail will lead ya’ to what ya’ need.” Wyatt’s eyes then drifted down to James’s shackles.
James then slowly followed the path of Wyatt’s eyes. The whole time he had been working, he did not even realize that one of the links in the chain that led to the heavy ball was broken. It looked as if a sledgehammer had pounded away at it. James would have been even more shocked to learn that it was Wyatt who had taken the time to intentionally damage it that way. He was also the one who had gone through the back-breaking work of removing all the bolts from that hidden area of the train tracks around the bend. James looked back up at Wyatt and saw compassion in his eyes for the first time ever.
“Keep the beard,” Wyatt suggested. “I’ll make sure that y’ur wanted posta’s have ya’ clean shavin’. If you get caught, and you mention my name or any ‘a this, I’ll see to it that you rot in that goddamn dungeon hole until you cease to exist, you unda’stand me?”
James nodded.
“Wait ’til the next guard passes by here, and you run like diarrhea out of a baby’s ass, ya’ hear? Run and run hard. And don’t fuckin’ stop ’til you get to where I just told ya’,” Wyatt demanded.
James looked up at Wyatt with a blended look of disbelief and appreciation. Wyatt nodded, removed the rifle from James’s chest, and calmly rode off on his horse. James then picked up his sledgehammer and got back to work, waiting patiently for the next guard to pass.
“LUNCH TIME!” Wyatt called out after the guard passed James by. He then quickly handed out lunch duties to all the guards to be sure that none of them doubled back to check on James.
Dale was sitting with a group of his buddies as he ate. They all took turns tormenting Ernest, who had been demoted to fixing lunch and cleaning up because of his mangled state. Near the end of the hour lunch break, Dale tossed some garbage on the ground near Ernest’s feet. “Clean that up ’fore I have pretty boy break some more bones in y’ur face,” he joked.
Everyone in the group broke out in laughter after overhearing the insult. The wires in Ernest’s mouth forced him to endure the torment like an aggravated mute. But the comment got a different reaction out of one of the guards. He suddenly began looking around for “pretty boy.” He stopped and looked amongst the scattered bodies relaxing in the shade and suddenly felt his heart rate increase when he did not spot James anywhere. He then prompted his horse to trot over to Wyatt. “Where’s Adams?” the guard asked him.
Shit! Wyatt thought to himself. “He’s usually ova’ in Dale’s group,” he managed to respond calmly.
“I know, but I didn’t see ’em ova’ there.”
“Didn’t ya’ double back to get ’em when I hollered for lunch?” Wyatt asked.
The guard suddenly turned red in the face. “N-no, y-yes. I thought I did.”
“Well, which one is it, ya’ dumb-ass?”
“I-I don’t rememba’.”
“Well, he’s probably still workin’,” Wyatt lied, still managing to remain calm. “If he ain’t, y’ur ass is up shit’s creek! Now go on and check on ’em.”
Five minutes later, the guard returned with sweat drenching his face. He nervously approached Wyatt. “A-Adams is gone, sir,” he said sheepishly.
“The fuck you mean, he’s gone?!” Wyatt yelled.
“L-looks like he h-hammered his w-way outta his ball and chain.”
“You dumb fuck! Round up the otha’ prisoners!”
With those words, the time for Wyatt to play ignorant had officially ended. Had it not been for Dale’s casual conversation, James may have made it until the end of the workday before his absence was noticed. But as it stood, Wyatt was forced to call out the search party and the dogs after only an hour. Wyatt had prepared for this situation as well though. He had taken the filthy blood-spattered clothes that James had worn in the dungeon, tore them into pieces, and buried them in shallow holes headed eastward, far off the trail that he had sent James on. When the dogs were retrieved, he was certain to guide them toward the false path.
James had already taken full advantage of his one-hour lead. He was familiar with the burned-out log cabin near the creek and had made his way there with ease. He snatched the satchel out of the fireplace, ate quickly, tore his clothes off, scrubbed himself in the creek, and let his clothes float down the stream. He put on the pair of boots he was given and dug through the satchel again for a change of clothes. It was then that he realized that Wyatt had not provided him with any. He went back to look in the fireplace again to see if he had missed them but nothing else was there. With his prison garbs now long gone, he had no other choice but to wade across the cold stream nude. After quickly making it to the other shore, he checked around for another bag that might contain something to wear but found nothing. In his search, though, he found the trail of broken tree branches that Wyatt told him to follow. He recalled Wyatt saying that the marked trees would lead him to what he needed. With onions in hand, he began trotting through the woods naked, hoping that clothes would be among the things he would eventually find at the end of the trail.
Completely winded from running so hard, James stopped briefly after a half-hour and bent over to catch his breath. At that very moment, he could hear the faint sound of several hounds barking far off in the distance. They could very well have been rando
m hunting dogs, but James took it as a sign that he was now officially a wanted man. That fact gave him another burst of energy and he quickly resumed trotting and hopping over the brush and rough terrain … stark naked.
Despite being completely exhausted, James had pushed himself non-stop for another solid half-hour. He leaned over heaving with his hands on his knees, fighting the urge to vomit as he looked around for the next broken tree limb to guide his path. A slight panic came over him when he failed to find one, nor any sign of the package that Wyatt had promised would be at the end of the trail.
“Since y’ur the only ass-naked man I’ve seen pass through here, I assume y’ur the person I’m lookin’ for,” James suddenly heard from behind him.
James briefly looked over at the man and then turned to run.
“Take anotha’ step and I’ll shoot ya’,” the man said, pulling out his pistol.
James stopped and put his hands in the air, figuring he may as well surrender easily.
The man tossed a satchel on the ground near James’s feet. “Put y’ur hands down and put those clothes on. I prefer not to see a man’s prick while I’m talkin’ to ’em.”
“That makes two of us,” James replied, picking up the bag. He quickly got dressed and looked back at the man.
“Y’ur late,” the man said, tossing James a canteen of water. “You should’ve been here an hour ago.”
James looked confused. “Who the hell’re you?”
“Colt Collins. I’m Wyatt’s younga’ brotha’. Sorry he had you runnin’ through here ass naked, but he figured it’d give you more motivation to stay on the path he laid out for ya’.”
“Damn right about that!” James exclaimed, as he put his boots back on. When he finished he looked up at Colt. “I’m grateful for what your brotha’ did. But I can’t help but wonda’ why you two are helpin’ me?”
“We know you’re desperate to find Lily, and my brotha’s and I are just as desperate for you to find ’er too.”
“You are?” James asked, looking confused.
Colt nodded.
“Why?”
“’Cause we need you to help us.”
“What the hell could I possibly help eitha’ of you with?”
“We need you to deliva’ an important message.”
“To whom?”
“To Lily. We know she’s not on y’ur fatha’s farm anymore. We’ve tried lookin’ for her recently, but none of us have been able to track ’er down anywhere. Me and my brotha’s, we got jobs and families. So unfortunately, we don’t have time to dedicate to lookin’ for her. But Wyatt assures me that you’d go to y’ur grave before you eva’ gave up searchin’ for her.”
“Your brotha’s damn right about that.”
“That’s why we think it only makes sense for you to be the one to find ’er and deliva’ this message.”
“What message?”
Colt approached, picked up one of two large satchels on the ground, and pulled out an envelope. “It’s our unda’standin’ that you taught Lily to read?”
“I did,” James boasted proudly.
“Then we need you to give ’er this,” Colt said, handing James the letter inside the envelope.
James took a moment to read the contents. He then slowly looked up at Colt when he was finished, the look on his giving away how astonished he was by what he had just read.
“It would mean the world to me and my brotha’s if you found Lily and let ’er read that. She needs to know. In fact, it’s important to us that she gets everything in these two satchels,” he said, pointing to them. “Everything in them will help bring more clarity to that letta’. But above anything else, be sure she gets that message,” he said, tapping the paper.
James nodded. “I promise, I will,” he said as he placed the letter back inside the envelope.
“There’s plenty ‘a money, pistols, and ammo in the saddlebags of a horse I got tied to a tree, a few hundred yards in that direction.” Colt motioned his head westward. “There’s enough can goods and wata’ to get you by for a few days too.”
“Thank you.”
Colt nodded. “See to it that we didn’t free ya’ for nothin’. Me and my brotha’s, we’re dependin’ on ya’, ya’ hear?”
“I swear to you and your brotha’s that all your efforts will be worth it … and foreva’ appreciated.”
Colt slapped James on the shoulder. “We’ll be prayin’ for ya’.”
“Thank you. I’ll need all the prayers I can get.”
James placed the letter inside one of the satchels, picked them both up, and ran off to the horse Colt had waiting on him. He secured the bags to the horse and then rode as far toward the border of Ohio as the stallion could handle for the night. He found a secluded area and hid in a small cave. Once settled, he lit a fire and eagerly opened up one of the satchels that Colt had given him. One by one, he began pulling out the treasures inside, curiously examining each of them. Beneath all the treasures were several journals. He opened the first page of each of them and found the one with the earliest date. He hoped maybe the contents would help explain the significance of the treasures inside the satchels, as well as the motives behind the message from Lily’s brothers. James scooted closer to the firelight and began reading the first page of a journal that had been written by the hand of Lily’s father.
“I’ll be damned,” James whispered after the very first passage impacted him hard and immediately began to shift his perspective about Levi Collins…
Chapter Seven
Collins Plantation
August 1834
Ten months before Lily’s birth
Maya froze in the chicken coop after turning around to find the drifter that Levi had just hired standing in the doorway. The drifter had his erect penis exposed, stroking it while staring at Maya with his mouth agape. “I wanna feel those thick juicy lips wrapped around my cock,” the repulsive man said to her, breathing heavily as he continued to pleasure himself. “I bet you’d have me beggin’ for mercy, wouldn’t ya’ brown suga’?” he moaned.
Knowing she had no other way out of the chicken coop, Maya began trembling. She tried to remain composed, but tears suddenly welled in her eyes. The drifter smiled at the fear he had just infused in her. He let out a twisted laugh at the frightened look on her face, pulled his pants back up, turned around to walk away, and was suddenly stunned by all four of Levi’s brick hard knuckles.
The drifter’s knees slightly buckled and he stumbled back a step. “What the hell!” he yelled after he regained his balance. He then spit into his hand. “You fucker! You done knocked ma’ tooth out!”
“And if you wanna keep the rest of those rotten teeth in y’ur mouth, I suggest you get the hell off ‘a my property! Quick, fast, and in a hurry!”
“You ain’t paid me yet!” the drifter had the audacity to reply.
“For what?!” Levi snarled, baring his teeth like a rabid dog. “You ain’t done nothin’ but drink up my beer and disrespect her from the moment you got here!” he yelled, pointing at Maya.
The drifter tossed his tooth aside and took a step toward Levi. “I ain’t leavin’ here ’til you pay me my goddamn money!”
Levi fearlessly stepped toward him too. “The only thing y’ur gonna leave here with is a bullet in y’ur fuckin’ chest if you don’t stumble y’ur drunk ass off ‘a my land!”
The drifter bucked up, threatened Levi with his eyes and made a move like he was about to lunge at him.
“NOW!” Levi shouted, pulling his pistol from his holster and aiming it at the drifter’s face.
The look in Levi’s eyes was enough to convince the drifter that he better heed his warning while he had the chance. “B-be easy. Be easy,” he said as he backed away with his hands up. He spit more blood out of his mouth, cautiously stepped past Levi, and quickly made his way off the farm.
Levi watched the vulgar man until he was certain that he was no longer a threat. He then turned around to find Maya still s
taring at him. She was holding her master’s gaze for far longer than she knew a slave was allowed. She could not help it. She was stunned that the usually mild-mannered, quiet man she knew Levi to be had just turned into a beast on her behalf. She lowered her head and quickly broke eye contact when she finally realized her mistake. Her heart began to beat rapidly all over again when she heard Levi’s footsteps crinkling through the dried hay on the ground as he made his way toward her. With the anger Levi had just emitted, Maya was unsure if he might be on his way to correct her error in yet another heated exchange. Levi stopped close enough for Maya to see his boots as she continued to gaze at the ground.
Silence.
Maya jumped slightly when she saw Levi’s hand reaching toward her. “Are you okay?” he asked, gently placing his hand on her shoulder.
“Y-yessa’,” she replied nervously, still looking at his feet.
Gently, Levi raised her head to meet his eyes. “You sure?” he asked, needing to see the truth for himself.
The compassionate look in his eyes suddenly brought Maya a sense of calm. “I’m sure.”
Levi still would not take his eyes off Maya nor his hand off her chin. He nodded. “Okay then,” he replied.
After what felt like an eternity to Maya, Levi finally released her from his gaze and from his gentle grip and walked away.
A few days prior, a sudden summer storm had severely damaged Levi’s barn roof. The need for emergency repairs put an end to his plans to travel out of state with his family to attend the wedding of his wife’s brother. Being as poor as he was, Levi had hired the cheap labor of a skilled drifter to help him with the roof repairs. That drifter, however, quickly began putting in the kind of work that he was not getting paid for.
