The jail was surrounded by the crowd on three sides, but the east side of the building butt directly up against the new town bank, which stretched down the street and to the Livery stable at the corner. No one stood at the far end, leaving the bank locked and unattended and the alley behind empty. This was probably a good time to shake down that bank, but that was not the plan. The plan was to get the poor man out of the jail. Just now the roof seemed like the best place to start.
Get to the roof unnoticed was not a problem for River, of course. Those sorts of things were child's play for her. The problem was what to do next once she got there. That was perplexing. By that time River knew almost exactly where in the jail the poor man was, second floor, middle, back. She could feel his fear spike, when the Sheriff fired off a round over the screaming crowd. But as she crouched on the flat roof, she couldn't figure out how to get in. There were no doors or hatched, no vents, no openings at all.
'God – I don't wanna die.' Someone below her thought.
The bank had been constructed after the jail, that was evident from the brick. It covered the entire back of the prison; however, there was an eighteen-inch gap between the buildings that was open from the top. It had been blocked off from the sides no doubt to prevent varmints and small children from getting in, but it was evident from the top. As River peered down into the dark gap she could make out a doorframe. This jail had been a freestanding building at one time, it had to have a back door that was now blocked and River had found it.
"A way in anyway." She mumbled.
River crawled over the lip and using pressure from her arms, feet and back she slid slowly into the gap. Her boots and hands managed the decent well, but her poor dress and back were badly scraped up on the brick. It bunched up on her back, eventually giving her some sort of cushion, but not before it had snagged and torn in several places. By the time she reached the bottom she looked a mess.
Finding the door at the bottom was easy enough. She shimmed through the narrow space until it was in front of her. Though the door was locked from the inside, it was easy enough to open. She'd been trained in many thing at the academy. An old lock such as this one was not an obstacle. It was only a little more difficult than finding it in the first place.
"You got two minutes Sheriff. Bring the Reaver out or we're coming in the get him."
River heard someone yell from the other side of the building. The crowd was getting impatient. There was barely enough time now for River to get in, much less get anyone out again. The girl hurried through the door and made her way silently to the stairs.
The funny thing about guarding a building from an angry mob was that no one pays much attention to what is going on inside. River slipped around the corner and up the stairs completely unnoticed. She ascended each stair quietly and carefully.
"I ain't signed up for nothing like this Sheriff." One voice complained nervously from below.
"Me neither." Whined another.
"Bobby, Jim, if you two leave, you just promise me one thing," the Sheriff demanded. "You go home and don't join them that's out there. Got it."
"Yes sir." They both agreed.
River heard them both leave just as she reached the top. Two other guards stood at the second floor window facing north toward the crowd, both with rifles. The shorter one had the keys on his belt. They were talking quietly about how they would give up the prisoner, if it came down to it. Neither paid any attention to what was behind them.
River drifted silently down the center hallway away from the guards. Empty cells lined both sides, the middle right cell held the only occupant. She gazed at him curiously, oddly captivated by his serenity. A mob was just outside screaming to lynch him and he sat, calm, resigned, as if he'd made his peace with it. His lean body sat on the cell floor, his long arms hugging his knees to his chest. This was not a Reaver. Reavers did not know peace.
"One minute Sheriff." Boomed the voice from outside.
He wore old clothing, but his appearance was neat and clean. She couldn't see his face, as his black hair was cut long in front, completely obscuring his features from sight, but it was cut short in back, well up off his shoulders. He muttered prayers behind his veil of privacy. Prayers River recognized from Sheppard Book. Book would also recite these verses at times when their future was in question and death was near at hand.
There was something about this man that confused the girl. River couldn't quite understand it. He was about to die and yet his mind was so peaceful. Almost as if he did not fear death. She could have stared at him forever, if not for the crowd outside.
"That's it Sheriff! Time's up!"
River moved quickly. Before the prisoner could look up both guards lay unconscious on the floor, the girl had the keys and the cell door was open. He lifted his scarred face from his hands and peered directly into a pair of bright brown eyes, belonging to what he assumed was an angel.
"Follow me and be quiet."
The young man did not question or hesitate. He followed this strange white haired apparition down the steps and out the back door, into the narrow gap behind. This time, River took the key from the door, closed it behind them and locked it from the out side. Then she pocketed the key and smiled at the man.
"But it's blocked on both ends." The man whispered.
"Shhh."
By now her appearance was less angelic, being more that of a tramp or a homeless woman. Her dress torn and her body scraped, but any savior would do at the moment. The man was more than relieved and thankful beyond words.
"We can leave through the building – later – much later." She eventually said.
River hoped Mal and the others had gotten what they wanted, because in less than a minute all hell would break loose. The whole mob would be swarming everywhere looking for the escaped Reaver. And none of them would be in a charitable mood. Especially if they found someone thieving.
"What now?" The man whispered.
"Now we wait." River said.
The girl looked him up and down as best she could in the dark of the gap. He was tall, well built, but seemed shy, unlike the workers on Harvest. Still, he had a kind spirit. She could feel that. She really couldn't see his face behind the cut of his hair and in the relative dimness, but she felt she had done well.
'Pick a random man to save and he turns out pretty easy on the eyes.' She thought.
"By the way, I'm Cayman." He offered his hand.
"River." Was all the girl said.