Soul Catcher (26 page)

^{"You don't have no rights to nothin'," she cried, the first actual words from her mouth.}

^{"Please. I don't want to hurt you. Put the knife down."}

^{"You want me, soul catcher," she said, through clenched teeth, her eyes gleaming with anger, "you gonna have to kill me first."}

^{She made a couple of short jabs at his belly, more a feint than anything, trying to draw him closer. For a while she was patient, waiting for him to make a wrong move. But then she made her first mistake-- she lunged at him from too far away, aiming for his throat but falling just inches short. He was able to parry the blow with his blackjack, grab hold of the wrist wielding the blade, and bend her arm down sharply over his thigh, forcing her to cry out in pain. He easily wrested the knife from her hand, though she still wasn't ready to give up the fight. She tried to strike him with her free hand, tried to gouge his eyes, and she nearly missed kicking him in the groin. But he was able to twist her arm around behind her back, and get some measure of control over her.}

^{"Stop, goddamn you," Cain cried. "It's over."}

^{She continued to struggle, though, to squirm in his grasp. Finally, Strofe came up and wrapped her in his powerful embrace and squeezed her hard. Only then did she quiet down.}

^{"Wondering when the hell you were of a mind to join in," Cain said.}

^{"Thought you had it all under control," the big man said, laughing.}

^{"You got her good?" Cain asked.}

^{"I got her."}

^{"That you, Strofe, you bastard?" the woman cursed.}

^{"Yeah, it's me, Rosetta," he replied, dragging her down toward where the horses were tied near the water.}

^{Yet as they headed down the slope, she managed to slip her mouth under Strofe's hand and sink her teeth into his thumb.}

^{"Dang you, Rosetta!" he cried, pulling his hand back. She squirmed out of his grasp and started to scramble up toward the road, but Cain grabbed an ankle and pulled her down, then took hold of her hair and yanked it hard.}

^{"Ahhhh!" she cried. "Buckra devil."}

^{"Here," Cain commanded Strofe, "hold her." He went down to his horse and got some rope and a burlap bag from his saddlebags. He returned and began to tie her up.}

^{"Get her shawl," Cain told Strofe.}

^{About then they heard the pounding of hoofbeats on the bridge as two men on horseback approached from the east.}

^{"What's going on down there?" one of them called, trying to see into the shadows below. He had a bay horse with one white stocking.}

^{"Nothing," Strofe said, his hand covering the woman's mouth.}

^{"Anything wrong?" the other asked.}

^{"Everything's just fine," Cain said. "Thank you for your concern."}

^{The two riders whispered among themselves for a moment. "Well, if you don't mind, we'll take a look for ourselves."}

^{"I wouldn't do that, mister," Cain said.}

^{"No. And why's that?" said the first as he started to dismount.}

^{Cain pulled his gun and sent a round zipping just past the man's ear. The two wheeled their horses about and spurred them hard back across the bridge.}

^{Cain finished tying her and then he pulled the burlap bag over her head and shoulders. He carried her to his horse and draped her across Hermes's back. Then he climbed into the saddle. They rode hard to the camp where Preacher and Little Strofe were sleeping. When they came riding in, the hounds took to barking and Preacher jumped up and pulled his big flintlock pistol on them.}

^{"Wait. It's us," Strofe cried out.}

^{"Hell's bells," Preacher said, "y'all nearly got your heads blowed off."}

^{"We was startin' to get worried," Little Strofe said.}

^{"We need to saddle up and get moving," Cain told them.}

^{"Now?" Preacher whined.}

^{"Yeah. Right now. We may have company soon."}

^{"You done got her, huh?" Preacher said, walking over and slapping the squirming body on Cain's horse.}

^{"Yeah, we got her," Cain said. "Now mount up."}

^{Cain could feel a warm trickle down his arm where she'd cut him. He flexed his fingers, hoping she hadn't cut a nerve or an artery. Then he took out his handkerchief, balled it up, and slid it down his sleeve over the wound, trying to stanch the bleeding.}

^{Chapter 9.}

^{T
hey rode hard until they couldn't see the lights of the city anymore and then they rode a little farther to be on the safe side. They saw no sign of anyone following them. They stopped finally beside a wide, slow-moving river and made camp for the night in a stand of alder trees and scrub growth. Little Strofe got a fire going while his brother manacled Henry to a tree and Preacher hobbled the horses. Cain had lifted the girl carefully down off Hermes--she was more solid than her lithe form would have suggested, her legs and back muscled and hard. He set her on the ground and removed the burlap bag, cautious as he would be with taking a rattlesnake out. He was prepared for her anger, but instead she lifted her manacled hands and rubbed her eyes like a child waking from a troubled sleep, and squinted at the people surrounding her. She didn't see Henry right away, and that was a good thing.}

^{"Howdy, Rosetta," Little Strofe said.}

^{She didn't reply. She sat silently, the ball of muscle in her jaw clenched, her gaze remaining at the level of their knees. The two hounds came up to her and started licking her face and she pushed them away, not meanly, just disinterestedly.}

^{Preacher came up with the lantern to have a look. "So this here's what Eberly's got his pants up his crack about?" he said. His injured eye was black-and-blue, swollen nearly shut, the cut beneath it puffy and sore-looking.}

^{"Ain't your bidness what Mr. Eberly does," Strofe said.}

^{"I'm just talking is all."}

^{"You're always talking."}

^{"Hit's a free country," he said, bending down to inspect the captured runaway. He stared at her, then reached down and touched her bare leg. He stroked it the way one might a piece of wood for its smoothness and the quality of its grain.}

^{"I told you," Strofe said, "Mr. Eberly don't want nobody layin' a hand on her."}

^{"Just samplin' the merchandise," Preacher said with a smile. "I s'pose she'd do in a pinch. Now if'n it was me, I'd get one a them Creole whores they got down in New Orleans. I hear they're something special."}

^{"You heard him," said Cain, squatting down in front of her. "Are you thirsty?" he asked her.}

^{She cast those icy blue eyes of hers in his direction, then looked away. He could see that the ride had taken some of the fight out of her. But he guessed there was enough left that, given half a chance, she'd still have clawed his eyes out if she could.}

^{"I have to . . . go," she said flatly.}

^{"Oughta let the nigger bitch piss in her drawers, all the trouble she caused us," Preacher said.}

^{Cain untied her feet and grabbed hold of the rope around her wrists and helped her to stand. He took the lantern and started to lead her farther into the trees where she'd have some privacy. Preacher made as if to follow them.}

^{"Where do you think you're going?" Cain said to him.}

^{"Ain't never seen a nigger piss before. Not a wench anyhow."}

^{"Go feed the horses," Strofe told Preacher. "See they get an extra portion of oats."}

^{When they got to an opening in the trees that looked out onto the river, he stopped and held the lantern up. "Before I untie you," he told her, "I'm going to have to search you. You understand."}

^{She just stared at him flatly.}

^{Early on in his slave-catching career, he'd made the mistake of not searching a captured runaway and nearly paid for it with his life. He was bringing back a slave with the improbable name ofJove Jones to a plantation in Columbia, South Carolina. While they were sleeping, the runaway had cut the ropes holding him, and Cain opened his eyes to the slave standing over him with a straight razor. The boy had hesitated, out of fear or some moral compunction about killing, Cain would never know. But it gave him enough time to draw his gun and tell the boy to drop it if he didn't want his head blown off.}

^{He hung the lantern on a tree limb. As he ran his hands perfunctorily up and down her body, Cain happened to look into her face. Up close, her eyes were narrowed and hard as nail heads, and in the flickering lantern light, her skin shone a smooth ocher color, like hazelnuts. She stood immobile as he searched her, making herself go stiff. He could tell she was used to being touched without her consent. It was the way she seemed to retreat inside herself. When he was sure she wasn't hiding anything, he took hold of the rope binding her hands.}

^{"I'm going to untie you. I want your word you won't try anything."}

^{"My
word
?" she said, a sharp little laugh slipping from her mouth. "If I get me the chance, I'll slit your damn throat, white man. You can have my
word
on that."}

^{"You nearly did already," he said, indicating the bloody hole in his sleeve.}

^{"Next time I'll finish the job."}

^{Though Cain took her at her word, he went ahead and untied her hands, then turned his back toward her.}

^{"Go ahead," he said. "But don't try anything, I'm warning you."}

^{As she squatted in the high grass, she asked, "Was it your idea?"}

^{"My idea what?"}

^{"About my baby? I figure it must a been, since them Strofes ain't smart enough to come in out of the rain. And that other fellow don't look none too bright neither."}

^{"I didn't want anybody to get hurt."}

^{"Not get hurt?" she said with a sarcastic snort.}

^{"If I tried to take you into custody in public, somebody might have gotten hurt. Even yourself. It's been known to happen."}

^{"You coulda left me alone is what you coulda done. I wasn't lookin' to do you no harm, mister. You the one come lookin' for me."}

^{"I could have had you arrested and put in jail. Kept you there till they had a trial. Sometimes that takes months."}

^{"So I should be thankful to some soul catcher?" she said, raising her eyebrows and snorting disdainfully.}

^{"Don't you sass me, girl. I'm just saying that's what I could have done. I had every right."}

^{"What right?"}

^{"You're a runaway. You broke the law."}

^{"Not my law."}

^{"It's the law of these United States."}

^{"I don't gotta follow no law that makes me out no better than a hog. What kind of law is that?"}