Chapter 4
If we don't die here first, that is.
As shouts and jeers echoed through the forest, becoming louder and more belligerent with every passing second, Lucy thought that perhaps, maybe she wasn't being too dramatic; the situation was definitely not ideal. If this was, in fact, the beginning of Fort Machault, then they had just walked 35 miles out of their way…for nothing.
Well, not for nothing…it appeared they were going to be witnesses to something if Wyatt didn't hurry up with those supplies.
Rufus wasn't much help. He didn't give the slightest indication that he had even heard Lucy's glass half-empty reply. The moment she had warned him about the possibility of malaria, he had gone into a near frenzy, swatting away at every mosquito, gnat and firefly that happened his way. Glaring at him as he wildly waved his arms in front of his face, Lucy cast a nervous glance at the gathering of soldiers and Native Americans to their left, terrified that Rufus' actions would draw their attention, not only to them, but to Wyatt who was slipping in and out of tents, grabbing whatever useful items he could find while the guards' attention was drawn to outside of the makeshift fort. When Wyatt was nearly spotted by a couple of curious soldiers advancing to the front picket, however, it was all Lucy could do to keep herself from standing up and calling out to him in sheer panic and desperation.
Covering her face with her hands, Lucy held her breath, unable to take the strain of Wyatt's risky venture. If he was caught, he would be killed. There was no doubt in her mind about that. He didn't speak French, and they would most certainly take him for an English spy…and she knew all too well, what happened to spies in this day and age. Each moment he remained within the confines of the camp, felt like pure agony as Lucy waited for the inevitable cry of alarm that would lead to Wyatt's capture or death.
But no such cry came.
Instead, a blood-curdling scream ripped through the air causing Lucy's breath to hitch in her throat as she whirled around in terror to find the source…something she immediately regretted the moment her eyes fell upon the grisly scene underway before them. She had read countless tales of the brutality that occurred during and even before the French and Indian war, but as she was discovering with every one of these missions, history was a bit different when seeing it in person.
French bodies pierced with spears and arrows, bare-chested natives with bayonet wounds, bloodied and gaping in their sides, were stumbling and falling to the leaf-strewn ground just a few yards away from them. Apart from the Alamo, Lucy had never witnessed a battle before, but unlike that desperate struggle in 1835, this one had a viciousness about it that made it morIf that display of brutality hadn't been enough to turn her stomach, however, the next proceedings most certainly did.
As the fighting got more desperate and heated, an especially large Frenchman with an axe began hacking away at the natives, their screams piercing through the night like a wounded banshee as the gruesome sound of splitting bones echoed all around them. Lucy slammed her hands to her ears but the sickening crunch of the axe as it met with the flesh of its victims seemed to penetrate every inch, every corner of the forest; until all she could do was close her eyes and hope for it all to be over soon.
Rufus, however, now wholly unconcerned with insects buzzing around him, was frantically pulling at her arm, "We need to get the hell out of here!" he whispered to her desperately. Lucy, however, frantically shook her head, too terrified to move for fear of being seen. Rufus, however, was insistent, "I don't know about you, but I didn't sign up for a front row seat to the 18th century version of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre….I think we need to get the hell out of here before I become the worst cliché in the history of horror movies.". Tugging her arm roughly, he attempted, and failed again to get her to move, "I mean it, Lucy…Night of the Living Dead, The Shining, The Exorcist…hell, even the real Texas Chainsaw Massacre…all end badly for the black guy. Please," Rufus pleaded, "don't make me a statistic. I didn't look good with a flat top in the 90s…pretty damn sure, the close shaved version would look just as terrible. MOVE." he ordered desperately.
Whether it was another blood-curling scream or Rufus' panicked allusion to scalping, Lucy finally relented and allowed herself to be tugged forward. Scrambling on their hands and knees, Lucy and Rufus mad e a desperate escape towards a large copse of trees further away and far more shielded from the literal bloodbath still taking place somewhere behind them.
Once safely hidden behind the trunk of a particularly large oak, Lucy threw her head back against the tree, her breath coming in short pants as she asked in a voice shaking with emotion, "What about Wyatt?".
Rufus shook his head, looking grim, "He's a hell of a lot more suited to that kind of thing than we are." he answered, "I may have grown up in Chicago hood, but I have never seen anything like that."
Another blood curling scream ripped through the area and Lucy, fearing for Wyatt's safety quickly turned to look back towards the fort, but Rufus wrapped his arm and around her and pulled her down to the forest floor as a volley of musket fire exploded around them. As more yells echoed in the woods behind them, Lucy was just about to give in to her panic when suddenly, Wyatt was there before her, pale, trembling, and gripping at her arm. "We need to move, now!" he commanded, pulling her to her feet. Relieved that Wyatt was back with them, and apparently unhurt, Lucy couldn't help but pull him in for a desperate hug, but Wyatt quickly pushed himself away from her, reestablishing his grip on her arm as he pulled her forward. "I mean it, Lucy, we need to go, now!" he cried out desperately.
Chancing a glance over her shoulder, Lucy discovered, much to her alarm, that while the massacre of natives had mercifully stopped, they were now being pursued by a group of French soldiers. "Wyatt?" Lucy called out in panic as she stumbled slightly from the almost paralyzing fear that now had her heart in a vise grip.
He, however, only tugged her forward, urging her on wordlessly as the sounds of shouts and French exclamations could be heard seemingly all around them as they raced through the woods as fast as their feet could carry them. As they made their way through a particularly thick section of wood, they made their way down a steep slope towards the river, where an outcropping of rock and several tall pines shielded them from the view of anyone who might be looking down from the ridge above. Thankful for the protection until they could catch their breath and recover, the three team mates gasped for breath as they sank down on shaking knees. "What the hell?" Wyatt finally panted out. "I thought the French and the Indians were on the same side in this war?"
"Not all of them" Lucy answered as she swallowed down the bile that was working its way up her throat, the stitch in her side causing her to grunt in pain.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rufus asked in confusion.
"It means what it means." Lucy spat back sharply. "If you two would ever let me do my job, you might know these things." The relief at seeing Wyatt alive wearing off, she smacked him on the arm, "What were you thinking?" she admonished angrily. "Why did you run off like that?"
Wyatt stared back at her in outrage, throwing down a stuffed saddle bag as he did so, "I was doing my job. he argued, "We needed food, we needed supplies…you should be thanking me for literally walking into a damn massacre so you could have something to eat tonight…thanks for that heads up, by the way."
"Thank…" Lucy gaped at him open-mouthed, her face flushed with anger, "You think I knew that was going to happen?"
Wyatt shrugged, "You're the historian."
"Yes, but…"
Raising his hand to silence her, Wyatt motioned for Rufus and Lucy to tuck themselves further against the outcropping of rock as the sound of approaching horses sounded along the road above them. Raising a finger to his lips, Wyatt kept a steady eye on the little movement he could see through the thick leaf—filled branches above them. He had his weapon withdrawn, ready to defend them against anyone who might make their way down the slope and discover them.
But no one did.
It was only a few moments before the French soldiers rode off, but for the huddled group of time travelers, it felt more like an eternity as the shouts of French soldiers echoed above them and thunder of hooves made the ground tremble under their feet. When the last of the hoof beats died away and all was quiet once more, Wyatt let out a shaky breath, "That was close."
"What happened back there?" Lucy demanded as Wyatt opened up the saddlebag and began unwrapping provisions.
"Aren't you the one who is supposed to be telling me that?" he asked without so much as glancing up at her.
"Not that." Lucy gritted out, "I'm talking about back at the fort. Did they see you?"
Wyatt let out a derisive chuckle, "Well, let's just say I just about got my head blown off my musket fire when that axe-wielding psycho finished up with the last of the natives. They caught sight of me just as I was making a run for it." he sat back on his haunches and pointed an accusing finger towards the ridge, "Now, why don't you tell me why we just sat through a damn massacre? I thought you said this war hadn't started yet?"
"I told you," Lucy gritted out, "tensions are high."
Wyatt and Rufus exchanged dubious looks, "Lucy," Wyatt stated in frustration, "don't you think that's a bit of an understatement?"
Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Lucy threw herself down on the ground, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she stared daggers at him, "I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen."
"You tried to tell me, what? You didn't say a damn thing about a massac…."
"No," Lucy corrected, "I didn't….I didn't know that was going to happen, but it doesn't really surprise me…if those Native Americans were who I think they were."
"Who were they?" Rufus asked meekly.
"If I were to guess, those…men we saw…were most likely part of the Iroquois Confederation. This land used to belong to them, but the French came in and basically took over this whole region…and not just here. They technically had more land in North America than the British did…not as many colonists, obviously, but Canada, all the way down the Mississippi was considered part of the French empire."
"So the French and Indian war is about the French and Indians fighting each other, then?" Rufus asked.
Lucy shook her head, "No, the French had allies among the native population, but not all of the Native Americans sided with the French. The Iroquois, Catawba and Cherokee tribes sided with the British." Lucy explained as she raised a shaky hand to her forehead. "In fact, the Iroquois had significant control over this region just before the French came along…so, for them, this was about regaining control of their territory."
"By siding with other people who would eventually take their territory?" Rufus asked skeptically. "Yeah, that worked out well for them, didn't it?"
"They didn't know that at the time." Lucy maintained. "I mean, hindsight is 20/20…even after the American Revolution this was still part of New France….it didn't become part of what will be the United States until the Louisiana Purchase in 1803."
'Alright, so you have a bunch of pissed of Native Americans who want their land back, so they form this Confederation?" Wyatt asked gruffly.
"Yes and no." Lucy explained. "This confederation was formed by six Indian tribes sometime between 1570 and 1600. Ever hear of Hiawatha? He was basically the one chosen to lead it in the beginning. It started as an effort to bring the tribes together, to stand against invasion and to promote peace and civil authority…basically a rule of law."
"So what happened?" Rufus asked.
Lucy shrugged, "Well, the usual. Dutch traders from New York sold the Iroquois weapons and as French fur traders began encroaching on their territory, bringing disease, among other things, the Iroquois fought back, matching them in firepower. This goes on for decades…colonists were killed, kidnapped and vice versa…and soon the confederacy began to split between Francophiles and Anglophiles."
"So, what…this is like their Civil War?" asked Rufus.
"I guess you could call it that." Lucy sighed, "Although there are more tribes involved than just those that made up the Iroquois Confederacy."
"Okay," Wyatt pressed, "that still doesn't explain why French soldiers would attack in the way that they did. I mean, maybe I'm looking at this all wrong, but if those Native Americans were enemies, then why not just shoot them?"
A look of satisfaction stole across Lucy's face as she slowly turned her head to face Wyatt, "Because," she began pointedly, "of the Battle of Jumonville Glen." Uttering those final words, slowly and meaningfully, Lucy drove the point home by offering Wyatt a piercing glare.
He stared back at her, recalling the many times she had tried to tell him about the battle only to be cut off by his growing impatience. Sighing heavily, Wyatt rubbed a hand over his weary eyes, "Fine…what happened at this Battle of Jumonville Glen?"
Feeling slightly vindicated, Lucy tossed her head back slightly as she explained, "At this time, the confederacy was essentially led by a man known as the Half-King by the British, his real name varies in the historical account, but most agree it was Tanacharison. He despised the French," Lucy explained, "so when the British colonies began working on a plan to peacefully remove the French from the Ohio Valley, he was more than willing to help them out."
"Something tells me it didn't go so peacefully…" Rufus muttered with raised eyebrows.
Shaking her head, Lucy continued, "In May of this year, he joined George Washington as a guide to French outposts throughout the Ohio Valley. Washington had been ordered by the Governor of Virginia essentially go out and tell the French to pack it up and move on, but you can imagine how well that went over. Lucy shook her head, "When they refused, Tanacharison suggested the British build a fort at the fork of the Ohio River…"
"Wait a minute, I thought the French had a fort there?" Rufus asked. "Isn't that what we've been looking for…this Fort Duquesne?"
"It's one in the same…the French captured it with an army of men, a thousand strong. This, of course, didn't go over well at all with the British or Tanacharison. Instead of driving the French out, the French were now more established in the region and," she motioned towards the ridge, "still building more forts."
'They weren't going anywhere." Wyatt stated with a nod.
"No." Lucy responded grimly. "In retaliation, Tanacharison joined with the British troops under Washington and surrounded the French encampment at…Jumonville Glen." She swallowed hard as she raised a shaking hand to her forehead, as if trying to push back the memory of what she had just witnessed as she tried to explain the reason for it all, "No one quite knows for sure…but what is most accepted and widely circulated account is that the French were eating breakfast and the British soldiers fired down on them, killing more than a dozen and wounding many others. When the French realized they were surrounded and in a very vulnerable position, they surrendered."
"Well, that's not so bad…" Rufus began, but Lucy shook her head at him slowly.
"The French commander, Joseph Coulon de Jumonville was among the wounded…he sent out a note to Washington telling him that theirs was a peaceful mission. They were only in the area to try to come to an understanding with the British…whether that's true or whether that's what his note even said, no one quite knows for sure. What is known is that while Washington was attempting to have the note translated, Tanacharison walked up to Jumonville, bashed his head in with a hatchet, scooped out his brains, washed his hands in them, ate them, and then finally scalped him." Lucy shuddered, "After that, it was a bloodbath. All of the wounded men, except one were viciously killed by Tanacharison's men."
"And Washington just let it happen?" Wyatt asked in disbelief.
"He was only a second lieutenant…it was his first command," Lucy explained weakly, "I think he was just horrified and not sure what to do. He may have been allied with the Native Americans, but he didn't like or trust them…he knew in many ways, they were playing both sides of this whole thing, and well, when things like this happen…" Wyatt nodded his head in grim understanding as Lucy continued, "…but he also couldn't navigate this area without them."
"So, I'm guessing what we saw tonight was, what? Retaliation?" Wyatt asked.
"Could very well be." Lucy shrugged. "And this isn't just an isolated incident, things like this will happen throughout the war. In fact, in 1757, the French soldiers look on as their Indian allies attack the British colonists fleeing Fort William Henry. Men, women, even children."
"Wait a minute…that's…that's what happened in The Last of the Mohicans" cried Rufus.
Lucy nodded, "Yeah, that's the battle James Fenimore Cooper was writing about. Once the fort was surrendered, the Indians made their way into the fort and began killing the wounded. Then they surrounded the camp of British colonists who were fleeing to Fort Edward…and massacred them the next morning…the women and children they didn't kill, they kidnapped.
"Well, I guess that makes what we saw tonight make a little more sense. Guess that Half-king guy sort of set the precedent…so much for promoting peace and civil authority." Wyatt snarked as he unwrapped some dried beef, offering it up to Lucy and Rufus.
"You're seriously not thinking about eating that, are you?" Rufus asked as he stared at Wyatt incredulously.
"I thought you were hungry?" Wyatt asked huffily.
"Yeah…I was hungry…ya know before I saw people literally being butchered," Rufus stammered uncomfortably, "but you know…you go right ahead."
Rolling his eyes at him, Wyatt reached into the satchel and tossed Rufus a bottle, "Here…I found this in the Officer's tent…maybe it will help take the edge off."
Uncorking the unmarked flask, Rufus took a whiff and threw his head back, "Oh that's potent." he choked out as the stench of alcohol filled the air, "pretty sure you could use this stuff to power up a small plane."
"Too bad they haven't been invented yet." Muttered Lucy as she grabbed the bottle from a coughing Rufus' hand. Thinking Lucy was going to lecture them both on the evils of drinking on the job, Wyatt let out an exasperated sigh and steeled himself for her scolding, but none came. Instead, Lucy wiped off the top of the bottle and took a long drink, gasping and sputtering as she swallowed the liquid down, "That's horrible." she choked out, but before Wyatt or Rufus could comment, she raised the bottle to her lips once more and took another one.
"Hey! Save some for the rest of us." Wyatt admonished as he wrenched the bottle away from her. "Weren't you the one who gave me hell for drinking before that first mission?"
"This is different." Lucy wheezed, "I'm thirsty…and well, I think we all could use a drink after," she swallowed hard, "all of that." Wyatt stilled and nodded, understanding and remembering, as a military man, what the horrors of war were like on his first assignment. So far, they had been lucky. Lucy may have gotten an up, close and personal view of Lincoln's assassination, they might have all been fighting for their lives at the Alamo, watching scores of men die all around them, but there was something about hand to hand combat, something about bayoneting, or as in this case, hacking someone to death with an axe that took the level of brutality to a whole different level. For Wyatt, learning those techniques and dealing with them as part of his job as a Delta Force operative, he knew what it was like to grapple with someone in a desperate fight to the death. It didn't make it any easier, but he, at least, had been trained. Lucy was a college professor. She had never asked for this, never signed up to do anything but be their walking, talking encyclopedia of sorts…hell, in the white-collar life she lived, he doubted she had ever seen so much as a fist fight before all of this insanity came into her life.
"You okay?" Wyatt asked as he lifted the bottle towards her, "you…you want another drink?"
"No." Lucy said with a shake of her head, "I'm good, thanks." She muttered as she chanced to offer him a small smile…one that, to her surprise, amazement and relief, he returned. Already feeling a bit better, whether from the strong shot of alcohol she had just consumed or the care and concern that Wyatt was now showing towards her, she didn't know for sure. What she did know was that Wyatt was starting to act like his old self again…and she was going to do everything she could not to mess that up. She meant what she said that day in the Alamo…she didn't want anybody else in this job…she trusted Wyatt…and she wanted nothing more than to be the person he could trust again. Yes, she had given him reason to doubt her, but as he stood there, next to her, observing her intently as if trying to assure himself that she really was okay, she knew that she would do everything in her power to make sure that she never gave him reason to question his faith in her again. She didn't care what it took, she would earn it back, if it was the last thing she did. As if to make good on that resolve, Lucy pointed to a rip in his jacket, "How about you? You okay? Kind of a close call, there."
Wyatt took a drink for himself, grimacing at the clear liquid burned down his throat. "I'm alright." he acknowledged with a nod, handing the bottle over to Rufus. "I'll just be happy when we can get the hell out of here, that's all."
"That makes two of us." Rufus said with a nod as took the bottle from Wyatt. "Let's just hope when we finally get to Fort Duquesne, Flynn is actually there and we didn't do all of this for nothing."
Lucy froze as her eyes darted to Rufus, but Wyatt, it appeared, had completely missed Rufus' full meaning. "Yeah." he said with a thoughtful nod, prompting Lucy to let out a sigh of relief. That relief was short lived, however, when Wyatt narrowed his eyes in confusion and confronted a suddenly contrite Rufus. "Wait a minute," Wyatt asked, "where else would Flynn be?" he turned to Lucy, "You said that he would be most likely be at Fort Duquesne, right? That, that was really the only thing around here?"
Lucy continued to glare at Rufus who was looking like a deer caught in headlights. Taking a quick swig from the bottle, Rufus doubled over in a hacking cough as Lucy stammered out an answer, "Y…yes," she mumbled as she moved her gaze from Rufus' sheepish face to her wringing hands, "If Flynn is here, he would be at Fort Duquesne, it's the only thing that makes sense…for this year…I, mean."
"What do you mean "if"?" Wyatt asked, the tension in his voice increasing, "Either Flynn is here or he's not here." He cast accusatory glares between Lucy and Rufus, "So which is it? Is Flynn here, or isn't he?"
"We don't know." Rufus mumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
"What was that?" Wyatt asked angrily, rounding on him.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." Rufus answered, but Wyatt wasn't having it. If there was one thing Rufus was not, it was a good liar.
Narrowing his eyes, Wyatt slowly approached Rufus, "You want to try that again?" Rufus swallowed hard and gave an indiscernible shake of his head, "What did you say about Flynn, Rufus?"
Cowering under Wyatt's piercing gaze, Rufus shifted uncomfortably next to Lucy, insisting that he hadn't meant a thing by what he said when Lucy blurted out, "We don't know if Flynn is here or not. This whole mission could be a red herring."
Wyatt stepped back from Rufus in confusion, "What do you mean this could be a red herring?" His eyes darted between Rufus and Lucy each one refusing to meet his eye, "Flynn did jump to 1754, didn't he?" Lucy and Rufus kept their eyes trained to the forest floor, neither one daring to lift their heads, "DIDN'T HE?" bellowed Wyatt.
"Yes" Rufus said with a frantic nod, "technically Flynn made the jump to 1754, but we don't know what happened after." Rufus said quickly, before pointing an accusatory finger at Lucy, "she's the one who thought that Flynn might have come here to throw us off."
"Me?" Lucy gasped, "No, I just said I wasn't sure why he picked 1754 when the battle that pretty much decided everything isn't until exactly four years later in September of 1758. You were the one who said Flynn could be jumping here only to turn around and jump again to 1758."
"What the hell are you two talking about?" Wyatt gritted out angrily, his eyes darting between the two of them.
Taking a deep breath, Lucy explained, "Look, as I've told you…nothing happens in September of 1754. The early battles that were fought this year happened months ago, so why Flynn chose this particular date is a bit of a mystery." She pointed a shaky finger at Rufus, "I only said that the Battle of Fort Duquense takes place exactly four years from now, in September 1758, he was the one who said this whole thing could be a trick."
"Are you telling me," Wyatt growled, his face flushed red in anger, "that we've spent two days traipsing through the damn woods for nothing?'
"No." Lucy maintained to Wyatt, "We don't know anything for sure." Poking Rufus roughly in the arm, she turned on him and whispered harshly, "I told you we should've told him."
"How long have you known this?!" Wyatt spat out angrily.
Lucy cast her eyes to the ground, her guilt refusing to allow her to meet Wyatt's heated gaze. "Since before we left Mason." She admitted in a small voice. "It's what we were talking about when we got into the Lifeboat."
"And you didn't think it was important enough to tell me?" Wyatt growled. At Lucy's silence, he scoffed, "No, of course not. Why would it be? You didn't tell me about the journal….why the hell would you tell me about this? I'm just the damn hired gun." he snapped as he stepped away from their small camp and out into the expansive, dark forest.
Wyatt's words cut through her like a knife. Here she was stupidly believing she could earn back his trust, but she and Rufus had been sitting on their suspicions about Flynn this whole time.
"Hey!" Rufus shouted as he chased Wyatt out into the clearing, "What the hell were we supposed to do? You were in such a piss ass mood when we were at Mason, biting our heads off left and right and then we jump and you're already pissed as hell because we forgot to bring the map, were we really supposed to tell you in the middle of all of that that oh by the way, Flynn may not even be here?"
"Yes!" Wyatt spat out. "Better than wasting all this damn time, better than almost getting killed. Dammit, Rufus, Flynn could be anywhere by now!" He stared angrily at the two of them as they hung their heads in shame, unable to meet his eye. "You two want to keep secrets, fine." Wyatt spat out, frustration and hurt evident in his voice. "But you're gonna have to find somebody else. I need to get the hell out of here."
"Wyatt!" Lucy called out in panic as he began stalking off into the night, "where are you going? Wyatt!" But there wasn't even a falter in his quick and determined step; he was angrier even than he had been in 1972 and Lucy knew that it was going to take a small miracle to ever get him to trust either one of them again. Their team was broken. Whatever small progress she had believed they had been decidedly swept away by this latest revelation. She watched him disappear into the forest, the darkness enveloping him, feeling completely and utterly alone and exposed.
Which was silly, because she wasn't alone.
"Do you think he's coming back?" came Rufus's worried voice from behind her.
"I don't know." Lucy moaned as she held her head in her hands. She could feel the wave of panic cresting over her like a tsunami. They were in the middle of the 18th century Pennsylvania wilderness, surrounded by hostiles, miles away from the Lifeboat, and now they had no protection; neither she nor Rufus knew the first thing about navigation or the great outdoors, "What are we going to do?" she sobbed as her knees gave way, causing her to sink down on the ground in helpless heap.
Rufus was nervously pacing in front of her, biting his thumb, "He's got to come back, right? I mean, I'm his ride home. Wyatt may be bad ass, but even he wouldn't want to live out his life in 1754."
A tiny bubble of hope began to grow in Lucy's chest. Rufus was right, Wyatt needed them to get home. He would never risk staying behind on a mission…except…he almost did. During the Alamo mission, he was ready to sacrifice his life so that he could buy them the time to get out. What had he said? Everybody I care about is gone. At the time, Lucy had pleaded with him, trying to get him to see that he mattered to her…to them. Even if he didn't care about them in the same way, he needed to know that he was more than just a hired gun.
He was Wyatt.
But now, with this latest betrayal…"Oh my God, Rufus…." Lucy gasped as she sprang to her feet in panic, "what if he doesn't come back? What if we never find him? What if we never get back to the Lifeboat?"
In three strides, Rufus was at Lucy's side, "Whoa, whoa….calm down, Lucy…okay? I'm sure he'll be back. He just needs some time to cool off…and if he doesn't…" Rufus trailed off, looking into Lucy's desperate and anxious face, "We're going to get through this, alright? You and me. Wyatt taught us a few things, right?" Rufus nodded his head, "Yeah…I mean, what's that thing he always says? One thing at a time? We make it up as we go?" Rufus began pacing again, "Right, so….what do we need first? Shelter? We can stay here tonight. Food? We've got that weird jerky Wyatt stole from the French camp. Water? We've got the river…"
"We're not supposed to drink that water." Lucy reminded him with a sniff, "Dysentery."
"Yeah, but what did Wyatt say? It was fine if we could boil it and," he held up the bottle of alcohol in his hand, "we now have something to boil it in." Rufus shrugged, "Now, I just need to figure out how to start a fire."
Lucy couldn't help it, she smiled at Rufus, grateful that in the horrible circumstance they had found themselves in, he had kept his head. He swept passed her and began digging through the saddlebag Wyatt had procured, searching for anything that might prove useful. Lucy sat down next to him as he rummaged through the stolen goods, staring out at the shimmering ripples of the river as they danced in the moonlight. If the situation were different, she might have considered this spot idyllic, despite the horrors they had witnessed that day. The sound of the rushing river was relaxing, the tall pines they were surrounded by, a more comfortable shelter than the cave of the previous evening, and looking up, the moon was almost full, but the thousands of stars that flooded the night sky absolutely took her breath away. She was about to nudge Rufus in order to point them out, when her gaze fell upon an elongated box that he had apparently pulled out of the bag and cast off to the side. "Rufus," Lucy muttered as she took it in her hand and examined it, "I think this is what you're looking for."
Dropping the saddle bag, he turned to her in confusion as she slid open the top and produced a piece of flint and a curved piece of steel. "Um…and this would be?" he asked in confusion as he took the elaborately curved piece of metal she held in the palm of her hand.
"This," Lucy explained as Rufus handed her back the curled piece of steel, "is a tinderbox. It's what they used before matches were invented. You strike the flint onto the steel and the spark it produces, lights one of these…" she expounded as she reached into the delicately handcrafted box, "a sulfur matchstick. Obviously, it's not like the matches we know…these are really just pieces of wood dipped in a sulfuric acid…but in these days, it was quicker and more reliable than using kindling."
"You're telling me this is going to help me start a fire?" Rufus asked doubtfully. "I get that flint and steel can make a spark, but getting that spark to ignite…"
"Would you rather rub sticks together?" Lucy asked sardonically. "Look, I know that it's not as simple as what we're used to, but this is the best that we've got." She swallowed hard as she looked at him desperately, "All we have to do is try."
"You're right." Rufus said with a nod after a while, a look of sheer determination and grit on his face. "Um…gather up some stones, small branches, leaves…whatever it is people use for campfires. We're going to boil some water."
Wyatt could hear Lucy calling for him, but right now he didn't care. He just needed some time away from her…from them, before he said something he would regret. Well, maybe he wouldn't regret it right away…but he knew he would inevitably feel bad about it, even if they didn't deserve his good graces.
He was pissed.
No. That was an understatement. He was beyond pissed. Right now, he was wishing that he had just humored Homeland Security, tucked his tail between his legs, and flew back to Pendleton after that failed Alamo mission. Why hadn't he just let them fire him? It was clear now that whatever the hell Lucy had said to him then was a damn lie. They didn't need him, they didn't trust him…if they did, they sure as hell wouldn't be keeping secrets from him left and right, would they?
He was promised a team when he signed up for these missions, damn it. In his mind, a team would be comprised of elite fighters and survivors, like he was; a group of men and women who knew how to handle a weapon, knew what it was to put your life in the hands of your fellows in arms, knew what it was to serve and defend…but what he got was a high-strung historian and an engineer whose only experience with violence was in the movies he watched and the video games he played. Neither one of them seemed up to the task…and he had to admit, before and even during that first mission he had his doubts.
Then they began to surprise him. They both took on more than he had ever expected them too, that was for sure; but he also hadn't expected either one of them to betray his trust like they had. He thought that maybe, after all that mess with Flynn, they had realized what they had done was wrong. They were just civilians, after all, and he couldn't expect them to have the same outlooks on teamwork and trust as he did. In the military, working together, trusting one another, was a matter of life and death. Given the more academic backgrounds of Lucy and Rufus, he could never imagine either of them ever having to literally put their lives in the hands of someone else on a regular basis…not until these missions started anyway.
That was why, this morning, he was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. He tried to teach them what it was to have to survive, to trust, to work together…and yet again, they had kept secrets from him…and it wasn't like this one could be explained away by ignorance. No. Why the hell wouldn't you mention the fact that this could all very well be a damn wild goose chase…particularly when you've spent two damn days trekking through the woods?
Wyatt cursed again, throwing a stick somewhere off into the distance as he realized it would be another two-day trek back to the Lifeboat; another two days trying to survive in the God-forsaken wilderness surrounded by two people he couldn't depend on, two people he was obligated to assist…if, for no other reason than he couldn't make it home without them. Of course, it wasn't in his nature to leave people behind to die anyway….and no matter what Lucy and Rufus did to him, he wouldn't abandon them, even if he did know how to operate that damn time machine. But one thing was clear, he would have to rely on himself to get them back to the present safely. They couldn't be trusted, they couldn't be counted on…he was effectively alone…and that was not what he was promised when he began these missions.
Taking a deep breath, Wyatt resolved right then and there, that once they landed in the present, he would ask to be reassigned. His reputation for getting the job done was being called into question every time they came back without results. Flynn was still torching his way through history and he had nothing to show for it; nothing but lack of sleep and a lot of hurt and disappointment. Bam Bam was waiting in the wings, he could take over at a moment's notice, so his removal would cause little to no disruption for the operation at large. There really was no reason why he should subject himself to this humiliation any further, better to get out while he could before things got any worse.
That resolve should have made him feel better…but it didn't. Somewhere in the inner workings of his heart he felt a tug, an ache, that he couldn't readily explain.
The subtle smell of smoke called Wyatt out of his inner musings, causing him to spin around in alarm. A forest fire was something that would cause significant problems for them, for not just the obvious reasons. Apart from the possibility of injury, smoke inhalation and being burned alive, the destruction of their source of cover, their shelter, could have dangerous consequences for them as they made their way back to the Lifeboat. Peering through the darkness, Wyatt caught sight of a soft orange glow casting ominous shadows against the trees, coming from where he had just left Lucy and Rufus.
Shit.
Racing towards the light, Wyatt tripped and stumbled over tree roots and slick leaves until finally he found himself sliding down the steep slope towards a cheery campfire and his two companions who spun around in surprise at the sight of him.
Ignoring their exclamations of relief at the sight of him, Wyatt immediately raced over to the camp fire and began frantically stomping it out, causing Rufus to gape at him, affronted, "Hey! Do you know how long it took me to start that thing?"
Wyatt, however, ignored him and continued to pound away at the flames, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he gritted out in frustration, "Do you have any idea what you've done? Before Rufus or Lucy could answer, however, the sound of hoof beats sounded all around them, causing the ground to shake beneath their feet as they stood there, almost paralyzed with fear. "Run!" Wyatt commanded as he took off at a sprint. Following his lead, Rufus and Lucy raced after him, sprinting through the woods as limbs slapped at their faces and tugged at their clothes all the while the sound of beating hooves and shouts seemed to surround them on all sides.
You just had to build a fire, didn't you?" Wyatt spat out as they ran at a break neck pace.
"Well, how was I supposed to know they would see it?" Rufus argued as a branch slapped him hard on the arm.
"You do know fire makes light, right?" Wyatt countered in exasperated incredulity. Looking behind him he could see Lucy, her skirts raised, running as fast as she could, but noting with horror a group of horsemen crashing through the forest just behind her. There was no way they could out run them, no way they could take a stand…but they didn't need to. No sooner had Wyatt turned his attention back to the forest in front of him, then he came to an abrupt halt in front of a line of French soldiers, their muskets pointed directly at him. Raising his hands in surrender, he cast sideways glances at a breathless Lucy and Rufus, both of them looking terrified and remorseful as the French soldiers closed in and took them prisoner.
Notes:
Okay so this puts us (FINALLY) to the actual beginning of the episode. Things will not follow that narrative...though you will see snippets of the familiar, I have tried to weave as much from the episode as possible, but as the episode has them basically 40 miles round trip and Rufus becoming a blacksmith in a matter of a few minutes, this will most definitely be different.
For readers of WMHB, please know that I am working on that story as well. I have the next chapter essentially finished, but I'm not posting it until I get the other two chapters pretty much done. I've got some CRAZY things happening and I'm TERRIFIED I'm going to screw something up with the set up and delivery, so I'm waiting until it's all down in narrative form, so I can read it back to myself and make sure that all the important pieces are there. This twist and the mission will not follow what we know in the General at all, so please bear with me as I write the rest of that story out - notes do not always translate the same in narrative form, so I want to make sure I have execute everything the way I have plotted it out and that it doesn't get lost in the narrative. In the end, it will benefit you...because I will post the last chapters in quick succession, so you won't have to suffer through a long cliffhanger.
I hope you enjoyed this update!
As always, I appreciate your reading. And those of you who take the time to review, thank you for that...it's always nice to hear from you!