Mercy

Cooper bolted straight up. With his heart racing, he ripped his woolen blanket from his body. Sweat poured down his face as he reached for his carbine.

  "Easy does it, Captain. It's me, Sergeant Hawkins."

  Cooper turned his head and saw his friend kneeling on the ground beside him.

  "You were thrashing about in your sleep. I thought I should wake you. Were you dreaming about the war again?"

  Cooper nodded. "Yeah. I dreamed I was back at Vicksburg. It was after the battle and we were scouring the battlefield for wounded to bring back to the regimental aid station when we stumbled across those three men lying in a row who had been disemboweled by a reb cannonball. I can still see the blood and smell the rotted flesh."

  Hawkins shuddered. "That was an awful day and one I'd also rather not remember. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

  "Yeah, that would be nice. Thanks, Sergeant." Cooper looked around the camp. A damp mist covered the ground. Everyone was fast asleep except for Hawkins and himself. "Do you know what time is it?"

  Hawkins dug out his pocket watch. "It's coming up on four in the morning."

  "Four! I'm supposed to be on sentry right now, not you."

  "I couldn't sleep. So I took your shift."

  Cooper shook his head and stood up with his blanket wrapped around his shoulders. "When you were a child did you hear stories of this swamp devil?"

  "For a man who says he doesn't believe the legend, you sure are asking a lot of questions about it."

  "Let's just say I'm becoming interested in the folklore. Were you told about it?"

  "Sure, I heard about the monster in the dark when I was a child. We all did. It used to scare the pants off my brothers and me when were young. But as we got older, the threat of a monster taking you in the night for not doing what your momma told you wasn't half as good an inducement to be good as my father's leather belt was."

  "All my father had to do was look at me and I'd be good. Until I turned twelve and was shipped off to a boarding school, I was convinced his stare could kill me."

  Hawkins laughed as he gave Cooper a cup full of hot coffee. "I bet our fathers would have gotten along."

  "Probably." Cooper took a sip of coffee and felt it warm his innards as it slid down to his stomach.

  "Sergeant, it could be a long day for all us, why don't you wait another couple of minutes before waking everyone up."

  "Sure thing, sir." Hawkins went to check on the horses leaving Cooper all alone by the fire.

  Cooper stamped his feet a couple of times to get the blood flowing in his cold, leather boots before taking another mouthful of coffee. He walked to the riverbank and looked over at the misty woods on the other side. He had no doubt in his mind Maclean would never voluntarily surrender. The day was going to end in violence. Maclean and his people were a bunch of die-hard rebels who refused to admit the war was over. Cooper had seen so much bloodshed in the past few years that he had hoped to never raise his fist in anger ever again. Yet, he found himself about to lead men in battle one more time. Cooper said a silent prayer for the men with him while he mentally steeled himself for the coming fight.

  An hour later, before the sun had risen high enough in the sky to burn off the fog, they began to cross the river. As quiet as they could, they paddled the small canoes to the far bank. Cooper was the first one out of his boat. He ran a few paces into the woods and dropped down on one knee. He brought his carbine up to his shoulder and looked over the sights. A few yards to his right, Hawkins did the same.

  "I can't see more than a few yards in this soup, but my gut tells me we're alone, Captain," said Hawkins, peering into the mist.

  "Yeah, I think you're right. You stay on guard while I get the next bunch moving across the river."

  Hawkins nodded, stood up, and took cover behind a tree.

  Satisfied that things were going well, Cooper walked back to the river's edge. Already the three canoes were being pulled back to the other side by a rope tied to the bow of the boats.

  "Cyrus, please join Sergeant Hawkins in the woods and keep guard until everyone else is across," said Cooper.

  Cyrus nodded and dashed off into the undergrowth.

  "Which way?" Cooper asked Owens.

  "There should be a trail about twenty yards downriver," replied Owens. "We'll follow it all the way to Maclean's camp."

  The sound of splashing feet made Cooper turn his head.

  Thomas walked out of the fog and tipped his hat at the officer. "That be the last of my men. I done left George and Vincent behind to watch the horses."

  "Thanks, Thomas," said Cooper. "Get your men in line and follow the pastor when we head out. Remember, no talking. We all have to be as quiet as a church mouse."

  "Don't you worry, Captain, my boys and me we're gonna do you proud."

  "I know you will. Now see to your men."

  Cooper walked over to Stone and placed a hand on his arm. "Sir, I'd like your word that you won't do anything rash once we have Maclean and his men in custody. If they're guilty, it's not up to us to decide their punishment. That's a judge's responsibility."

  "You know how I feel about those murdering bastards, but you have my word that I'll do as you say," replied Stone.

  A minute later with Owens in the lead, they began their march to Maclean's hideout.

  The smell of bacon cooking in a skillet wafted through the air.

  Owens raised his hand. Right away, everyone in line behind him stopped and took one step off the trail.

  "That smells mighty tasty," whispered Hawkins.

  "Perhaps we should ask them to share," replied Cooper, kneeling next to Hawkins.

  "That would be neighborly of them. But something tells me they won't be so friendly when they find out what we have in mind for them."

  Owens looked over his shoulder and waved for Cooper to move up. They got down on all fours and crept to the edge of the forest. Smoke rose from the stone chimney of an old farmhouse. There wasn't much to Maclean's hideout. Cooper looked around and saw a ramshackle barn about fifty yards from the home along with an outhouse and a well.

  Cooper studied the area for a few minutes before saying, "Okay, here's what we're going to do. Hawkins and I will sneak into that barn over there to cover you. Stone and Cyrus can move around and watch the back door of the farm. While the pastor and his wife take up a position to the west, Thomas and his men will cover the east. No one should be able to get in or out of that cabin without us knowing about it."

  Owens nodded.

  "Let's give everyone ten minutes to get into position then it's over to you, Sheriff. I hope you know what you're doing."

  "So do I," replied Owens.

  "Sheriff, if Maclean refuses to come with us, you know I'll be forced to try and drive him and his men out of that home by any means necessary."

  Owens bristled. "I heard you the first time, Captain. You do your job and leave me to do mine."

  Cooper crawled back a couple of yards before getting up to his feet. He walked back and briefed everyone on the plan. Pastor Melancon and Rose said a prayer together before checking that their shotguns were ready to fire.

  "Okay, Sergeant, let's get to work," said Cooper. They moved as quietly as they could through the trees, keeping well inside the forest until they were directly behind the barn. They edged forward and found there was a gap of about twenty yards from the trees to the building. Both men looked at one another, nodded, and sprinted out of the woods. They came to a sliding halt against the side of the barn. While Hawkins covered him, Cooper pulled open a side door and peered inside. Aside from seven horses, there was no one inside the building. Cooper tapped Hawkins on the shoulder and together they crept inside.

  "You go up there," Cooper said to Hawkins, pointing at a wooden ladder that led up to the second floor. "I'll stay down here."

  Hawkins climbed up to the loft and crawled forward until he could see out of a gap between two broken planks of wood. He brought up his carbine and took aim at the front door
of the building.

  Cooper walked over and made himself comfortable on an old wooden barrel. He pushed a board of rotted wood aside and peered out. He shook his head when he saw Owens step out of the forest and walk toward the front of the cabin with his arms by his sides. His pistol was still in its holster.

  With his thumb, Cooper pulled back on the hammer on his weapon and brought it back. As he watched the sheriff, he said to himself, "Sheriff, you're either a dunderhead or you've got a death wish."

  Owens knew he was about to kick over a hornet's nest, but couldn't think of anything better to do other than walk up to the door and ask Maclean to come back with him to town. His stomach began to tighten into a knot the closer he got to the house. When he was less than ten yards away, a man shouted out, "Just stop where you are and raise yer hands, Sheriff!"

  Owens recognized Clarke's voice. He stopped in his tracks and raised his one hand.

  "Are you alone, Tom?"

  "No. That would be damned foolish of me now, wouldn't it be?" replied Owens. "Is Maclean in there, I'd like to talk with him."

  "How do I know you won't gun him down the second he steps outside?"

  "If anyone shoots at him, you can kill me. I'm not planning on running." He regretted his choice of words as soon as they came out his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was die.

  The door creaked open. Alexander Maclean stepped out with a rifle in his hands. He lowered it until it was aimed at Owens' stomach before walking toward him. He stopped when he was a couple of yards away from the sheriff.

  "Morning, Tom," said Maclean. "I take it them two Yankees are with you."

  Owens nodded.

  "Who else?"

  "Roy Stone and a bunch of his people."

  "After what happened to John and Samuel, me and the boys were planning on paying you a visit later tonight. I guess you've saved us the ride. What do you want, Sheriff?"

  Owens heard the disdain in Maclean's voice. He tried to ignore it and said, "Alex, things are starting to get out of hand. I'd like you to come with me back to town so we can talk things over."

  "I'm not stupid, Sheriff. I've already confessed to killing one of Stone's darkies. If I go with you, the people of Williamstown may not convict me, but them Yankees will find a way to. They'd love nothing better than to see me dance from the bottom of a rope for doing the Lord's work."

  "That ain't ever gonna happen. You know I would never tell anyone about our conversation the other night. The only way to get them Yankees to leave is for you to come with me. I'll hold you for a couple of days until they've left and then in the middle of the night I'll let you go. Come on, Alex, what do you say?"

  "I say this," replied Maclean. With a flick of his wrist, he brought up the barrel of his rifle and pulled the trigger.

  The sound of Maclean's weapon firing surprised Cooper. He swore when the sheriff staggered back a few feet before falling to the ground. He brought up his carbine, took aim at Maclean as he turned to run, and fired. A split second later, his target fell face-first onto the wet grass.

  The moment Maclean hit the ground, his men came running out of the farmhouse firing as they ran. Some used the front door in an attempt to make it to the barn and their horses while others nipped out the back hoping to make it to the woods. One man with two pistols in his hands shot off a couple of rounds at Cooper before falling back with a hole blasted in his skull by Sergeant Hawkins.

  Cooper adjusted his aim and dropped a man dressed only in his dark gray underclothes as he stopped to pick up Maclean's rifle.

  The last man to fall made it halfway to the barn. He was reloading his shotgun when he was struck in the chest by two bullets. In less than a minute, it was over. When he couldn't hear anymore firing, Cooper walked out of the barn covered by Hawkins. He surveyed the ground in front of the house and saw five men lying on the ground. None of them were moving. He advanced with his weapon held tight in his shoulder.

  Out of the blue, Owens moaned, rolled over, and sat up. He brought a hand to the side of his bloody scalp and looked up at Cooper. "Jesus, my head hurts. I thought I was dead."

  "Not today," replied Cooper, amazed to see the lawman still alive.

  Owens looked down at his bloody hand. "I guess the bullet only grazed me."

  Cooper pulled his kerchief from his neck and tossed it to Owens. "Use that to stop the blood."

  A pained voice called out, "Lord, help me."

  It was Maclean.

  Cooper walked to the murderer's side and kicked his rifle away from him before bending down to see how bad the man was hurt. He rolled Maclean over and saw a bloody hole in his right thigh.

  A shot rang out from the doorway of the home.

  Cooper threw himself to the ground and looked up. A boy no more than seventeen years old stood there with a smoking pistol in his hand. He had a murderous look of rage on his pockmarked face. "Stand up so I can shoot you, you cowardly blue-belly!" screamed the youth.

  With a thud, the boy's eyes rolled up into his head as he dropped to the floor. "You okay, Captain?" asked Cyrus, standing over the boy with a skillet in his hand.

  "I am now," replied Cooper. "Thanks." He got up off the wet ground, brushed off the dirt from his tunic, turned, and waved for Hawkins to come down and join him.

  "Four of 'em made a run for it out the back door," said Cyrus.

  "Did you take any of them alive?"

  "No. They opened fire on us. So Mister Stone and I had to kill them all."

  Cooper wasn't bothered by their deaths. They probably would have been hung anyway. The man he was after was still alive and that was all that mattered to him right now.

  "What would you like me to do, sir?" asked Hawkins.

  "Have Thomas and his men join us. We're going to need a stretcher built to carry Maclean and someone to guard the boy."

  "I know this kid," said Cyrus, looking down. "He's the mayor's boy, Moses."

  "For now, he's our prisoner."

  "Captain, the mayor ain't going to like that we have his boy in custody, but to hell with him right now. I'll fetch Mrs. Melancon so she can take a look at Maclean's wounds."

  "Thanks, that would be most helpful," replied Cooper. He ran a hand over his stubble-covered chin before walking inside the disheveled farmhouse. Cooper found Stone standing by a table. In his hand was a pocket watch. His face was filled with remorse.

  "I thought this was Andrew's," said Stone, fighting back the tears. "It looks like his, but his was inscribed with his initials. This has nothing written on it."

  "I'm sorry, sir," said Cooper, knowing nothing he could say would ease the pain in the man's heart.

  "Is Maclean dead?"

  "No, just wounded. I'm having him seen to. I want him alive so he can stand trial for Miss Willow and your nephew's murder."

  "You won't find a judge and jury who would convict him in these parts. You're going to have to take him to New Orleans and have him tried by the army if we're ever going to see justice served."

  Cooper placed a hand on the troubled man's shoulder. "That won't be a problem. I can arrange to have him taken into federal custody. Sir, you have my word he won't get away with the murder of your people, not if I have anything to say about it." He left Stone alone and joined Cyrus and Hawkins outside. Rose Melancon was busy looking after Maclean while Thomas had a makeshift stretcher made out of an old woolen blanket and a couple of sturdy wooden poles.

  "Cyrus, I'd like you to take a couple of men and go back to the river to get the horses ready for our arrival," said Cooper. "You'll need to build a new stretcher for Maclean. This one will be pulled by one of our horses all the way back to the plantation. We're going to bury the dead before leaving. We shouldn't be more than an hour or so behind you."

  Cyrus waved a couple of the farmhands to his side. A minute later they were gone.

  "Okay, Sergeant, let's get a burial detail organized," said Cooper.

  "Right, sir," replied Hawkins.

  Pastor Melanc
on placed a hand on Cooper's shoulder. "I know these were wicked men who met their end today, but I'd still like to say a few words over their graves before we leave."

  Cooper nodded. "Of course, Pastor, you do what you feel is right." He turned and walked back inside the cabin. He found Stone sitting at a table covered with unwashed dishes with a distant look in his eyes. The man looked as if he had aged ten years since leaving home. "Sir, we're gonna bury the dead and then head back to Mercy Plantation."

  Stone didn't speak. Instead, he raised a hand to acknowledge he understood what was going on.

  Cooper let him be. He looked in every cupboard and box until he had searched the entire cabin.

  "What are you looking for, Captain?" asked Hawkins, standing in the doorway.

  "Some sign that Maclean and his men were behind this swamp devil nonsense."

  "Sir, if he were responsible, why would he have killed two of his own men? Also, Mister Stone and Thomas both said that Miss Willow had been mauled to death by dogs. I didn't see any dogs, did you, sir?"

  Cooper shook his head. "No, I didn't."

  "Something isn't adding up. I'm beginning to think we've got the wrong man responsible for the murder of them two young 'uns."

  Cooper pursed his lips. Hawkins had a point. In his haste to bring Maclean to justice, he hadn't taken the time to step back and examine all the facts before making up his mind who was accountable.

  For the return trip to the river, Cooper took the lead. Behind him, Stone walked in silence with his head down. The pastor and one of the farmhands helped a woozy Owens to stay on his feet. Thomas looked after the men carrying Maclean while Rose and a young man armed with an ax guarded Moses. Last in line was Sergeant Hawkins, who soon found himself busy encouraging everyone to keep moving.

  When they finally emerged out of the woods, they were met by a subdued-looking Cyrus.

  "What's wrong?" Cooper asked.

  "That," said Cyrus, pointing to the far bank.

  Cooper's skin crawled when he saw the heads of the two men they had left behind jammed onto the end of a couple of poles. Their eyes and mouths were wide open as if frozen in their last cries of terror. A swarm of flies flew around the heads. From where he was standing, Cooper couldn't see their bodies. The muddy riverbank was soaked in blood. The horses and the canoes were also nowhere to be seen.

  "Oh my God. What happened back here?" asked Pastor Melancon as he helped Owens to sit down on a moss-covered log.

  "I don't know," replied Cooper. He turned to face Owens. "Is there a ford nearby we can use to cross the river?"

  "No," responded Owens, looking in disbelief at the decapitated heads. "We're going to have to walk through the woods until we get to O'Doul's farm. He has a boat we can use."

  "How long is that going to take?"

  Owens sat there staring straight ahead.

  Cooper snapped his fingers. "Sheriff, how long will it take?"

  "Uh, no more than a day or so, I think."

  Thomas and his men stepped out of the woods and halted in their tracks. "Oh, Lord, no," cried Thomas before dropping to his knees.

  "Jesus," said Cooper under his breath when he remembered Rose. He patted Melancon on the shoulder and pointed back at the woods. "Keep your wife from coming any closer. She doesn't need to see this."

  The pastor left Cooper's side and raced to catch his wife.

  A couple of seconds later, Hawkins stepped off the path and looked over at the gruesome site on the far riverbank. He shook his head and turned away. "Sir, what do you want us to do?"

  "If we had some tools with us, I'd say we make a couple of rafts and try to cross the river, but as we don't have any, I'd say our options are limited," replied Cooper.

  "We could go back to the farmhouse; Maclean was bound to have had some tools to cut wood with."

  Cooper snapped his fingers when he remembered the horses back in the barn. "That's a good idea. However, I think we can speed things along. Why walk when we can ride. While everyone else makes their way back to the farm, I'll send Cyrus and his two men ahead of us to get the horses we found in the barn ready for our arrival."

  "Right, sir. I'll get everyone turned about."

  The sun soon climbed high in the sky burning off the fog. With the sun came the humidity and the endless swarms of insects. With far less enthusiasm than before, the group trudged back to the homestead.

  When they arrived back at the farmstead, an eerie silence greeted them.

  Cooper brought up a hand to his mouth and called out, "Cyrus, where are you?"

  There was no reply.

  Cooper's instincts kicked in, warning him to be wary. He waved the pastor to his side. "Keep everyone with you while Hawkins and I see where Cyrus has gotten to."

  Melancon nodded and took cover behind the house with the rest of their party.

  "Captain, I got a bad feeling about this," said Hawkins as they strode toward the barn with their weapons at the ready.

  "Me too, Sergeant."

  When Cooper stuck his head in the barn, he swore at the top of his lungs. The building was empty. There wasn't a horse or person to be seen. They were going to have to walk out of the swamp.

  "Sergeant, before this day gets any worse, take a look around for any sign of where they could have gone with the horses. After that, I think it best if we all rested for an hour and had something to eat before pushing on."

  "Right, sir, I'll see what I can find," replied Hawkins.

  Cooper walked back and joined the others. He found Stone sitting on the ground. "How long have you known Cyrus?"

  Stone looked up at Cooper with a tired look on his face. "Why?"

  "I know you've been through a lot, but I need you here with me. How long have you known Cyrus?"

  Stone let out a deep sigh. "Let me see now. I think it will be two years in December, why do you ask?"

  "Sir, he and the two men we sent ahead are gone along with all of the horses."

  "I never thought him to be a coward, but you can never know the mettle of a man until he is faced with adversity."

  Cooper shook his head. He didn't agree. Cyrus had never come across to him as a coward. "I don't think he ran out on us. Something has happened to him and the two men with him."

  Stone shrugged. "All I do know is that his services are no longer welcome at the Mercy Plantation."

  From the far side of the barn, Hawkins hollered, "Captain Cooper, Mister Stone, please come here."

  "Are you with me?" Cooper asked Stone. The man nodded and stood up. They walked over to where Hawkins was kneeling.

  "Have you found something?" asked Cooper.

  "There are three sets of tracks leading into the barn," explained Hawkins. "After that, there are only the horses' hoof marks in the mud and this." He pointed to a pair of tracks on the ground.

  "Jesus," blurted out Stone. "It can't be. They're just like the ones I found near Willow's body."

  Cooper dropped down to examine the footprints. They were similar to the ones they had found back at the plantation with the heel of a man's foot and the toes of a large dog. The tracks led away from the barn.

  "They end at the edge of the woods," explained Hawkins. "After that, it's only hoof prints heading away from the farm."

  Cooper pursed his lips. What he saw made no sense whatsoever.

  "Captain, perhaps we were being followed the whole time by a couple of Maclean's men. They could have murdered the boys by the river and then made their way over here to see what happened to their friends. They must have found the graves and when Cyrus and the two other men arrived they killed them before taking off with the horses?"

  "Sergeant, where are the bodies?" asked Stone.

  "They could have taken them."

  "Why not leave their heads behind like they did at the river?"

  "I don't know. Perhaps they heard us coming and took off before desecrating their remains."

  "So, how did they cross the river?"

  "We didn't see
any canoes when we went back. They could have used them to make their way across and then hid them or sent them downriver with the current."

  "What about these tracks?"

  "What about them?" said Cooper. "Some of the men we killed were barefoot. I was troubled that we didn't find any dogs here. I'm willing to bet that they're with these cutthroats and that's what made your tracks. Sergeant Hawkins' theory makes a lot of sense. I think we have to go on the assumption that some of Maclean's men are still alive and hiding somewhere in the woods. I say we post a couple of sentries and get some food into us before we begin our march to O'Doul's farm."

  "How can you think of food at a time like this?" asked Stone.

  "Sir, all of our supplies are with our horses, as of now we have no idea the next time we will be able to eat a decent meal. The one thing I learned in the army is to never turn down a hot meal."

  "You won't get an argument out of me, Captain," said Hawkins.

  Back at the farmhouse, Thomas soon had a fire going.

  "Captain, there's plenty of bacon and beans in the house to feed us for a few days," called out the pastor.

  "Good. Take what we can carry and leave the rest. Make sure we bring along something to cook the food on. The sooner we eat and get moving the better."

  15