Soul Catcher (49 page)

^{"West," he replied. "Said something about heading out to Hagerstown. That's why he was in the market for a horse."}

^{"That better be the truth."}

^{"Got no reason to lie to you, friend."}

^{"And stop calling me friend."}

^{Cain looked down at Rosetta. She was half sitting, half lying on the ground with her knees bent, her left arm awkwardly pulled up by the chain.}

^{"I want to know something else," Cain asked the man.}

^{"What's that?"}

^{"Did you take advantage of her?"}

^{The man named Clayton smiled. "You referring to this here bitch?" he said, rattling the chain so that it yanked Rosetta's arm into the air as if she were a marionette and he a puppeteer.}

^{"I asked--did you touch her?"}

^{It was light enough now that Cain could see the smug look in his reddish brown eyes. The look of a man who held another man's innermost secret in the palm of his hand.}

^{"You mean did I fuck her?" The man glanced at Rosetta. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"}

^{Cain looked at her, noted the cold anger in her eyes, the flesh around them drawn taut, the hard set of her mouth. Then he turned back toward the leader.}

^{"Go ahead, girl," the man said. "Tell him. Tell him how we all took turns with you. Tell him how much you liked it."}

^{He turned back toward Cain and, with a smug grin, said, "Now I see why her master wants her back so much. I never had such a good piece of tail, black or white, in all my born days."}

^{It was as if the man had a hankering to be killed, so Cain decided to oblige him. Staring into his eyes, he squeezed the trigger.}

^{However, there was just a thin metallic click. The man's expression changed rapidly in the course of a split second: it went from one of shock, to that of fear, to something akin to unexpected joy, the sort a person has on finding an unanticipated coin in his pocket. Then he started laughing like one who'd lost his faculties.}

^{"Mister, you just ran out of lives."}

^{As he went for his gun with his left hand, Cain lunged forward with the hatchet, swinging it in a short, vicious stroke, as if he were splitting a piece of ironwood kindling. The hatchet caught the man at the hairline, and the blade settled deep into his brain. Blood spurted out, coursing down his face. He shuddered once, then stiffened, his spine arching, his arms and legs extending rigidly. He held that position for the briefest of moments, then his muscles went limp and he dropped straight down into himself, collapsing as if his bones had turned to jam.}

^{Cain went over to check on the old man. He wanted to make sure he wasn't playing possum, so he kicked him with his boot. The man didn't move. Then Cain returned and squatted down in front of Rosetta.}

^{"You all right?" he asked.}

^{She stared at him silently, the rage glistening like diamonds in her eyes. Then, as if she had just realized she was still manacled to the dead man, she let out with a terrible screech, and began yanking frantically on the shackle, trying to free herself.}

^{"Wait," Cain told her. "Let me get the key."}

^{He rifled through the dead man's pockets until he found the key, then removed the shackle from her wrist. As soon as she was free, instead of getting as far from the body as she could, she crawled closer and rose up on her knees so that she was staring down at the dead man. Cain watched her uneasily. Her jaw was set, and her eyes filled with a chilling sort of malice. It put Cain in mind of the time back in Boston, when she fought him. "Rosetta," he said. But she didn't seem to hear him. Then she grasped hold of the hatchet, still buried in the man's skull, and pulled it out and raised it over her head. She slammed it down into the dead man's face. She did this over and over, crying out, "You white buckra." Soon his face was nothing more than a bloody mess. Cain thought of stopping her, but he figured it would be better to let her get it out. After a while she tired and stopped of her own accord. She knelt there, breathing hard.}

^{Cain came over and put his hand on her shoulder. She spun on him with the hatchet, as if she would strike him as well.}

^{"Whoa," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "Take it easy."}

^{She stared at him for several seconds, her hollow-eyed expression that of a lost soul. He noticed that she had several small scrapes and bruises on her face, a welt over her eye, as if from a fist. Then suddenly a change came over her. She went limp and fell to the ground. Hugging her stomach, she began to cry, great heaving sobs that convulsed her. Cain squatted beside her, not knowing what to do. Finally, he put his hand on the back of her head and stroked her hair.}

^{"You're safe now," he said.}

^{After a while, her crying slowed, then stopped altogether. Still her ribs quivered and her breathing was erratic.}

^{"Everything's going to be all right, Rosetta."}

^{"Easy for you to say," she hissed at him.}

^{"I'm sorry," he said, continuing to stroke her hair. "Is the baby all right?"}

^{"I don't know. I ain't no doctor."}

^{Cain stood and went over to the horses. He rummaged through the saddlebags until he came up with a shirt and a kerchief. He grabbed a canteen off the pommel and returned to her.}

^{"Drink some," he told her. Then he took the canteen back and poured some water on the kerchief and began to gently wash her face. When he was done, he handed her the shirt and said, "Here. Put this on."}

^{"I don't want their things on me," she said.}

^{"You're shivering. Put it on." When she hesitated, he said, "Please. Just until we can get you something else."}

^{She relented finally and put it on. Then he managed, with some difficulty, to pick her up and carry her away from the carnage, over to a tree near where the horses were tied.}

^{"Sit here," he said. "I'll be right back."}

^{She clutched his hand. "Don't leave me."}

^{"I'll be right over there. I have to take care of some things. Just sit still."}

^{Cain went over and searched the bodies. He found his gun and blackjack on the body of the bearded one, then located his flask on the old man. The man had had it in his breast pocket, and it now had a bullet hole clear through it, right through the Augustus part of his name. He took it anyway. From the body of the one named Clayton, he found the money purse the old woman had given Rosetta and took that, too. He also confiscated one of the Tranters, sliding it into his boot, but his Sharp's rifle was gone, probably sold off somewhere. Cain couldn't find his own billfold, but he did locate the leader's, and assumed his own money was mixed in with the other man's. The whole thing came to a little shy of two hundred dollars, and he wondered what the fool had given Hermes away for. He also understood then that the man had never had the money to buy Rosetta in the first place, that from the start he'd planned on killing him and stealing her. Not that it mattered much now, though it did make his killing of four men a little easier to accept. As he searched the man's body, he kept his eyes averted from the raw thing that had been his face.}

^{When he'd taken everything that was his, he grabbed hold of the man's leg and dragged him deeper into the woods. He came upon a ravine, twenty feet below, which was a marshy swale that seemed a fitting place for the blackbirders to rot for eternity. Before he shoved the first body over the edge, he cursed him for good measure. Then he heaved the pepperbox after him, figuring the thing had nearly got him killed and he wasn't going to push his luck. He returned for the other bodies. He'd finished with the bearded one and had pulled the old man to the edge. Under his coat the man wore a homespun wool shirt Cain thought he could put to use, despite the bullet hole and blood. He'd just started unbuttoning it when the old man suddenly opened his eyes and cried, "Lord, Jesus?"}

^{Cain jumped back in surprise. "I thought you were dead."}

^{"What in tarnation you doin'?"}

^{Just then Cain heard the sounds of people approaching along the road. A half mile off, he saw a farmer's wagon and behind it, several men on Percherons. The old fellow commenced to crying out. "Help! Help me!" Cain grabbed him by the throat and finished him off. When he was certain that the man was dead once and for all, he removed his shirt before depositing him with his son and the other blackbirder. Then he put the shirt on and hurried back to where the horses were tied. He picked out the stronger-looking of the two bays and the mare he'd stolen, before releasing the other horses and sending them galloping off into the woods.}

^{Turning to Rosetta, he said, "Somebody's coming. Can you ride?"}

^{"Never rode no horse on my own before," she replied.}

^{"What I was asking was, are you well enough to ride?"}

^{"I reckon I can," she said, standing up, although she was wobbly on her feet.}

^{"We need to cut dirt. I'll take the bay. You ride the mare. She's spirited but easy." As he helped her up into the saddle, their faces came within inches of each other's.}

^{"You expectin' me to thank you, Cain?"}

^{"I'm not expecting anything."}

^{"Well, good, 'cause I ain't about to. If you hadn'ta come huntin' for me to begin with, none a this woulda happened," she said, glancing off in the direction of the camp.}

^{The iron in her spirit had returned, and in some odd way, he was grateful for it. She would need it for whatever would happen next.}

^{Cain struggled to pull himself up into the saddle. In all the commotion he'd almost forgotten the wound in his side. Now he was aware of the pain again, a sharp gnawing in his side, but he took hold of the reins of the mare and headed off at a gallop. He wanted to put some distance between himself and this place. Though he'd killed in self-defense, you never knew how something like this might turn out if he were connected to their deaths. The way his luck was running, he'd be brought before a judge who was kin to one of these men.}

^{They headed west, toward Hagerstown.}

^{Chapter 17.}

^{T
he flatlands of the coastal plain slowly altered as the countryside grew hilly again. The day turned warm and humid, a gummy haze hanging in the air and coating their bodies like a drunkard's sweat. It seemed they had ridden in a large circle; Cain recognized some of the landmarks they had passed several days earlier--a certain rock in the shape of a cat's head, a stream meandering through a field, the burnt-down farm with the family still camped out under the chestnut tree. For a while he held the reins of the mare, pulling it along behind him. Soon, though, Rosetta got the hang of being in the saddle, and he let her ride along on her own. Now and again, he'd glance back at her to see how she was doing. She remained silent, her face a mask of stoic inscrutability. He couldn't help but think about what the blackbirders had done to her. And he knew it was true that if he hadn't come after her, none of this would've happened.}

^{They crossed over a pebbly-bottomed creek, and he pulled to a stop.}

^{"I figured you might have need to wash yourself," he said to her.}

^{They dismounted, and he led the horses into the woods, where they couldn't be seen from the road. In the saddlebags, he found a piece of lye soap and an old rag, and he gave them to her. He allowed her some privacy by heading up the creek a ways. With the jouncing of the ride, the wound in his side had begun to bleed again. He could feel the warm blood oozing down his waist, soaking his pants. He removed his shirt, the one he'd taken off the old man, and then the bandage, and inspected the wound. It was black and puffy, nasty- looking. He washed it as best he could with the cold creek water. When he was done, he retied the now filthy bandage and put his shirt back on, and returned to get Rosetta.}