by E. E. Borton
“I’m not a fan of cities,” I said. “It was hell in Atlanta the day after. I can’t imagine what it’s like now. None of you can either.”
“Looks like the tables have turned,” said Gunny. “You having second thoughts?”
“I just told Daniel he could trust me with his life,” I said. “I can’t guarantee anything if we go through the city.”
“This time is gonna to be different,” said JD. “Last time you went alone. Nobody had your back. You didn’t have us.”
“One of your biggest obstacles is going to be the river,” said Gunny, pointing at the map. “You’re going to be on the wrong side of it. The train is going to drop you off about two miles south of the bridges and head back here. Once you get to the other side – and how you do that I have no idea – it’s a nine-mile hike to the ambush point in the valley.”
“We’ll be doing it on fresh legs through easy terrain,” said Doug. “Castle may be on one of the wagons, but his men won’t be. They’ll be on foot to reduce weight. His men and horses are going to be exhausted by that point. I know the route they’re taking. It goes through a national forest, and it’s mostly uphill.”
“It all looks good on paper,” I said, “but it’s going to take more time getting through Chattanooga than you think. We’ll be going straight through downtown. We will find trouble there. I can promise you that as well.”
“None of us are naïve, Henry,” said Doug. “We’ll do our best to avoid it. If we can’t, we’ll sort it out and press on. This is the only way to get out ahead of them.”
“JD told me about your requirements before we can leave, Gunny,” I said, smiling at Doug. “We’re not going to have the time to spare on my uncle’s funeral and a whole day with our families. We need to get moving now. We still have to recover my uncle’s body and take him home. That’s an entire day lost right there.”
“Lost,” said Gunny, standing up straight. “You told me your head was in the right place. Now I’m thinking different.”
“Gunny, come on. You know –”
“I know this isn’t about you!” said Gunny, slamming his fist onto the table. “It’s about respect for our dead. It’s about giving our people and Perry’s wife and children a chance to say goodbye to him. It’s about giving these boys here a chance to spend time with their families before they have to say goodbye again. Families they may never see again. These things may not be important to you, but it sure as hell is important to them. This isn’t about you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got a lot on your mind, son,” said Gunny, lowering his tone, “and a lot you need to get off your chest before I’m comfortable sending you out there with these men. That part is about you. You can’t see it right now, but you need to do this. You need to go home.”
One of these days I’m going to learn to think before I speak. Obviously, today wasn’t the day. As I looked at their faces again, I realized there would be no argument from them. They wanted to go home. I wondered why I didn’t feel the same way.
“I’ve already sent word to bring the train here,” said Gunny, “and I’ve already sent some men to go get your uncle. They’ll both be here soon. We’ll take him home tonight and bury him tomorrow. Get some rest and be ready to go the morning after. You’ll leave from the station in Stevenson. I’ll be riding with you to Chattanooga. After that, you boys are on your own.”
“Roger that, Gunny,” said Doug. “If that train is on its way, we need to start humping supplies and gear to the tracks. We now have twice the weapons and ammo we came with.”
“They’ve already started,” said Gunny, “but you men need to go give them a hand.”
As they filed out of the room, Gunny grabbed my arm. I had a feeling he wasn’t finished with me. I don’t always like it when I’m right.
“JD told me about your new friend Captain Braun,” said Gunny, releasing my arm. “In my day, you’d be court-martialed and put under the jail. You may have thought you had good reasons to keep that information from me, but they were all wrong. Dead wrong.
“You jeopardized my life and the life of every man out there based on a hunch. It worked out for you today, but if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll bury you. Do you understand me?”
“I do, Gunny,” I said, extending my hand. “It won’t happen again. You have my word.”
“Good,” said Gunny, shaking my hand. “That still works for me.”
We gathered the maps from the table and left the room. As Gunny and I turned the corner of the building, I could see a group of men carrying a stretcher across the dam. We both stood in silence as they stopped in front of us and set him down as if he were made of glass. I was relieved and heartbroken at the same time to see my uncle again.
Gunny was right as usual. I needed to be the one to take him home.
Chapter 24
A Trail of Tears
JD and Tucker joined us when they heard that Perry had been recovered. I pulled back the blanket covering his body. It was impossible for me to stop the flood of images raging through my head of the moment he was killed. Seeing the gaping wound across his throat and clothes stained with his blood brought back images of Samantha as well. It was as if it had happened yesterday.
Everyone called her Sam. She was grace personified. Heads would turn when she walked into a room. I didn’t mind when other men stared. I did the same thing when I walked into my local pub on her first day of work. It took me three months to work up the courage to ask her out on a date. She asked me what took so long.
I wanted to be hers for the rest of my life. Marriage had never crossed my mind until Sam. I had never thought about a white picket fence and kids swinging in the backyard. She changed that for me. I bought the ring and booked our vacation where I would propose. Nine days before we were scheduled to leave, the first of many citywide blackouts plunged Atlanta into total darkness and chaos.
I was too late. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I’m sure the thugs would have killed me as well. For years, I wished that they had. I was the one who found her broken, lifeless, naked body on top of a buffet table. Her last moments were filled with violence, agony, and terror. Even if I had been with her at that moment, I wouldn’t have known what to do. I would have been helpless to stop them.
I wasn’t a fighter. I was never in the military or law enforcement. I wrote children’s books for a living. I didn’t carry a knife or a gun. I didn’t know how to use either. I would have fought them until my inevitable last breath, but they would have finished me off with ease and moved on to her. I would spend the next three years of my life changing that. I vowed that I would never feel helpless again. As I stared down at my uncle, I did.
He was contorted from being tossed into a dumpster, and rigor mortis had stiffened his body. It took JD and I several minutes of repetitive movement to relax his muscles. When we finished, he looked more at peace lying flat on the stretcher. Gunny and Tucker became the other two pallbearers and we took cautious steps getting him to the tracks. Every man around us stopped working, removed their hats, and placed their hands over their hearts as we passed.
On a day that seemed to last an eternity, the sun decided it was time to rest and started its slow descent behind the mountains. As it did, steam rose from the treetops a mile down the tracks. The sound of the giant piston thumping in the belly of the engine could be heard moments later. My belly tightened at the thought of it bringing me closer to facing my family in Stevenson.
“We’ll stop in Bridgeport long enough to offload the men and supplies,” said Gunny, sensing my tension. “I’d like to take him all the way home to his family with you, if you don’t mind.”
“We’d like to go as well,” said JD, nodding at Tucker.
“If that’s okay,” said Tucker.
I couldn’t speak through the lump in my throat. I nodded back at them. I knew what they were doing, and I didn’t know how to express m
y appreciation. I made a silent promise to do my best to find a way when it was over. There wasn’t much in this world that I needed. Even less that I wanted. But at that moment, I needed them. All of them.
As the train slowed, I could see Parker leaning out of the cabin while Bruce worked the brake. A few of the men had superficial wounds from ricochets and shrapnel, but there was only one covered stretcher lying beside the tracks.
The train hissed to a stop, and they climbed down from the engine. I could see movement inside the first passenger car, but Bruce and Parker were the first to approach us. JD pulled back the blanket before the question was asked.
“Aw, hell, son,” said Parker, taking off his hat. “I’m so sorry.”
“God rest your soul, Perry,” said Bruce, kneeling beside him.
“Henry,” said a soft voice beside me as I stared at the ground.
When I lifted my head, tears spilled down my face. Doc was standing beside her. I didn’t see them get off the train, and I was confused. It was as if I were looking at ghosts. She waited for me to reach out for her. Kelly dove into me and I was confused again. My arms figured it out before my brain did, and they tightened their grip around her. I was expecting anger and disappointment. She gave me neither.
She pulled away from me after a long embrace. Reaching up to my face with both hands, she wiped away my tears. She smiled as best she could and then turned toward Perry. She didn’t try to wipe away her own tears. She just let them fall as she knelt beside him. Taking his hand in hers, she leaned over and kissed him on his forehead. She tried to straighten his hair, but it was matted with dried blood.
“We can’t let Donna see him like this,” whispered Kelly, crying. “We have to clean him up, Doc.”
“Yes, we do, young lady,” said Doc, knelling beside her. “We’ll take care of him on the train.”
“Are these all the wounded?” asked Doc, standing and looking at a group of men being helped to their feet.
“Yes,” said, Gunny. “Perry is the only casualty.”
“The militia?”
“Five survivors,” said Gunny. “No fight left in them, so we cut them loose. A handful escaped. Over eighty of them dead.”
“Good Lord, Gunny,” said Doc, shaking his head. “May God have mercy on their souls.”
“I’m sorry, Doc,” said Gunny. “We didn’t have the luxury of mercy.”
“I know,” said Doc, patting Gunny’s arm. “They left you no choice. Thank you for getting all your men home safe to their families. They’ll all be grateful for what you did.”
“All but one,” said Gunny.
“That wasn’t your fault,” said Doc. “He tried to reason with them, didn’t he?”
“Yeah,” said Gunny. “He and this one walked right into their camp unarmed and looking for a peaceful resolution. They gave us their answer.”
“You were with him, Henry?” asked Doc. “When he was killed?”
“Yes,” I said, lowering my head. “There was nothing I could do, Doc. I swear, I –”
“Hey,” said Doc, pushing my chin up. “I know you, son. We all know you. You don’t have to explain yourself to me or anyone else. I’m so sorry you were there, but I’m thankful he wasn’t alone.”
Our men loaded the equipment and supplies into the second car, but nobody boarded. They left plenty of room for the first passenger. As Doc and Kelly triaged the wounded, Gunny, JD, Tucker, and I settled my uncle into place. When they finished and joined us, the men took their seats in the first car. In an instant, they transformed from warriors into fathers, sons, and brothers who wanted nothing more than to go home to their families.
As the gears lurched into reverse, darkness enveloped the train. Gunny lit several lanterns as Doc prepared his suture kit. Kelly poured water through Perry’s hair, and JD and Tucker removed his stained shirt. I wiped the last traces of blood from his face, and then Doc placed a bandage over Perry’s neck to cover the violence of his death. For the rest of the trip back to Bridgeport, Kelly didn’t let go of my uncle’s hand.
We could see the glow of the torches and lanterns as we approached the station. Gunny gave instructions to the men who left earlier to summon the train not to reveal the loss of Perry. He wanted there to be no chance the news would spread to Stevenson before they brought him to his family.
As we came to a halt, we could hear the joyous reunions of the men of Bridgeport and their loved ones. Gunny stayed with us. After a few minutes, the crowd grew silent, and their attention was turned to the second car. We heard gentle sobbing as Gunny stepped onto the platform and made the official announcement that there was a casualty.
A few townspeople who had been close to Perry paid their respects, but most stayed outside in silent prayer. The equipment and supplies were removed from the car, and then Gunny returned to us. The men of Stevenson retook their seats, and once again we were on our way. It was a different scene as we approached the station in our town.
Stevenson had no idea we were returning. They had no idea the battle was over or what the outcome was of the fight. They were completely in the dark. A few people who heard the train approaching gathered at the station, but most were still in their homes, including Donna, River, and Joey.
Without needing any instruction, the men of Stevenson kept their seats. I could sense that the small crowd knew something was wrong. As they stretched their necks to catch a glimpse of the one they were waiting – worrying – for, JD slid open the car door. We removed Perry from the train. We were greeted with solemn faces and open sobbing.
We waited at the edge of the ramp to the platform for all the men to disembark. After a few brief hugs and kisses, they formed a procession behind us. We placed the stretcher onto a cart we used to move supplies to the train. Men with lanterns flanked us as we marched him home.
We stopped short of the house and dimmed the lanterns. Most of the people disappeared into the dark to give the family privacy when they discovered their loss, but enough stayed to conceal the cart behind them. We wanted a moment alone with his family before we brought him to rest inside.
It was the longest walk of my life from the front gate to the steps of the porch. Kelly squeezed my hand as we waited for Doc, Gunny, JD, and Tucker to join us at the door. I took a deep breath and knocked.
When River opened it, she had a beaming smile on her face when she saw ours. It disappeared when she couldn’t find the one she was looking for. Joey came up behind her and didn’t hesitate to ask about his father.
“Where’s my dad?” asked Joey, pushing through us.
River froze. Tears erupted. The moment I dreaded had arrived.
Joey tried to push through Gunny and JD, but was met with strong arms that stopped him. Gunny said something in his ear and Joey went limp. The arms that stopped him were holding him up. Donna came to the doorway and stood beside River. She knew why we were there.
“Where is he?” asked Donna, putting her arm around River. “Where’s my husband, Henry?”
“He’s with us,” I said, turning to the small crowd in the street.
“It’s freezing out here,” said Donna, clearing her throat. “Bring him inside, please.”
Donna turned River around and walked her inside. Gunny and JD did the same for Joey. Doc and Tucker stayed with the family in the living room as Kelly cleared the dining room table. When she nodded, we brought him inside.
When he was settled, I covered him with his favorite blanket that he kept by his chair in the den. I smoothed down his hair and then made my way to the living room. Donna stood, wiped away a tear, and then straightened her dress. She took a deep breath and then reached out for my hand. I walked her the short distance to the man who stole her heart and never gave it back.
She pulled the blanket up to his chin and tucked it in around his shoulders. She whispered in his ear, and I stepped back into the corner of the room. She kissed him, wrapped her arm around his broad shoulder, and laid her head on his chest.
&nbs
p; I felt a hand take mine. I pulled Kelly in close as more tears filled our eyes. She stood on her toes to reach my ear.
“Promise you’ll never leave me again.”
Chapter 25
A Dish Best Served Cold
River and Joey joined their mother in the dining room to have their last moments alone with both of their parents. The rest of us sat in silence in the living room. It never ceases to amaze me how selfish I can be and how hard I try to convince myself that I’m not. None of this was about me.
This was where I needed to be. This was where my uncle would want me to be. This is the last place on earth where I thought I should be. I wondered how many more times I was going to be wrong about people before I stopped trying to figure them out.
I was convinced that they would throw me out of the house and disown me forever, that they would hate me for not saving the life of the man who saved mine. In their eyes, I would be a failure and disgrace to the family. They would blame me for his death. Kelly would never want to see my face again as long as she lived. None of that happened.
I stood and walked to the window when I noticed a dim light outside getting brighter. Everyone in the room joined me when they noticed as well. It looked like the entire town was gathered in front of Perry’s house. In every hand was a candle, lantern, or torch. The lights seemed to turn night into day. It was beautiful.
“This town loved him,” said Kelly. “There’s not one life out there that he didn’t make better.”
“He gave up his for them,” said JD, “and they know that. That’s why they’re here now.”
“And he loved all of them,” said Donna, coming up behind us with her children. “He loved this town his whole life. He’d help anyone that came to our door. Anyone. My Perry was a good man with a good heart.”
“He was a great man, Donna,” said Doc. “Stubborn as the day is long, but a great, great man.”
“Lord, don’t I know it,” said Donna, forcing a smile.
