“It will be my pleasure, sir! Afterward, may I threaten Joseph Warren again? Perhaps, even terrorize him?”
“What a splendid idea, Robert!” Henry sneered. “Now, the sooner you get on with my orders, the sooner you may go play! In the meantime, I shall speak with Gage and plan our next move toward inflaming this war.”
Constance McCaskey lingered near the living room door. She stepped aside to let Robert pass, then entered the room and presented herself to Henry. A satisfied smile played on her full lips. The general appeared a handsomer man than the last time they had met.
“Did you wish to see me, General?”
Henry rose. “Yes, I wish to see you in my bedchamber.”
She produced a demure smile, and said, “As you command.”
Brandon, Seamus, Jeremiah, Rufus, and Abe had a difficult time getting into Boston. After lingering outside the Neck, and observing all types of people trying to get in and out with no success, they decided to find a way to enter the city by water. The cover of night and slogging through shallow salt marshes slowed their unpleasant journey to the shore west of the Neck.
“Paul said the British man-of-war, the HMS Somerset, was anchored in the river near where he crossed to Charlestown on the night of the eighteenth,” Brandon said. He looked out over the ghostly moonlit water.
“There’s a battery to the north of the Neck,” Seamus said, “We gotta avoid that, too.”
“We ain’t gotta worry about bein’ seen because we ain’t got no boat,” Jeremiah said. He began walking the shore to search for anything that would solve their dilemma.
“If we can get to Joseph’s kids, how are we going to get them out of Boston?” Rufus asked.
“Let us solve one problem at a time,” Abe suggested. He watched Jeremiah’s retreating figure for a moment, and then followed him.
Seamus and Rufus walked along the shore in the opposite direction.
Brandon continued to look out over the river. He saw dim lantern lights here and there, which were an indication that long boats were patrolling the waters. That gave him an idea. He squatted and groped the ground for large rocks. When he found one, he stood up and threw it as far as possible out over the water. The splash wasn’t as loud as Brandon hoped, but he thought if he did it over and over again, someone in one of those patrol boats would hear it.
When Jeremiah and Abe returned from their unsuccessful search, Brandon had thrown a dozen rocks in the river. One of the lantern lights was moving toward the shore where he stood.
“Go get Seamus and Rufus,” Brandon said to Abe. “I’ve attracted the attention of a boat. It’s coming our way, and it’s probably a British long boat.”
Jeremiah double checked the pocket on his deerskin breeches for his skinning knife and shouldered his musket. Brandon had proved to be more resourceful than he thought was possible.
The others returned and prepared for the unknown occupants of the boat sliding toward them across the water.
When the lantern light grew close enough to see that it was indeed a British long boat, the five men stepped away from the water’s edge. The boat slid onto the shore. The men stepped further back from the lantern-illuminated shoreline.
Six British soldiers climbed out of the long boat. One soldier remained in the boat. He lit another lantern and handed it to a soldier on the shore.
Brandon and Seamus hoped they would see orange eyes among the soldiers, but there were none. They both agonized over killing the children of man for no other reason than to protect another man’s children. They watched as the six soldiers spread out along the shoreline. Yellow light from their lantern bobbed through the darkness.
Jeremiah ran toward the bow of the boat and fired his musket. There was a brief blaze of flint and gun powder before the ball struck and killed the soldier in the boat.
Abe and Rufus darted from the shadows, and shot and killed the two soldiers at the rear of the group.
The four remaining soldiers ran for the cover of the boat, but the bobbing lantern light betrayed their intent.
Jeremiah, Abe, and Rufus were reloading. Seamus knew that it was up to him and Brandon to cut the running soldiers down. He couldn’t see these soldiers any clearer than he could see the British soldiers through the haze on Lexington Green.
“I volunteered for this mission so I gotta do this,” he told himself, and raised his musket. He fired at the soldier carrying the lantern.
A man screamed, and the lantern tumbled to the ground.
I lured the men in that boat to their deaths. How could I have done that? Brandon thought.
Rufus fired again, but the shot went wide to the right.
Two soldiers jumped into the boat while one shoved the boat off the shore. Seamus and Abe ran for the boat. Abe shot the soldier who was pushing the boat in the head. The soldier fell into the boat.
Brandon discarded his guilt when the two remaining soldiers stood up and aimed their muskets at Seamus. One of the soldiers had orange eyes.
“Jeremiah, one of them is a demon!” Brandon shouted. He fired and hit the demon in one orange eye. Jeremiah shot out the other eye.
The demon howled. Flames and sparks spewed from its eyes. The living man it possessed burst into flames. He issued a long, agonizing scream.
The last surviving soldier quickly shed his heavy woolen coat. He jumped into the shallow water and swam away.
Brandon, Jeremiah, and Rufus ran to the boat. They tilted the boat until the burning man’s body fell overboard. Seamus and Abe pulled the other dead soldier out of the boat and laid his body in the long grasses several feet from the shore.
“I hesitated,” Brandon admitted to Seamus. “You need to take command.”
“No, Colm wants you in command.”
“Seamus, I—”
“Get in the boat,” Abe barked. “You can argue over who is in command later. We cannot let the soldier in the water get away.”
They climbed into the boat and doused the lantern. Rufus shoved the boat off the shore.
When they reached the swimming soldier, Jeremiah slid into the water and stabbed him to death with his skinning knife. The act made him feel like a murderer instead of a rebel fighting for the safety of a woman and four children.
Jeremiah heaved into the boat. He and Rufus rowed until the long boat became caught in the current of the outgoing tide. Using the oars, they guided the boat northward along the shore of Back Bay. It floated without a sound past the Common, where many of the King’s troops were bivouacked. Then, Seamus and Brandon took the oars and rowed to the far north shore of Back Bay. They landed just before dawn, faced with a new challenge—get to Joseph’s house without attracting attention from humans and demons alike.
Brandon cloaked his yellow aura. Seamus’ purple aura would be visible to any demon they encountered. They had to avoid Beacon Hill where Henry was quartered. In order to do that, they had to ensure they landed far enough north of Beacon Hill so they could take a direct easterly route from the shoreline toward Hanover Street and Joseph’s house.
They made their way east under a brilliant yellow and pink sunrise. The residents of Boston were up and about early. The streets were teeming with British soldiers.
As they approached the northern edge of Beacon Hill, they swung further north where they encountered a patrol. The ensign in charge of the patrol, Daniel Martin, had been a part of Major John Pitcairn’s vanguard in Lexington. Seamus’ beard and beaver felt hat stirred his memory.
Ensign Martin approached Seamus. “Are you enjoying your morning stroll, rebel?” The ensign’s eyes moved to the musket slung over Seamus’ shoulder. “More importantly, why are you walking the streets armed? Are you aware that is against the law?”
Damn! Seamus thought. How come none of us thought to leave our muskets in the boat?
The patrol encircled them and stripped the five men of their muskets. One of the soldiers saw Jeremiah’s skinning knife, and reached to pull it from the pocket on his breeche
s. Jeremiah snatched the soldier by the wrist, and warned, “Leave it.”
The soldier wrenched his wrist free of Jeremiah’s hand and stepped back.
Curious people gathered to watch the British harassment.
“I cannot believe you have the nerve to enter the city after what occurred two days ago,” Ensign Martin said to Seamus. “How did you get into Boston, and better yet, why are you here?”
Seamus made eye contact with the ensign and said, “Fuck you.”
That answer drew the attention of all the soldiers in the patrol. They stared at Seamus in disbelief.
Brandon began to back out of the circle. Jeremiah, Abe, and Rufus understood Seamus’ motive. They, too, took a step backward, and then another.
“You are not amusing, rebel,” Ensign Martin said. “Answer me.”
“You have my answer.” Seamus’ eyes stayed locked on the ensign when he stepped closer to him and said, “Fuck…you.”
Brandon was no longer amid the patrol. He turned and walked away in one smooth move. Jeremiah and Abe stepped out of the circle. Rufus stopped moving when his elbow hit a soldier’s forearm. The soldier pulled his red ponytail and jerked him forward. Jeremiah and Abe walked away.
Ensign Martin sighed as if he was sorry for what he was about to do. He said to Seamus, “Well, then, here is my answer.” The ensign turned with a pistol in his hand and shot Rufus in the forehead between his dark red eyebrows.
Blood ran into Rufus’ eyes and down his nose and cheeks. He raised a hand toward his face, but he could not maintain the motion, and his hand dropped to his side. His green eyes were filled with surprised pain.
The civilian onlookers scattered like frightened sparrows.
The British patrol fell apart when Rufus dropped to the ground. His body twitched.
Seamus felt the struggle Rufus’ soul endured as his body died. His instinct was to comfort Rufus, lead his soul to its egress, and call a reaper, but he had to avoid being detained. He turned and ran. It was a horrible burden on his angelic spirit.
Ensign Daniel Martin looked at the pistol in his hand as if it were a grotesque monster. He looked at the shocked soldiers under his command. What have I done? Daniel thought. The man I just killed was innocent.
“Sir,…you cannot…believe…what you just…did…was acceptable,” a young soldier stammered. His eyes shifted between Rufus’ body and Ensign Martin’s face.
Two soldiers of the patrol fled.
“Sir?”
Ensign Martin raised the pistol to his temple and fired.
The ensign’s quick death hurt Seamus’ spirit, but he kept running.
Brandon began running when he heard the first pistol discharge and didn’t stop until he reached Joseph’s front doorstep. He bent and put his hands on his knees so he could catch his breath. His angelic spirit felt Rufus’ soul struggle as his body died, and he forced himself not to return to comfort him.
He heard voices inside the house. The front door opened.
“Brandon?” William Eustis asked in surprise. William looked beyond Brandon and saw no one. “Come inside before you are seen.”
Brandon straightened up and stepped in the house. Jeremiah and Abe arrived before William closed the door. He let them inside.
“Why are you here?” William implored. “Is Dr. Warren all right?”
“He was when we left Roxbury yesterday,” Brandon said. “We’ve come to get his children and their nanny out of Boston. You shou’d probably leave, too.”
“William, who is here?” Mercy asked as she entered the living room. She faltered and said, “Oh.”
“Joseph sent these men to get you and the children out of Boston.”
She pressed a hand between her breasts. “Is Joseph safe?”
Brandon avoided eye contact. “As far as we know.”
Mercy’s sigh of relief filled the living room.
Jeremiah saw Brandon’s discomfort. He stepped forward. “I’m Jeremiah Killam, Miss Scollay. Joseph wants us ta take you and his kids ta Worcester.”
“Yes, now I remember,” William said, nodding. “Dr. Warren told me that his colleague, Dr. Elijah Dix might agree to shelter the children if anything happened. Mercy, get them packed and ready for the journey right away.”
“There ain’t gonna be no packin’,” Jeremiah said. “We’ll be lucky if we cain get you out of Boston with the clothes on your back.”
Joseph’s children ran into the living room. They stopped, and clung to their nanny when they realized the men speaking to Dr. Eustis were strangers. Elizabeth, Joseph’s oldest child, studied Brandon.
“There is no need to be frightened,” Mercy said. “These men are your father’s friends.”
The youngest child, two-year-old Mary, stuck her thumb in her mouth, buried her head in Mercy’s skirts, and began to cry.
Someone knocked on the front door.
The two middle children, Joseph and Richard, hid behind Mercy.
William opened the door and allowed Seamus inside. Seamus assessed the people in the living room. When he saw the children, he decided not to speak of Rufus’ death.
Elizabeth Warren took a step toward Brandon. He looked at the floor to avoid her probing blue eyes that looked so much like Joseph’s.
“Betsey, what are you doing?” Mercy asked. Chills ran down her spine. She remembered the child’s reverent reaction to Joseph’s new friend, Colm Bohannon, the night they were first introduced. Betsey appeared to have the same reaction to the handsome young man who kept his eyes downcast.
Elizabeth saw Brandon’s yellow aura.
Brandon was painfully aware of her sighting, and he was puzzled by the fact that she could see his aura when it was cloaked. He was unaware that Joseph had seen Colm’s aura the first time they met. Like father, like daughter.
“You are an angel just like father’s friend—Mr. Bohannon,” Elizabeth said. She turned and looked at Seamus. His purple aura was bright and strong. “As are you.”
Mercy was so in love with Joseph that she wanted to believe anything he or his children had faith in; whether it be angels and demons, or Heaven and Hell. She asked Brandon, “What do you want me to do?”
Brandon forced himself to look at her. But he had no answer to her question. They had no escape plan. How have we come to this? How have we come to protecting these humans from their own evil? We are merely soothers and beholders.
Seamus sensed the source of Brandon’s distress. He wondered the same thing. Then, Seamus realized that Jeremiah and Joseph had changed everything. The angels had taken Jeremiah’s loyalty for granted because it had been limited to their life on Garden Mountain, but that was no longer the case. Jeremiah had left the sanctuary of their home in Virginia despite knowing he could die defending them. Joseph had, thus far, given everything he had to Colm despite knowing the risks.
“William, maybe you can get them through the guard post on the Neck if you say you have to doctor someone,” Brandon suggested.
William said kindly, “I do not think they will believe that I need to bring four children and their nanny along to care for a patient. Furthermore, I promised Joseph that I would take care of his medical practice. Even if I can get out of Boston, I may not be able to get back in.”
“You gotta help us, William,” Seamus said. “After what just happened, we cain’t be walkin’ the streets with the children.”
“What do you mean by ‘what just happened?’” William asked evenly.
Seamus glanced at Mercy. “I’d rather not say just now.”
William looked at Mercy and the children clinging to her skirts. They were Joseph’s treasures. He owed Joseph their safety. “Mercy, take the children and feed them. Then, prepare them for a long journey.”
“Where are we going?” seven-year-old Joseph asked William.
He went to the boy and squatted so they could speak face to face. “You are going someplace where your father can visit.”
“Why can he not come home?
Where is he?”
William sighed. He looked up at Mercy and then at the other children. The three oldest children were waiting for his answer. He did not know where Joseph actually was, but it would be safe to assume he was in meetings with the Committee of Safety and the Provincial Congress.
“Your father is in important meetings that he cannot leave. Do as Mercy asks so we do not worry him. Can you do that?”
Young Joseph nodded.
Mercy pulled Mary away from her skirts and picked her up. She turned to go. Elizabeth looked at the angels one more time before she followed Mercy out of the living room.
William gave Seamus an expectant look. “What just happened?”
Seamus relayed the incidents.
Jeremiah and Abe were surprised by the ensign’s suicide.
“We gotta figure out how to get Rufus’ body to his family,” Brandon said.
“He is a widower with no children, just as I am,” Abe explained. “Do not risk yourselves to get his body home.”
“He ain’t got no family at all?” Jeremiah asked. He stroked his dark-blond beard to comfort himself for the first time in his life.
Abe shook his head. That sad fact quieted the room.
Finally, William asked, “What is our plan to get the children out of Boston?”
“We got here in a British long boat and landed on the shore of Back Bay,” Brandon said.
“The boat may not be there now,” Abe pointed out. “If soldiers have seen it, they have probably moved it.”
“Then we gotta go back and hide it,” Brandon said. “If it’s gone, then we’ll figure out something else. Seamus, you shou’d go. You can keep out of sight of demons while you keep the boat out of sight of the British.”
“And if the boat is gone?” William asked.
“I’ll find us another boat,” Seamus said, as if that was the obvious choice. “Either way, I’ll be waitin’ for you in Back Bay.”
William’s experiences were, for the most part, limited to church, school, administering medical care, and the occasional company of a lady. This dangerous mission sparked his adrenaline. He asked, “What should I do?”
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