Gunwitch

by David Michael

  Chal sat next to her, eyes open. Rose saw Major Haley seated against the wall across the fire from her, sleeping, with Janett also asleep, her head on his left shoulder. Rose suppressed both the memory of her own cheek against that shoulder and a flicker of jealousy. Margaret was on the major’s other side, curled up with her head on his leg. Blankets had been stretched across the cave’s two openings, and a small fire had been lit. The sound of the waterfalls remained, but was much lower than it had been when they first arrived.

  As if reading her mind, Chal smiled. “I grew tired of shouting,” she said.

  Rose sat up, still tense from the dream and the memory of Ducoed’s laughter. “Was that safe?”

  “In this place?” Chal asked. “With the waters all around me? I–we–could not be safer.” She sighed. “The waters … call to me, though. And they bring me news.”

  “Where’s Private Tishman?” Rose asked.

  Chal pointed to the entrance of the cave. Rose looked and saw the man’s back. “He insisted on keeping watch after the Major finally went to sleep.”

  “How long did I sleep? What time is it?”

  “Two hours have passed,” Chal said. She added, “Since midnight.”

  Rose gaped at her. “You let me sleep more than six hours?”

  “You needed the rest,” Chal said.

  “So do you. You said the water brought news. Have there been signs of our pursuers?”

  “They passed us by just after you … helped … the handsome major and fell asleep. Since then, there have been parties with torches going up and down the riverbank. Once, someone came to the island.”

  Rose sat up. “You should have wakened me.”

  “There was no need. They saw nothing, and continued to the other side.” Chal paused. “Many have passed through the river, fording upstream from here. I am certain that they have established two camps now, one on each side of the river.”

  “How many soldiers?”

  “There are several hundred … soldiers. I cannot be more precise.”

  Rose shook her head. So many. “That can’t be. Where did they all come from?”

  Chal shrugged.

  “Are they Swedes? Or Italians? Natives? Could you tell?”

  “No. I could not tell. They are not … entirely …” Chal trailed off.

  “Human?” Rose suggested, thinking of the half-man, half-machine she had destroyed.

  “Natural,” Chal said. “They are wrong,” she added. “And their wrongness makes them stand out to my senses, but also makes my senses recoil. Even the waters of the river protested at their touch and wanted to wash them away.” She paused and Rose half expected her to spit. “I also sensed grunzers.”

  “Grunzers? In the bayuk?”

  “At least one stomped through the river. Even this, though, felt … wrong. Not like the grunzers we have seen at forts along the river.”

  “Bad news all around,” Rose said, remembering again the dream of Ducoed.

  Chal nodded. “Very bad. Very very bad.”

  * * *

  “We’re going to have to cross the river one at a time,” Rose said. “There will be rocks to make the crossing easier. Stay on those. I will go first, and Chal will come last, to get rid of our trail.”

  “How will we leave a trail on rocks across moving water?” Major Haley asked.

  “There is more than one type of trail, Major.”

  They put out the fire, pushing the coals into the back of the waterfall to be swept away, and Chal retrieved the blankets. They crouched in the darkness of the cave, the sounds of the waterfalls again roaring at full volume.

  Rose leaned close so she was speaking into Major Haley’s newly restored ear. “Count thirty,” she said, “then send Janett after me. Then count thirty again and send Margaret. Then you and the private. Thirty-second intervals,” she added. “Got it?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said. “I mean, yes.”

  “It’s been a while since a soldier called me ‘sir’,” Rose said. “And he wasn’t an officer.” She felt more than saw his lips pulled into a smile. Resisting the urge to kiss him on the cheek, she turned her back on him.

  She crawled through the opening and looked to both the east and west banks of the river. A waxing gibbous moon cast gray light over everything. Not as bright as a full moon, but still more illumination than she preferred for making a run with little or no cover. She saw no movement or sign of torches, though. Private Tishman had reported that an hour had passed since his last glimpse of either, so maybe their pursuers had settled in for the night.

  She considered the possibility that the enemy was even now waiting for her and the girls to make a move. She was sure that their pursuers did not know about the cave, or they would have already searched it. But they had to know she was somewhere nearby. She had known the trick with the disappearing trail would not fool them for long. And it had not. That they had crossed the river here was proof of that. But she could not sit still, not with enemies surrounding her. Tomorrow, there would be a more thorough search, and they had run out of food.

  Pushing out of the bush that covered the entrance to the cave, she saw the rocks Chal had caused to rise. The rocks only just broke the surface of the water, so they were visible more as silver-lined darker spots in the stream than rocks. The rocks would be completely dry, of course. Chal thought of everything.

  She crouched as she ran, holding her rifle in both hands in front of her, stepping from stone to stone, her moccasined feet making no sounds and leaving no marks on the rocks. On the bank, she knelt beside a bush and looked around again. The night remained still.

  Rose waited. Thirty seconds became a minute, and there was still no sign of Janett. Two minutes.

  She had just decided she would wait five full minutes before heading back over the river to see what had been so hard to understand about waiting thirty seconds when a small shadow emerged from the cave and started across the river. The figure was smaller than Janett, and wore trousers. Margaret.

  Rose had her hand ready to cover the girl’s mouth, but Margaret did not startle when Rose came out of the shadow of the bush. So Rose took the girl’s hand and pulled her back into the shadow.

  “What’s going on?What’s h she asked, whispering.

  “Janett is scared,” Margaret said. “Scared and tired and cranky. She’s refusing to try to jump from rock to rock over a river at night.”

  Rose ground her teeth and her fingers twitched with a sudden urge to throttle Janett.

  “Major Haley offered to carry her across on his back, but she said it wasn’t dignified–”

  “Shh! Someone else is coming.”

  A man, carrying a rifle and a pair of boots came across on the stones. He stood on the bank of the river, looking around.

  “Over here, Private,” Rose whispered.

  She saw Private Tishman nod in acknowledgment, then he came to them. He sat beside Rose and started pulling his boots on.

  “Are they coming?”

  “The Major isn’t making much headway with the lass, no, mum. She’s a headstrong one, she is. Mum,” he added after a short pause.

  “You don’t have to call me that, Private,” Rose said. “I’m a civilian.”

  “Yes, mum.”

  Rose ignored the private and looked across to the island again. Nothing and no one. Only the water moved. After another three minutes, she gave up hope that Major Haley’s backbone would prove stiff enough to stand up to Janett. The private was right: Janett was headstrong, and she had the poor major well in hand.

  Poor major? Rose almost snorted. “Both of you stay here,” Rose said. “Margaret, don’t move, and do what Private Tishman says.”

  Margaret nodded, and the private repeated, “Yes, mum.”

  Rose let out a breath that hissed through her teeth. “I’ll be right back.”

  She considered leaving her rifle, then took it because she did not want to leave it on the ground near the river, and because she m
ight need it as a paddle for a stubborn girl’s bottom. Rose ran across the rocks again, wondering if she and Chal could manage to carry Janett between them, trussed hand and foot.

  She did not hear anything until she reached the island and pushed through the entrance of the cave. The three of them, Chal, Major Haley, and Janett stood with their faces mere inches from one another, shouting to be heard over the waterfall and each other. The major had to kneel to be at the level of the girls.

  “… cannot stay here, Miss Laxton,” Chal said.

  “I will not leave,” Janett said. “And I insist that you or Major Haley go and fetch my sister back here at once.”

  “Janett, you’re being unreasonable.”

  “What is this then?” Rose asked, pushing her way between Chal and Janett, finding herself face to face with Major Haley. She turned to Chal.

  Chal’s face showed more annoyance than Rose had ever witnessed. Even when the men had been dunking her, that night they first met, Chal had been more amused–and exhausted and scared and resigned–than annoyed. Chal did not get annoyed easy.

  “Janett–” the major started to say.

  “That’s Miss Laxton to you,” Janett said, cutting him off. “Until you bring my sister back here.”

  The major looked hurt, taken aback.

  Chal only stood there, her mouth tightly closed, her dark eyes smoldering.

  Rose took a breath. “Miss Laxton,” she said, “we can’t stay here–”

  “Yes, we can!” Janett shouted.

  “It’s not safe.”

  “Yes, it is,” Janett insisted. “I heard her–” She pointed at Chal, as if threatening to impale Chal on her finger. “–tell you that we could not be safer than right here.”

  “Not forever–”

  Janett pulled herself up. “I am not a child,” she said. “We do not need to stay here forever. Only until you reach the fort, and my father, and come back with soldiers to rescue us.”

  Rose stared at Janett. “That is the stupidest–”

  “No!” Janett cut her off. “You leading us tramping through the woods and the muck, that is stupid. While you were sleeping, our pursuers walked all around us and did not find us. This place is safe. So you go. You find my father and you bring him here.”

  “There’s no food, and they–whoever or whatever they are–are all around us.” Rose looked at Chal, but Chal’s return look told her only that all these arguments had been made already.

  “Then you had best be going quickly,” Janett said. “Bring Margaret back to the safety of the cave, and be off.”

  “Rose! Are you out there, Rose?”

  The impossibility of the words, audible over the sound of the falling water, jerked Rose’s head up, and the voice sent a chill down her spine.

  “Leave the native girl, of course,” Janett was saying, “as a chaperone. Though they have proved themselves proper gentlemen, it would not be proper for us to be alone with just Major Haley and the private–”

  “Surely, Rose, you didn’t leave this little girl all alone?”

  Ducoed’s voice? Rose looked at Chal. Surprise had replaced annoyance in Chal’s expression. Rose’s left hand clamped over Janett’s mouth. “Be silent,” she said.

  Janett pulled her head back and knocked Rose’s hand away. “Do not touch–”

  “Major,” Rose said, “shut her up. Now.”

  “Oh! Here we are!” the voice continued. “You didn’t leave her alone, after all. You left her a bit of a nursemaid.”

  Now even Janett heard the voice. “Mr. Thomas?” she said.

  “But I’m afraid it’s only a bit of him that is left. One of the soldiers, I see. Not the good major. A pity. Margaret is quite safe, though.”

  “Perhaps he shielded himself?” Chal said to Rose’s unspoken question.

  “Mr. Thomas has found us!” Janett said.

  “Now, where is the pretty Janett? We mustn’t breakup such a beautiful set of little English dolls.”

  “Here I am,” Janett shouted. She pushed between Rose and Major Haley, heading for the entrance. “I’m in here–”

  Rose caught her from behind and pinned the girl’s arms to her side.

  “Now see here, Miss Bainbridge,” the major started. “Oh, I say, that’s quite unnecessary,” he added as Chal ripped a sleeve from Janett’s dress and stuffed the material into the girl’s mouth, gagging her.

  “Shh!” Rose told him. Janett struggled against her, kicking and wiggling in her arms. She weighed less than a stone more than Janett, but the girl did not have a chance. A pity, Rose thought. The daughter of a colonel should know something about fighting. Rose saw Chal close her eyes, felt the first stirrings of power. “No, Chal,” she said. “He’ll feel that for sure. He hasn’t seen the rocks yet, so maybe he won’t see them. We’ll just have to risk it.”

  “I know you’re out there, Rose. I know you can hear me.”

  “Shouldn’t we go out to him?” Major Haley said.

  “No,” Rose said. “We should not.”

  “Why?”

  “Aren’t you listening?”

  “I’m impressed, Rose,” Ducoed said, his voice still booming. “You really did go native. I wonder what that’s like, in all its particulars.”

  “Miss Bainbridge, the leftenant hasn’t said anything that would lead me to believe–”

  “Our pursuers are all around us, Major,” Rose said. “Thomas Ducoed is an arrogant son of a bitch, but even he would not be so oblivious to danger. Unless he is also part of the danger.”

  The major looked unsure.

  Rose shook her head. Bloody officers. “He’s already killed Private Tishman, or stood by while the private was killed. Now he’s hoping to scare us out into the open.”

  “I’m going to go now, Rose. I’m taking Margaret to her father. If you don’t mind, do try to get Janett to the fort on time. I did give my word I would bring them both to their father. You remember their father, don’t you, Rose?”

  Major Haley looked at Rose, and at Chal. “How can you be sure he doesn’t already know where we are? What about Janett–Miss Laxton’s shouts?”

  “He could not have heard her shouting,” Rose said. “Not over the waterfall.”

  “Imagine how surprised the good Colonel Laxton will be to see me and Margaret. Won’t that be a … pleasant reunion? Last chance, Rose. No? Perhaps I’ll see you on the way then, or maybe at the fort. Good night, Rose.”

  Janett renewed her struggles, but Rose held her fast. “Shh,” she said into the girl’s ear. “Shh. Margaret is safe. For now. Ducoed won’t hurt her. Not yet. And we’ll get her back before he can.” She doubted Janett believed her. She was not sure she believed herself.

  “What is going on here?” the major asked. “If Leftenant Ducoed is with our enemies, why is he taking Margaret to the fort?”

  “Because that’s where Colonel Laxton is,” Rose said. And for something else. There had to be something else. Ducoed was vengeful, but this went past simple vengeance. It had to. She had no idea what else was going on. Fortunately, the major did not press the issue.

  The booming voice did not return. The water continued to fall over the cataract, drowning them in a loud silence.

  Chapter 9

  Margaret

  Comite Riverbank

  1742 A.D.

  As they walked away from the river, Margaret held Mr. Thomas’ hand with both of hers, still in shock. Her eyes were wide, her hair disheveled and smelling of bile. She was hardly conscious but she dared not close her eyes. The ringing in her ears drowned out the remembered sounds of Private Tishman’s last few seconds. If she closed her eyes, though, she would see those seconds all over again.

  * * *

  Cold hands, like long claws had come out of the darkness behind her, closed on her arms and pulled her away from Private Tishman. She screamed and screamed, calling out for Miss Rose, but the woman had already disappeared back into the cave in the middle of the river.

/>   Private Tishman turned, bringing his rifle up, but that had been all he managed to do. Then the bush beside him came alive with claws that hooked into the flesh of his right leg and his stomach. Except it was not a bush. Something with thin arms and legs, like black sticks, with big hands that sported hands like curved pitchfork tines–which were now stuck in Private Tishman–rose from the riverbank and pulled the soldier off his feet so he dangled.

  “Bloody fu–!” Private Tishman shouted.

  Another of those creatures came from the private’s left, her right, and stuck him from that direction, suspending the man between the two creatures as if he were a bug caught in a black spider web.

  “Run, girly,” the private said, looking straight at her. He coughed and gurgled as black points erupted from his chest. “Run!”

  She tried to run, but the smell of death wrapped around her and cold fingers encircled her arms and lifted her off the ground. She struggled, but could only kick her legs. She could not hit anything. She looked up, to see what held her. The moonlight showed her a face with hollow eyes, pits in the face over a shriveled nose. The lipless mouth exposed rotten teeth.

  She almost tore herself apart trying to get free, thrashing and kicking and pulling and screaming, but the black hands held her as tightly as iron bands. Where she kicked, her shoes rebounded as if she struck leather or wood. The creature that held her never made a sound.

  Screams that were not hers pulled her attention.

  Two more creatures had joined the two holding Private Tishman, one in front and one behind. Their long fingers were curved into hooks, and they dragged them through the man’s flesh, starting at his shoulders and raking down. His shirt and trousers were shredded. As she watched, his flesh curled up like ribbons around the black fingertips and blood flowed from the grooves. White ribs peeked out of his chest. He screamed again, and his mouth was open wider than any Margaret had ever seen. Then she saw that his cheeks had been cut as far back as his ears and she could see his tongue moving between his teeth–