by J. Y. Harris
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jacob idly watched as the two soldiers went about their business. The officer—Captain Pendragon—stowed his musket in the saddle of his horse and pulled out a paper from one of the saddlebags. The other one, the sergeant, tried not to look useless.
“Pssst!”
Jacob’s head snapped up with alertness, his eyes darting left and right.
“Pssst! Behind you, but don’t turn your head.”
He kept still.
“It’s me, Kris. Kristen,” said the low voice from right behind the trunk to which he was tied. The two British soldiers were quite a ways in front of him; as long as he didn’t make noise or try to move, Jacob didn’t think they’d pay any attention to him or otherwise bother with him.
He put his head down and to the side.
“What are you doing here? Get away, the both of you.”
“No way. We’re Americans. We don’t leave our friends behind.”
“Look, I have no idea what that means, although it sounds nice. But I’ll be fine. I’ve got a plan.”
“Yeah? What’s your plan?”
“Well, actually… My only plan is to try to come up with a plan. But I will.”
Jacob felt tugging on the rope binding his wrists behind him. Suddenly it went slack.
“Now, don’t move,” Kristen whispered. “Pretend the ropes are still in place. You’ll know when to make your move.”
“When?”
“You’ll know it when it happens. It’ll be very startling, but don’t hesitate. Just run into the forest to your right. That’s important—to your right. Capiche?”
“What?”
“You got it?”
“Got what?”
He heard a sigh. “Do you understand?”
“Oh. Yes, I understand. Run to the right.”
“Bingo. Now wait for the signal.”
A slight rustle of bushes, and he knew she was gone.
Jacob turned his attention back to the Redcoats. The torch had been stuck into a convenient rabbit hole at the edge of the road, giving enough light for the two soldiers to go about their business.
Captain Pendragon’s uniform had the buff facings of the 22nd Regiment. Last Jacob had heard, that regiment had been up near New York City. Pendragon must be travelling to Philadelphia for a reason. And taking a roundabout way to get there. The captain was still perusing the paper he’d taken out of his saddlebag.
The sergeant was inspecting the knife he’d taken from Jacob earlier, before he’d tied him up. The man looked over at the captive and grinned smugly. He used the point of Jacob’s knife to clear dirt from underneath his gritty fingernails.
Jacob’s arms ached to smack that satisfied look off his ugly face. Well, he might not get a chance to do that, once the ‘signal’—whatever it was—finally came. But if the opportunity presented itself….
The British captain folded the paper he’d been looking at and opened his saddlebag to return it.
Suddenly the air seemed to explode with a deafening noise. A bright light appeared from above, from high up in the trees.
In front of him, Jacob saw the two soldiers seemingly frozen in a circle of white light, both looking up in confusion. The sergeant dropped Jacob’s knife, and Captain Pendragon tucked the folded paper into the pocket of his saddlebag with one hand, even while his gaze was drawn upward.
The thunderous sound came again in another bone-rattling explosion. The captain’s horse danced and sidestepped nervously, snorting in confusion.
This must be it, Jacob thought. This must be the signal. If it’s not, then it’s some unbelievable coincidence, but in either case, it’s about as good of a distraction as I’m likely to get.
He kicked off the rope that lay slack around his ankles. The other rope, the one that had bound his wrists behind the tree trunk, he stuffed into his coat pocket. Good rope was expensive; he could always use an extra length.
Jacob surged forward. He knew the plan was for him to dive to the right and run, but he had something to do first.
He scooped up the knife—his knife—from where that clod of a sergeant had dropped it. Then, in one fluid movement, Jacob grabbed the paper that Captain Pendragon had tried to stow back in the saddlebag. The sheet was only half inside the pocket of the leather bag, with one corner conveniently ripe for plucking; the horse’s nervous dancing had probably kept it from falling into place where it belonged. Jacob also slipped the horse’s rein from around the low shrub over which it had been tossed, and slapped the animal’s rump.
What with the sudden noise and confusion, the horse needed no further urging to bolt.
Only then did Jacob run in the direction in which he’d been instructed to go.
As he ducked into the trees, Jacob heard a commotion behind him. He heard a shout, and the sergeant’s voice bleating something about an ‘escape.’ The impulsive seconds he’d spent retrieving his knife and the Captain’s paper had obviously cost him dearly, as it had also alerted the soldiers to his activity. The Brits would surely be hot on his heels.
However, as he dodged his way through the trees, Jacob became aware there were no sounds of pursuit behind him. He stopped and looked back.
The strange noise had stopped, and as he stood there and watched, the white circle of light from above disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving the forest and road darker than ever. In the distance—in the opposite direction from where he was, and to the left of where he’d been tied to the tree—he heard a commotion in the forest, and raised voices.
Either Kristen or Brad had drawn off the soldiers in that direction, pretending to be him. Where the other sibling was—and what that bright light and thunderous noise had been—he didn’t know.
Jacob resumed his trek in the direction he’d been going, stealthily, quietly, but at a more leisurely pace.
After a while he stopped, and gave the bird whistle signal. It was answered immediately from not very far away, and seconds later he saw Brad Everheart approach in the deepening gloom.
“Glad you’re okay,” Brad said, slapping him on the shoulder. “You threw us for a loop back there, when you didn’t run immediately into the woods.”
Jacob didn’t know what ‘loop’ Brad was talking about, but he was pretty sure he understood what the other boy meant.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I had to retrieve a few things from the soldiers.”
“What did they take from you?”
“My knife—and my pride. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let them catch me.”
“There wasn’t much you could’ve done about that,” Brad replied. “Kris and I saw the whole thing from the woods. We tried to get your attention, to let you know the two people you saw weren’t us, but we were too far away. I even threw a rock that landed somewhere near you, to try to get your attention.”
“Once I discovered they weren’t you, I should have bolted.”
Brad shook his head. “That would only have guaranteed them coming after you. By stopping and cooperating, you had a fifty-fifty chance that they’d let you go. You had no way of knowing they’d tie you up.”
This was all what Jacob had figured, too. His chagrin at walking into the situation was mollified by the fact that, not only did he get away—with some help, of course—but he also managed to get away with a souvenir. He patted the pocket that held the document that Captain Pendragon had been perusing.
He had no idea what it was: it could be a list of garments the captain had sent to the laundry, or a letter from his wife, or something equally innocuous.
On the other hand, it could be a battle map, or a list of troop movements, or suggested supply routes.
Whatever it was, Major Clark would certainly like to see it.
Jacob changed the subject. “Where’s Miss Everheart?”
“She should be here soon,” Brad replied. He sounded the bird call again.
The two boys wer
e silent for a moment or two, listening, but all they heard were the sounds of the forest. Then, just when Jacob was wondering why Brad wasn’t concerned for his sister, and why the two of them had been separated to begin with, he heard a slight rustle of leaves and brush.
He tensed, wondering if, rather than being Kristen, it could be one of the British soldiers approaching. He and Brad hadn’t exactly been whispering their conversation just now.
That thought was dispelled, however, when Kristen came into view, disheveled and breathing a bit heavily.
“Boy, that was fun!” she declared, her smile just visible in the darkness.
“What was fun?” Jacob asked.
“Running. It’s a little dicey, tearing through the woods—at night—but that’s what made it exciting. Hoo!” She let out another breath. “Wicked fun!”
Jacob pointed at her. “So you’re the one who led the soldiers away?”
“Yep. They’re so far gone in the other direction, they’re probably halfway back to where they started from.”
“So if you were leading them in the other direction,” Jacob said, while pointing to Kristen, “then what were you doing?” And he pointed to Brad with his other hand.
“Me? I provided the distraction.”
Jacob’s eyebrows rose. “Not the strange light and that awful sound?”
“Yep, that was yours truly.”
“But how--?”
Brad clapped him on the shoulder. “You don’t want to know. Let’s just say it involved reviving my childhood tree-climbing skills and the wonders of an LED flashlight.”
Jacob was about to ask another question—like what in heaven’s name an LED flashlight was—when Kristen spoke up.
“Look, I know I did a primo job of leading those lobsterbacks into the next zip code, but let’s not press our luck by standing here yakking. Let’s head back toward the tavern, shall we?”
The boys agreed, and the trio set out together in the appropriate direction.
Jacob fell into step with Kristen. “So you really led the soldiers through the forest?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “It would’ve been easier if I could have seen where I was going; running in this kind of terrain in the dark is tough. But if I couldn’t see much, neither could they. So I guess it all evened out.”
“You must be pretty fast.”
She shrugged. “Middle school track champion. Although I would have been faster if I hadn’t been wearing this friggin’ dress.”
Jacob tried not to think about the girl next to him not wearing that dress, or what she would have preferred to be wearing (or not wearing) instead.
“I’m telling you, Kris,” Brad said from behind them, “you need to try out for the high school jay-vee track team in the spring. You’ve got it in you.”
“Eh, maybe.” To Jacob she said, “Where we come from, we run for sport.”
“Really? So you run foot-races? The girls too?”
“Yep, girls too.”
“Must be difficult running in those long, heavy skirts.”
Kristen flashed him a smile. “I won’t get into details of how we run, but let’s just say the long skirts are not a problem.”
Brad spoke up. “Hey, Jake, I guess everything went okay? Earlier, I mean, with Rebecca.”
“Yep, just like you planned. The soldiers went to follow the unexpected orders, and Miss Darrow and I slipped past from Germantown Road and into the city.”
“Did you run into anyone on the street?” Kristen asked.
“No, we saw no one. We came up on some buildings—I don’t know if they were houses or not—and I left Miss Darrow to slip through a side yard into the cross-street on the other side. I waited a few minutes to be sure she wasn’t discovered, but nobody raised an alarm or called out. All was quiet.”
“Well, I guess no news is good news,” she replied.
Brad nodded in the deepening dusk. “And I guess that since we have no way of finding out exactly what happened with her—if she got to her friend’s house, if she’ll be questioned—there’s nothing for us to do except be on our way.”
The three young people walked quietly for a moment, and soon came to a road, rougher and not as well travelled as Germantown Road had been. As if by some unspoken agreement, they moved to walk in the grass alongside. It wasn’t likely there would be any traffic on this road at night, even though there was a three-quarter moon, but there was no reason to take chances.
Jacob was no doubt thinking of getting back to the tavern; a hot meal, a warm fire, and a comfortable bed awaited him there. Or at least, whatever passed for ‘comfortable’ in these times, Kristen thought. To her, a colonial bed would probably look like a giant bedspread stuffed with straw. But she’d be glad for a hot meal and a warm fire herself.
And as for a bed… well, there was no point in even thinking about that. Her own bed, with its brightly-colored spread, not to mention the stuffed tiger and giraffe incongruously standing guard together on the matching pillow… that comfort was miles away. Sort of.
She pushed thoughts of it aside… as well as thoughts of the dining-room table, which she would give her right arm to be able to set for dinner—never mind the fact that she normally tried to squirm out of that duty whenever it was her turn to do so. But the thought of doing such a mundane, ordinary task was like gold to her now.
Now… when she felt like she’d never have the chance to do it again.
Be careful what you wish for….
Jacob and Brad had kept up a desultory conversation as they walked. Talking because there was not much else to do, yet not wanting to talk because there was not much to say. Plus, they were all tired. Sure, these colonials were used to walking a lot, but still, dealing with covert agents, sneaking through the forest, tracking soldiers who were AWOL… it sure does wear a body out.
Not to mention tricking people, luring them away from one spot and to another, and sneaking into a city.
Yeah, all in all, it had been a pretty full day.
After they’d walked a couple miles, Jacob said, “It’s time to quit following the road. The quickest way for me to get back to the tavern is to go through the forest.”
“Yeah,” Brad said, looking around. “This is about where we came out of the woods before, when you and Rebecca went to the mill for flour, and Kris and I waited for you.”
The three teens entered the forest, with Jacob leading the way in the silvery moonlight. As she had done earlier, Kristen followed immediately behind her brother, practically on his heels, so she wouldn’t trip in the uneven, leaf-strewn ground.
Funny how she’d had no trouble running hell-for-leather through the forest earlier, but now she was being careful where she stepped. And earlier she’d complained to her brother about this very thing.
What a difference an hour makes. Not to mention the adrenaline rush of a good plan executed in the dark.
Now that the adrenaline was no longer pumping through her veins, Kristen’s spirits were sinking by the minute. On one hand, she expected—she knew—that she and Brad would somehow find their way back to their own time. She didn’t know—didn’t care—if this ‘knowing’ came from real conviction, a knowledge deep in her soul, like a hardwired message from the cosmos… or if she believed it simply because she had to, for sanity’s sake. Because the alternative was too awful to contemplate.
Her and Brad’s being stuck in this time anomaly was bad enough—no TV, no cars, no heat, no family or friends…or cellphones with which to call them—but worst of all, the thing that upset her the most was: her parents.
If necessary, Kris knew that she and Brad could survive in this time period. It’s not like they could change things, or alter the circumstances or technology of the eighteenth century, so they’d adapt to it, if only because they had to, had no other choice. It wouldn’t be fun, and they wouldn’t enjoy it or choose it, but they could do it.
But the thought of
what their parents would go through—are probably going through right now…. She hated to think of it. She and Brad had left that morning—a Saturday, when they usually both slept in, like most lazy kids their age—to go to a local park for an historical re-enactment.
They were teenagers, two healthy, intelligent, capable teenagers. The fact that two teens could both disappear into thin air—or, in this case, fog—was probably going to be the most perplexing thing of all. One person, especially a child, would be one thing; he or she could wander off or be lured away. Even a lone teenager could be believed: a secret plan to meet a friend, or perhaps even run away for some ridiculous reason.
But two teens? That never happens.
All Kristen knew was that her mom and dad would be worried to death, and would move heaven and earth to find them.
For their sake, she didn’t want to contemplate the notion that she and Brad would never get home. It was just not an option that she would consider.
Cutting into her gloomy thoughts, Brad said “Watch out for this—”
Whack!
“—branch.”
Just like in a cartoon, she thought wryly.
“Thanks,” she said. “That warning helped. What’s another tear in this skirt, anyway?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I had already stepped past the branch when I saw it.”
“You two all right back here?” Jacob asked, stopping to turn back to them.
“We’ll be fine. Just a bit of a wardrobe malfunction.”
Even in the moonlight Kristen could see Jacob’s confusion.
“It’s nothing,” she assured him.
“Still, I apologize. Traipsing through the forest is not new to me, even at night. I forget that others aren’t as used to it as I am.”
“You’re a capable guy,” Kristen said. “And that’s a good thing. No need to apologize for it.”
He smiled, easily visible in the moonlight. “Speaking of capable, you two aren’t bad yourselves. You scared those deserters out of spying on General Washington’s army, you lured away those soldiers guarding the road into Philadelphia… and you provided a distraction for me to get away a while ago.” He looked at them shrewdly. “And I’d still like to know why you won’t discuss how you did any of those things.”
Brad shrugged. “Oh, come on. You must’ve heard me pretending to be an officer, barking orders at those guys.”
“Yes, I heard that. I also heard other voices. Voices that did not come from you.”
Kristen put her hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “We have a saying where we’re from: ‘I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.’”
“What kind of saying is that?”
She shrugged and the three of them started walking again. “I thought it was pretty self-explanatory. It’s an old spy saying.” She held up a hand. “Not that we’re spies. Because we’re not.”
“Of course not. You just talk about them a lot.”
“Actually, we do,” Brad put in, a bit impatient to end this conversation. “Our culture celebrates those who work for justice and freedom, even if that work is carried out in secret. Now, let’s drop the subject and talk about—”
He stopped abruptly and grabbed his sister’s arm.
“What?” she asked irritably, pulling her arm away.
“Look.” Brad nodded his head to indicate the appropriate direction.
Both she and Jacob turned to see what had gotten Brad’s attention.
Moonlight filtering through the tall leafless trees faintly illuminated the forest floor. There was nothing unusual about that. And yet at some distance in the forest, the light was reflecting dully off of something.
“So?” Jacob asked, shrugging. “It’s just fog. Although it doesn’t seem to be the right kind of weather for fog….” His voice trailed off, as he realized the other two weren’t really listening. He continued to look at the Everhearts, not understanding their reaction to the evening’s weather.
“That’s because… it’s not just fog,” Brad said. He looked at Kristen, who looked a little frightened.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, listen, Jacob, we have to go,” he said
“I thought we were going,” the other boy replied, gesturing in the direction they’d been travelling.
“We were. But now have to go this way. Kris and I, that is.”
“Into the fog?”
“Yes, into the fog.”
“Is that where you’re meeting your friends?”
“God, I hope so,” Kristen muttered.
“Yes. Now listen,” Brad said, turning his full attention to Jacob. “We have to go. You can’t follow us. Whatever you do, do not walk into or toward that fog.”
“But why would—”
“It doesn’t matter. Just promise me.”
Jacob clearly didn’t understand why it was important that he not walk that way, in the direction of the fog, but apparently thought better of questioning it.
“Yes, I promise. I won’t go near the fog.”
“You’ll go directly back to the tavern?” Brad pressed.
“Yes. If it’s so important to you, then that’s what I’ll do. You have my word.”
“Thank you. I know this sounds crazy and strange….”
“Well, it’s been that kind of day,” Jacob said, smiling ruefully.
“Yes. Yes, it has.” Brad put his hand out. “You’ve been a good friend today, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”
Jacob shook his hand. “Actually, most of what I did, I did for Miss Darrow, at the request of Major Clark. You and Miss Everheart just happened to be with her. To tag along, so to speak.”
“True, but still. Considering the role that Rebecca—Miss Darrow—played in these events today, and in the battle of White Marsh, it was important.”
“The Battle of White Marsh? Is that what the attack will be called?”
Kristen spoke up. “Actually, thanks to her warning—or rather, the confirmation—it’ll be less of an attack and more of a battle, since General Washington has been appropriately warned. And yes, it will be known as the Battle of White Marsh.”
Jacob nodded and took Kristen’s hand. He bowed over it and then kept hold of it slightly longer than necessary as he looked at her.
“Take care, Miss Everheart,” he said.
He turned to start on his way—away from the fog—but then turned back. “I’m not going to see either of you again, am I?” he said, making it more of a statement than a question. “And you’re really not from around here, are you?”
Brad smiled. “No, we’re not.”
“Then farewell to you both.”
With a final wave, Jacob turned and disappeared once again into the trees.
Brad and Kristen were silent for a moment, looking at the point at which Jacob Tyson had melted into the forest. Then they looked at each other and turned toward the eerie mist.
“I’m almost afraid to do this,” Kristen said. “What if it turns out to be just…fog?”
“Then we’ll deal,” Brad said firmly. “But being afraid is no reason not to try.”
She nodded. “I’m ready.”
