Fury

by Bill Bright

  On the far side of the room a man stood and prayed for a wayward son. Another man prayed for his wife, who was ill.

  Daniel rested his forehead against the seat. He wondered what people would think if he stood up and began playing a prayer to God on his recorder.

  The chair next to him jostled as his uncle stood. Daniel looked up. His uncle’s head tilted heavenward. His eyes were closed. He began to pray.

  Uncle Asa’s words flowed like a stream. He thanked God for helping him locate Daniel. He began to pray for Aunt Camilla.

  And then another man in the back of the room stood.

  Daniel’s heart lurched the instant he recognized Epps.

  Like the apocalyptic beast rising out of the sea, the killer rose above the surface of those bowed in prayer. From his waistband he drew a pistol and, with one fluid motion, aimed it at Uncle Asa’s chest.

  Asa’s eyes were closed. He couldn’t see the threat, Daniel knew.

  But somehow Uncle Asa sensed it, or an angel alerted him, or something, because before Daniel could react, his uncle’s eyes opened.

  “Robely?”

  Epps cocked the pistol.

  His uncle, still using his speaking voice, which he’d been using to pray, began quoting the psalmist: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…”

  Shoving the chair away, Daniel scrambled to his feet, rising up in front of his uncle. He took up the psalm, his voice blending with his uncle’s voice: “…I will fear no evil…”

  Chairs that hindered flew aside as Robbins and Ben stood, shielding Daniel, who shielded his uncle. Their voices joined, “…for thou art with me…”

  The commotion alerted others, who also stood. They added their voices. “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.”

  Robely Epps, undeterred, continued to stand with pistol aimed.

  “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me…”

  His arm began to shake.

  “…all the days of my life…”

  The pistol wavered, as if it was too heavy and weighed his arm down.

  “…and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord…”

  The weapon clattered to the floor.

  “…forever.”

  Robely Epps was shaking all over. His hands flew to his face as he let out a long, mournful wail that sent a shiver through Daniel. Then the killer sank to his knees, weeping profusely.

  Someone retrieved the pistol from the floor.

  Those who were close to Epps surrounded him, kneeling beside him, placing their hands on his head and shoulders and back, praying for him.

  From the center of the prayers came Epps’s wail, “I’m lost! I’m lost! I’m lost!”

  Daniel found that he, too, was shaking.

  “I’ve never seen a braver act,” a smiling Robbins told Daniel, clapping him hard on the shoulder.

  “Me? What about you and Ben?” Daniel insisted.

  “Just following your example, son.”

  Hands grabbed Daniel’s shoulders. The next thing he knew he was encircled by his uncle’s arms in a hug that squeezed the breath from him.

  Lucy was crying and laughing. Hannah stood at a distance, her arms folded, but she was looking at Daniel and smiling.

  The entire room felt electric with the Spirit. The incident had served as a catalyst for people to pray harder and louder and longer.

  Daniel’s uncle tried to get to Robely Epps, but by the time he had worked his way through the layers that surrounded him, the sheriff had arrived to remove Epps from the room.

  Epps offered no resistance. As he stood to his feet, he kept his head bowed. His hair covered his face as he was led from the room.

  “Where will they take him?” Uncle Asa asked.

  “Jailhouse,” Robbins replied. “You want to talk to him, don’t you?”

  “Aya.”

  “I’ll take you later.”

  “Much obliged.” Uncle Asa took a deep breath. “I don’t do this kind of thing every day. I could use some air.”

  Robbins led him out of the room, meandering toward the back door around kneeling, praying people.

  “That was really something!” Ben told Daniel.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re a hero.” Lucy kissed him on the cheek.

  Daniel blushed.

  Hannah was right behind her. She put her arms around Daniel’s neck, her cheek against his cheek.

  “There’s hope for you yet,” she whispered.

  Chapter 39

  “You’re hopeless!” Hannah yelled.

  “What brought that on?”

  Daniel looked up, pitchfork poised. It was morning. He’d been mucking out the stalls in the barn when Hannah barged in.

  Following the prayer meeting yesterday, he and his uncle had spent a delightful day with the Robbins family, Ben, and Lucy. That evening Finney had preached again to a crowded church with similar results. The whole town had turned religious, and Uncle Asa was convinced the revival was genuine.

  The only disappointing part of the day had come when Uncle Asa and Robbins went to see Epps in jail. The sheriff told them the man had gone insane. He was curled up in the corner of the jail cell and ignored any attempts to converse with him.

  Uncle Asa had insisted Epps would talk to him, so the sheriff agreed to let him try. But once inside, Uncle Asa fared no better than the others. Epps rocked back and forth, ranting meaningless phrases, and talking only to phantoms.

  Late into the night Daniel had talked with his uncle in the hotel lobby. They had said their good-byes.

  By the time Daniel got back to the Robbins’s farm, everyone else had retired for the night.

  “What are you still doing here?” Hannah demanded.

  “I’m glad to see my presence fills you with such happiness,” Daniel replied, returning to work.

  Hannah marched to the edge of the stall. Arms folded across her chest, she glared at him. “Your uncle’s leaving this morning, right?”

  “Aya. Probably on his way by now.”

  “So?”

  She wasn’t going to let him off easy. Daniel leaned on the pitchfork.

  “So?” he repeated.

  “Aren’t you going with him?”

  “No.”

  Her eyes flashed anger. “Why not?”

  “My uncle’s capable of making the journey himself.”

  “Are you so certain of that? On his way here he had a traveling companion. Someone to look out for him.”

  Daniel grinned. “Are you sure you want to use that argument? My uncle had a killer with him. Besides, we’ve already had this conversation. There’s nothing for me in Cumberland.” He resumed mucking.

  “Yes, we have had this conversation,” she countered, “only I thought you’d grown up a little since then. Apparently I was wrong.”

  Again Daniel straightened up. “What do you mean by that?”

  Before she could answer, Robbins pulled into the barn driving his wagon. He leaped down from the seat. “Well…your uncle’s on his way!” he said jovially.

  When no response was forthcoming, he eyed Hannah. Evidently he read his daughter’s expression and realized he’d driven into the middle of something, for his own expression changed. He started unhitching the horse and talked nonstop as he worked.

  “Happened to find two families traveling as far as Harrisburg…cousins of the Blakelys over on River Street, just east of the fort. You went to school with the Blakely boy, didn’t you, Hannah?”

  Her father didn’t give any indication he expected an answer. He appeared to be familiar with her mood.

  “As it turned out,” he continued, “they were delighted to have Asa travel with them. Turns out her father is a preacher in Providence. So Asa won’t have to make the long journey alone. I feel better about that.”

  Hannah shot a glance at Daniel, who tried not to smile.

  He said to Robb
ins, “So then, it worked out good for everyone, didn’t it?”

  “Aya,” Robbins said, leading the horse to his stall. “God has a way of working things out for all concerned.”

  Hannah harrumphed and stomped out of the barn.

  Her father looked after her. “Anything I should know about?” he asked Daniel.

  “She’s angry because I didn’t go with my uncle back to Cumberland.”

  Robbins nodded. He didn’t appear too concerned. “She’s a lot like her mother. Word of advice? Batten down the hatches, my boy.”

  After helping Robbins push the wagon to where it was stored when not in use, Daniel returned to mucking and Robbins went into the house.

  Daniel wasn’t alone for long.

  Hannah marched in, quoting Scripture: “‘I will put my laws into their mind, and write them in their hearts: and I will be to them a God, and they shall be to me a people.’” She set her jaw and awaited his response.

  “From the Bible, right?” Daniel said.

  “The book of Hebrews. It goes on to say, ‘And they shall not teach every man his neighbour, and every man his brother, saying, Know the Lord: for all shall know me, from the least to the greatest.’” Again, she awaited his response.

  “What’s your point?” Daniel asked.

  “My point is—I shouldn’t have to tell you to go with your uncle to Cumberland!”

  Daniel shook his head. “You drew that conclusion from that verse?”

  She let loose a frustrated sigh, as though he was purposely playing ignorant to try her patience. He wasn’t. Maybe he was dumb, but he didn’t see what the one had to do with the other.

  “It’s like when you were a child,” she explained. “Your parents taught you rules that were meant to keep you from hurting yourself. Rules like, don’t play with sharp knives. But when you grew up, there came a time when they no longer had to tell you not to play with sharp knives. You knew not to play with sharp knives.”

  The subject of knives brought Epps to mind. Daniel was tempted to say he wished someone had taught Epps not to play with knives when he was a little boy, but he thought it would only make her angrier.

  “Don’t you see?” she cried. “There came a time when God no longer had to remind His people of right and wrong, nor did they have to teach it to their neighbors, because He placed the law in their hearts. Which means that I shouldn’t have to tell you that going with your uncle is the right thing to do. You shouldknow it’s the right thing to do…and you should do itbecause it’s the right thing to do! You’re not a little boy anymore.”

  Her words hit him hard.

  She must have noticed. “What?” she asked.

  “Hughie.”

  Hannah shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “A boy I met in the forest. His brother and another older boy were being mean to him.”

  “What happened?”

  “I helped him.”

  Hannah smiled.

  He understood now.

  “Nobody had to tell you to help him.”

  “It was the right thing to do.” Daniel grew thoughtful. “I’m not the only one Cyrus Gregg is being mean to. He’s not my uncle’s friend.”

  “Only your uncle doesn’t know it.”

  Daniel straightened himself with resolve. “He will soon enough.”

  “You’re going back to Cumberland.”

  “It’s the right thing to do,” Daniel said. “Only—”

  Hannah frowned. “Only what?”

  “I’d rather stay.”

  She nodded. “Sometimes you have to do the adult thing. Lucy will still be here when you get back.”

  “When I come back, it won’t be for Lucy.”

  Hannah’s eyes flashed fury. She raised a warning finger in his direction. “Don’t do that, Daniel! It’s mean!”

  “What is it with you?” He threw the pitchfork aside.

  But before he could say anything else, Ben came running into the barn out of breath. “He’s escaped!” Ben bent over, gulping air.

  Hannah rushed to him. She put her hand on his back and bent over so she was on his level. “Take deep breaths. And then tell us—”

  “Epps.” Daniel didn’t need to be told.

  Ben nodded. “Epps.”

  “How do you know?” Daniel asked.

  “Was coming this way,” Ben said, still laboring for air, “ran into some men who are…looking for him…deputies. Said he came to himself this morning and was…real calm like…and asked for some men to pray with him…and somehow got a weapon and almost—”

  “Slit a man’s throat,” Daniel inserted.

  “Aya. And then he ran away. They’re out looking for him.”

  “They won’t find him,” Daniel said.

  “What makes you say that?” Ben asked.

  “Because he’s an expert woodsman, for one thing. But also because he’s probably no longer in the area.”

  “Do you think he’ll go after your uncle?” Hannah asked.

  Daniel started for the loft to get his things. “Aya.”

  Chapter 40

  “You’re in a good mood today, Mr. Gregg,” his secretary said by way of greeting.

  “It’s a good day to be alive,” Gregg said.

  “It may get even better. A letter from Representative Holt arrived while you were out. I put it on your desk.”

  Cyrus Gregg closed his office door behind him. He’d refrained from smiling in front of his secretary. Now, rubbing his hands together in celebration, he hurried to his desk.

  Holding the letter in his hand, he savored the moment, relishing the missive’s point of origin—Washington, D.C. Finally unable to contain his excitement any longer, he opened the envelope and read Holt’s report.

  His good mood increased with each sentence. In two weeks the United States House of Representatives would vote on funding for his canal. It was going to pass. Holt had the votes. Cyrus Gregg’s dream of a water highway linking Cumberland to the Ohio Canal was going to become a reality.

  Gregg folded the letter. He started whistling a joyful little ditty from his childhood.

  He couldn’t wait to tell Camilla. Maybe he wouldn’t wait. Maybe he’d ride out to her place later this afternoon and surprise her.

  For the last few weeks everything had gone his way. Ever since the funeral.

  His eyes fell on a calendar. He smiled. Today was an anniversary of sorts. It was a month to the day that they had buried Asa Rush.

  As he’d expected, Asa’s death had been hard on Camilla. But also, as he’d expected, she was beginning to show signs of emerging from her grief. Custom allowed her eleven more months of bereavement, which meant they could be married after the first of next year. He wondered if she’d want to have a spring wedding.

  There was a soft knock on the door.

  “I’m busy!” Gregg barked.

  The door opened anyway. His secretary stuck his long face in the doorway. “Mr. Epps is here to see you,” he said in a trembling voice. “I tried to explain to him that you were busy. He’s most insistent.”

  “Show him in,” Gregg said reluctantly. “And Heinrich? If you let another person through that door, I’ll have you stuffed and mounted over my mantle.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Cyrus Gregg slipped the congressional letter under his desk blotter. Epps, filthy and surly, strolled into the office.

  “The least you could have done is clean up before coming to my office,” Gregg said with distaste. “This is a business establishment.”

  “You’ve got greater problems than offending the sensibilities of your clientele.” Epps pulled a chair to the front of the desk and propped up a foot.

  Gregg bit back a complaint. An animal-like glint in Epps’s eyes warned him it was unwise to expect the woodsman to act like a gentleman.

  “What are you talking about?” Gregg asked.

  “Asa Rush is still alive.”

  “What?”

  “So’s the
boy.”

  A flash of anger nearly pushed Gregg over the line that separated rational thought from irrational acts of violence. He was standing, holding a lead paperweight, before he was even aware he’d picked it up.

  Epps’s hand moved instinctively under his coat.

  Gregg made a show of putting down the paperweight peacefully and taking his seat. “Let’s stay calm,” he said with forced civility.

  “That temper’s going to get you killed one of these days.” Epps removed his hand from his coat.

  Gregg ignored the prediction. There was only one thing he wanted to hear from Epps right now.

  “What happened?” he demanded. “The last message I received from you indicated they were as good as dead.”

  “Things changed. The wind shifted. What does it matter? All that matters is that I have everything under control.”

  “What does it matter?” Gregg yelled. “We buried two empty caskets a month ago! Everyone around here thinks that Asa and the boy are dead! How am I going to explain Asa Rush riding into the center of town?”

  Epps sat up. “What in blazes did you do a fool thing like that for?”

  Cyrus Gregg felt his face redden. He wasn’t accustomed to having his judgment being called into question.

  “I had my reasons,” he said with authority. “What did you mean when you said you have everything under control?”

  “Just that. I have everything under control,” Epps insisted, despite Gregg’s revelation. “Asa Rush is three hours outside Cumberland.”

  Cyrus Gregg’s anger returned. It brought panic with it. Only by supreme effort was he able to contain them. “You know this for certain?”

  “I told you. I have everything under control.”

  “Explain it to me.”

  Epps nodded. “Fair enough. The boy managed to elude us for weeks. Mostly luck, though he got help from locals at times…”

  Gregg clenched his jaw so tight it hurt. “Skip to the part of what you plan to do about Asa Rush.”

  “Afraid I can’t do that,” Epps insisted. “To understand how it’s all going to play out, you have to understand what’s happened to this point.”

  Gregg granted him the point with reluctance.

  Epps said, “You pay me to know what people are going to do even before they do it. That’s how I—”