Assassins of History- Transference Page 22
“One of these days I’m going to shoot Gill myself,” Mrs. Throckmorton prophesied.
“Mama!” Caleb scolded.
The Dark Mage’s Log: ‘Earth 3’ Date: 18620921
Jargunn quickly boarded his ACV so he wouldn’t be heard by the Earthlings and cried bloody tears of relief.
Caleb and I got on the buckboard’s bench seat. I untied the reins from the brake handle and handed them to Caleb. He snapped the reins and we started for the Throckmorton farm. It was not a pleasant trip. Sampson after having been in a stall for almost three days wanted to stretch his legs. Caleb had a hard time keeping him under control. Also, the vehicle didn’t have any springs and we all were jolted around something terrible due to the rough road. We even had to stop two times to let Joshua and I rest and recover from all the bouncing.
We reached the Throckmorton farm at about 11:00 a.m. Caleb and I got Joshua into the house and into his bed. I think he was woozy from the trip. Caleb and I unharnessed Sampson from the buckboard, for which I could tell he was eternally grateful, and put him in a stall for which he wasn’t very appreciative. Then we stored the buckboard in the barn and retreated to the house.
The Dark Mage’s Log: ‘Earth 3’ Date: 18620921
Jargunn followed the imposter and his fellow Earthlings back to the rural building where the gun fight had occurred. He was so glad that the idiots had made it with no impediments that he projected a token of his substance to the temple of the Almighty Tantus. Then he set up surveillance for hopefully a very tranquil ‘Earth 3’ night.
Mrs. Throckmorton rustled up some victuals. We all ate as if we hadn’t had a bite to eat in a week. After lunch, I asked, “Is there a stream, pond or river near here where I might take a bath?” I got shocked looks from all present, which made me blush. I just shrugged my shoulders and they all laughed. “Thar’s a stream on tha back side of tha field behind tha barn,” Mrs. Throckmorton acknowledged.
Once Mrs. Throckmorton provided me with a towel and lye soap, I headed to the back forty. I stopped in to see how Beau was doing. He was standing in his stall, completely slumbering. I didn’t bother him, but just proceeded on my way.
Reaching the stream, I stripped naked, which is pronounced nay’kid, and has no bad connotation, as opposed to neck’ed, which has a wicked connotation. I put my clothes on some dry rocks by the creek. I really didn’t know how bad I smelled until I disrobed.
Gingerly I walked barefooted out into the stream and sat down in the shallow cooling water. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the gentle current of the water as it washed over my body. My thoughts drifted to the Yankee cavalry fight, the confrontation with Ahab, the gun fights with the Gills, the friendship of the famous Captain Mosby and the love of Daphne Newcomer. I believe I must have dozed off because I suddenly felt myself start to fall backwards. I had to quickly put my arms behind me to keep from falling into the water. This jolted me fully awake because it stretched the injuries to my pectoral muscles. I gasped and waited a few moments for the pain to subside. Then I leisurely took a bath being very careful not to get water in my bullet wounds. I scrubbed myself raw from my stomach to the bottom of my feet with the lye soap Mrs. Throckmorton had provided me. I toweled off and then knelt down on all fours at the edge of the stream and washed my hair. Again I took great care not to get water in my wounds. After toweling my hair dry, I dressed in just my trousers, coat and boots. I carried my undergarments, socks, and shirt back toward the house. I let out a laugh and thought, “This 19th century rendition of ‘Shall we gather at the River’ was a very cleansing experience.”
When I got back to the house, Mrs. Throckmorton procured a pair of trousers and a shirt of Joshua’s for me. She said she would wash my dirty linen and trousers and brush out my coat. Not only did she brush out the coat, but she repaired the small tear in the left sleeve and the entry and exit holes on the front face of the coat created by Seaborne Gill’s bullets. She said I should keep Joshua’s shirt since mine was ruined. I thanked her profusely for all she had done for me. Caleb and I settled in chairs on the front porch and listened to the insects buzzing, the cattle lowing and the calls of a multitude of birds.
We were both thinking the same thing, “It is good to be alive.”
I slept in the house on the floor in Joshua’s and Caleb’s room. Believe it or not, I think I passed out. I really got some good sleep for the first time in about a week. I felt great when Mrs. Throckmorton got us all up at about 5:00 a.m.
Joshua felt well enough to get up on his own. He did feel a little woozy at first, but soon got his bearings and was able to get dressed.
Mama Throckmorton had laid out my dried and mended clothes on a table in Caleb and Joshua’s room. Once we had donned our apparel, the Throckmorton brothers and I proceeded to the kitchen where we were treated to a great breakfast of eggs sunny-side up, biscuits with honey or gravy and ham steaks. I was so stuffed when I finished that I must have waddled from the table instead of walked.
The Throckmorton’s neighbors had really helped take care of the farm, cattle and horses while they were in Harpers Ferry. That included Beau, bless his little back-breaking heart. Sadly, I went to the barn and saddled him. He accepted this degradation in his usual sullen mood when he was forced to travel. I walked him to the front of the house and tied him to a tree in the front yard.
As I was getting all my paraphernalia put on the saddle, the Throckmorton clan trooped out on the porch. Mrs. Throckmorton and Caleb continued down the front stairs to see me off. Joshua just leaned against a porch post and watched me prepare for my journey. Mrs. Throckmorton gave me a letter and asked, “Would ya please deliver this to my brother-in-law Elias Throckmorton at tha Shepherdstown bank?”
“Of course,” I graciously assented and asked, “Is therah anything else I could do for ya.”
Suddenly, she hugged me, which hurt a lot due to the chest wound, and whispered in my ear, “If it hadn’t been for ya help, we would all be dead now. Thank ya, Jim.”
I winced from the pain, blushed from the heartfelt thank you and tried to think of something to say. Not being able to think of anything chivalrous, I just nodded and said, “If ya ever need me, ya know where to find me.”
She turned and went up the porch stairs dabbing her eyes with her apron. Caleb and I shook hands and just looked deeply in each other’s eyes and nodded. We knew if either of us were ever in trouble, we could count on each other. Joshua just waved as I mounted the “Shepherdstown Flash” and rode out of the front yard.
Once on the road I turned back to my audience and tried to do one of those flourishes with my hat like Mosby, but I know it looked ridiculous. After making a fool of myself, I kicked Beau hard and headed him up the River Road toward Hattie’s place.
The Dark Mage’s Log: ‘Earth 3’ Date: 18620922
Jargunn submissively made his call to Lord Dendaras.
The Ruler answered the call and croaked in a sullen manner, “Report.”
Jargunn hesitantly replied, “Sire, the imposter spent an uneventful night at the abode of the people he helped protect in Harpers Ferry. I will intercept him today at coordinates, 77 47 30/ 39 24 30 and bring him to you.”
Lord Dendaras glared at Jargunn for what seemed like eternity then broke the connection.
Jargunn breathed a sigh of relief.
I got to thinking about the last six days. All the fighting, gunplay and loving were enough to last a life time. It seemed like a month since I left for Harpers Ferry. However, I doubt that much had changed back in Shepherdstown due to the slow 19th century pace of life.
About two hours into the ride I came around a bend and there was a hooded figure standing on the side of the road as if he was waiting on me. The figure was in what appeared to be a priest’s black cassock. As I drew closer, Beau suddenly picked up his ears and stopped in the middle of the road. I kic
ked him, but no bullying could get him to move forward.
I was about twenty-five feet from the black specter. I surveyed his clothing and demeanor. His feet were hidden by the cassock. A black wool muffler covered his face under the hood so that only his eyes could be seen. His eyes even at twenty-five feet were hypnotic. I swear they gleamed and seemed to change colors, first robin’s egg blue, then jade green and finally black onyx. His eyes began to mesmerize me and bore into my brain at the same time. I felt a shiver run through me and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. His look became heinous and serpentine. His hands appeared to be clasped behind his back.
Beau began to back up.
I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to look into those ever-changing, spellbinding orbs and reached for my pistols. When I opened my eyes to aim my Colts, the figure quickly pointed a long wand-like instrument at me. Without warning there was a crack and a force like a sledge hammer hit me square in the chest. The last thing I remember was Beau rearing and the ground coming up to meet me.
The Dark Mage’s Log: ‘Earth 3’ Date: 18620922
Jargunn watched the imposter slide to the ground. After which, the stupid little Earth animal let out a shrill sound and stampeded up the road in abject terror, voicing what could only be described as a scream every time it drew breath.
Jargunn laughed at the terror he had generated in the creature. Then he walked over to the prostrate figure and summarily kicked him in the ribs as hard as he could. “That is for all the trouble you have caused me, all the boring tracking I had to endure and the problems you have created for me back on Axeylon 5,” he hissed through gritted fanglike canines.
Picking up the imposter, he walked into the woods with his burden under his left arm to his hidden Astral Conveyance Vehicle. Depositing the imposter in the cargo compartment, he got in the pilot’s chair and set the destination for Axeylon 5.
Jargunn smiled and mused under his breath, “Well Lord Dendaras, now that this earthling is under our control, how are you going to explain all the chaos he has created? If you try to send me to the Shadow Dwellers, I swear I will deliver the log of my time here on ‘Earth 3’ and my belief that you have violated the Prime Meridian to the Temple of Tantas on Golden Mean.”
COMING SOON
SHELDON OWEN WOODS,
ALIAS JIM HAGER,
IN HIS NEW ADVENTURE
ASSASSINS OF HISTORY:
CREATORS OF CHAOS
I awoke again, but this time there was no bodily pain. I felt well enough to take stock of my body. I patted my upper chest feeling for the trough across the flesh of my pectorals created by Seaborne Gill’s bullet. Amazingly the wound was gone. I couldn’t even feel a scar through the garment in which I was dressed.
Subsequently, I felt the lower rib cage. It made me wince a little. It was still tender to the touch, but not as painful as the last time I was conscious. Looking down at my left arm, I saw that there were no longer any hookups of intravenous needles. A quick glance at my right forearm gave assurance that the scar I remembered seeing was gone and the arm showed no other signs of surgery.
Swinging my torso to a sitting position, I experienced some pain in my ribs and slight vertigo, but both hindrances quickly dissipated. My feet were dangling off the pyre so I had to jump down to the floor. A small buzz when off in my head and I swatted at an imaginary bee that made the noise.
Looking around the room, I took an inventory of my surroundings. Other than the pyre there was no other furniture. The only light source was a two-foot sphere attached to the ceiling above the pyre that emitted a greenish illumination for the room. The greenish glow was both restful and mesmerizing. The luminosity seemed to come in waves of both sound and light. The sensory onslaught staggered me and I had to put my hand on the pyre to maintain my balance. I shook my head to keep from lapsing back into a slumber.
Unexpectedly, one whole wall of the room became transparent and I saw a humanoid observing me. I was so startled by the appearance of the figure that I gasped and took a step backwards.
On the other side of the wall was an entity that was skeletal in appearance. He stood about six feet six inches tall, but couldn’t have weighed more than 150 pounds. His head was totally covered with long silver hair that was pulled back and braided in a long queue down his back. His face was elfin in nature with a long jaw and nose. Plus, he had almond shaped eyes, which were subsequently changing color from green to blue to violet. His frame was housed in a form-fitting dark purple robe that periodically seemed to sparkle. The width of his body from shoulder to shoulder was no more than two feet, which gave him the appearance of a super tall and skinny runway model. But what had elicited my fearful reaction was the wicked grin that exposed sharp elongated canine teeth. It gave the being an almost wolfish facial façade. Once l finished my inventory of the creature’s physicality, I shivered as a chill ran up my spine.
This made the entity lean back his head and laugh. Apparently, he enjoyed my fear.
I couldn’t detect a sound in my prison, but I could almost feel the cruelty emanating from the creature. It made me mad as a wet hen and I bellowed, “Why am I here?”
Seemingly, he could hear me even though I couldn’t hear him, which made me even angrier.
I yelled, “Listen, you miserable excuse for a leering pervert. You better let me out of here.”
That got his attention. I guess he wasn’t used to being criticized. He suddenly quit laughing and hit a button on the transparent wall that I hadn’t noticed. In a sibilant serpentine voice, he said, “You’ll pay for those words, human.”
I knew I had crossed the line and I wished I hadn’t. It must have shown on my face because he cackled like some Halloween witch riding a broom. Usually in dire circumstances, a person doesn’t react in an amusing way to threats. However, the cackle was so unexpected and so uncharacteristic that I pointed at him and, in the internet jargon of the 21st century, laughed out loud.
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He hit another button that I hadn’t detected and the wall reverted to a prison wall again.
The Dark Mage’s Log: Axeylon 5: Galaxy Date: 16320
A red light began to pulsate on the wall of Dendaras’ inner sanctum. He excused himself and, picking up a communications device from his desk, demanded, “What do you want?”
A whimpering voice answered, “Sire, the imposter has escaped.”
“What?” roared Dendaras. “I just left him a few moments ago. Can’t you track him?” he added.
“Lord, how can we track him? The device that was implanted hasn’t been in his system for the forty sectares required to become compatible with a human’s chemistry. Therefore, the tracking device won’t become operational for another thirty sectares,” explained the voice.
“Idiots! Imbecilic morons! Don’t you know he couldn’t have gotten off Axeylon 5? Organize a search of the area using a scent droid, you fool! Now leave me alone!” snapped Dendaras as he closed the communication line.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Vernon Dutton was recognized in 2013 for his first book, Civil War Reflections, an anthology of original poetry and prose that honors the battles, soldiers and spirits, as well as contemporary reenactors who recreate historic moments from the American Civil War.
He holds the rank of High Private in the 3rd Arkansas Infantry, an organization dedicated to the preservation of Civil War history. Since his first event at Prairie Grove Battlefield in northwest Arkansas in 1994, Dutton has participated in more than 25 national reenactments at historic battle sites, including Gettysburg, Shiloh, Corinth, Perryville, Pea Ridge, Red River Campaign and Antietam.
Dutton served his country as a decorated United States Marine Corps helicopter pilot in Viet Nam and taught flight training in Pensacola, Florida after his tour of duty.
He is a retired attorney, a retired executive of a large insurance agency and holds a 4th Degree Black Bel
t in Aikido. Vernon practices Qi Gong for mental clarity and physical longevity. He and his wife Nancy are approaching their Golden Wedding Anniversary.
Vernon’s websites:
vdutton.com
vernondutton.com
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