THIRTEEN FOR DINNER

Twenty-five

TWENTY-FIVE

            The three of us sit in silence now, drained of the furor that fed the small war waged in the tunnel. It’s a peculiar feeling knowing Mike was here the entire time, sitting in jail alone and confused. My heart warms with his concern for me, although I shouldn’t be surprised, he has been watching out for me since the first grade. His still agitated I can tell but Mike has always been one to choose his battles so I know he’s biding his time, waiting for the right moment for his revenge.

            A faint glow of light pierces the darkness from way down in the corridor. This time the footsteps are soft, cautious, no doubt the frightened cargo we’ve been expecting. Quillan is the first on his feet again, making me wait until he checks it out. Mike helps me up and we step behind Quillan as the glow of light grows closer.

            “Praise the Lord Almighty,” a woman leading the small group mumbles her thanksgiving when she sees us.

            “Welcome,” Quillan greets them and without another word we turn to lead them out the other end.

            Pausing several feet from the mouth of the cave, Quillan instructs the Cargo to turn off their lantern and leave it behind. He does the same with ours. “We have men from Georgia combing the area. They’re suspicious of us and we can’t use any light other than what the moon is offering tonight. Stay close.”

            My stomach knots in fear at the thought of the good ole boys from Georgia. I reckoned them to be slimy, seedy creatures, but now that I know of the brutality they are capable of, my spirit sickens bringing on a ton of hesitations as we set foot outside our hiding place.

            We keep in the cover of the trees, moving slowly, careful to stay out of the glow of the moon. Fortunately another summer storm is brewing scattering clouds across the night sky, blanketing the moon from time to time. The wind’s picking up too, whipping through the forest, moving the trees in a ghostly fashion while it howls out an ill-omened warning. I shiver, something isn’t quite right.

            “Sweet Jesus be with us now,” the woman whispers. “The devil is on our heels tonight, I can feel his breath on the back of my neck.”

            I pale at her words but she pegged it right. I couldn’t have said it any better if I tried. Cautiously I glance around me, expecting to see the grim reaper himself, lurking along behind us, sickle in hand. My heart sprints up to my throat, stealing my voice when I notice a glimmer of light darting through the trees to my right. I want to tell Quillan but I have no voice. Fear has nearly disabled me.

            Swallowing hard, I grab his arm and point.

            “What?” he whispers.

            “A light,” I manage to say but it’s gone now.

            “I saw a light, heading this way. I no more get the words from my mouth when it appears again, much closer this time.

            “Get down!” Quillan orders pushing us to the ground. Adrenaline explodes inside of me taking my pulse to a whole new level. My eyes dart about the forest floor, desperately searching for cover. I see Quillan doing the same but it’s Mike who makes the discovery.

            Quietly we hunker down, making our way to a partially fallen tree trunk blanketed in Spanish moss, providing and excellent curtain for us to hide behind. Sending the four runaways in first, Quillan motions for me to follow, then points at Mike who presses up against me, followed by Quillan. We crouch down, every one of us holding our breath at the sound of snapping twigs and heavy footsteps, but it’s the next sound we hear that launches the woman into a heart wrenching prayer of deliverance. The men from Georgia have brought their blood hounds to sniff us out. The barking is getting louder as the dogs pick up our scent; I know it’s just a matter of minutes until we are discovered. A small warm hand slips into mine and I look down and all I can see is the eyes of the little girl looking up at me. I hug her close and smile forcing back my fear. I don’t know her name or anything about her other than freedom is something she has never known. She is an innocent child yet she is being hunted down like a common criminal because in this age of our history, her crime is having brown skin.