Chapter 12
Kid's last day at Camp Douglas was spent like all the others, assisting Henry with the patients and talking with the men. He saw two more soldiers die from the dysentery that plagued the camp, and felt some grim relief that they would be last he would have to endure. Once he had escaped and returned to Virginia, he would do whatever necessary to let the right people know about the terrible conditions at the Chicago prison camp. Even if he had to go to President Davis himself. Kid didn't believe the Confederacy could know of what was happening there and not be doing anything about it. He was determined to continue helping the men, this time from the outside. He would return to the army, if that's what it took, continue to fight if he was needed. But not before he found Lou and knew she was safe. The army would just have to wait for that.
Polk got word out to the camp that his men had to get to the hospital that day if they were to be part of the escape. Three of them made it, groaning in agony as they feigned sickness to gain entry. Kid himself got them settled into the same crowded ward as Polk, noting that little acting was needed from the men who were starved and shivering with cold. But there was still a grin on their faces when they realized that Kid was part of their band now. Nothing could dampen their anticipation of finally escaping the hell they were in.
A bitterly cold night fell. The men bedded down and were soon asleep, despite the howling wind outside. The stoves littered throughout the ward provided some warmth, and cast a dull light around them that Polk's men used to signal to each other that they were ready. They just had to wait for the Kid to retrieve the key and they would be on their way.
Kid had to wait until Henry went to bed. They stayed up and talked together as usual, Henry still worried about what sickness the rest of the winter might bring the camp. His letters for more supplies were going unanswered by the Union army, and he was growing increasingly frustrated by the continued lack of concern for the prisoners.
"I tell you, Kid, there's no honor in this," Henry sighed, swallowing the last of his weak coffee.
"I know," Kid replied gravely. It was difficult to keep the bitterness from his voice, even though he knew it wasn't Henry's fault.
Kid tried to remember that he was angry at Henry for not telling him about the fighting in Virginia, but he knew this would be the last time he would see the doctor for a while, maybe ever. For all the talk of meeting up together out West, Kid knew anything could happen before the end of the war. Henry had been his friend, saved his life and looked out for him as best he could. Because of this Kid could forgive him in time, but it wasn't enough to stop him from taking this chance to leave Camp Douglas.
"I suppose I should turn in," Henry said, stretching as he stood up from the chair behind his desk. "I swear I never felt so old as I do now, ever since I got sick."
Kid stood too. He couldn't say goodbye to Henry, couldn't say anything that might raise the doctor's suspicions. Instead he took a long, last look at the young blond doctor, taking in his kind face which still bore faint pock marks from his illness. Suddenly Kid was filled with the hope that they would meet up again some day, that Lou could know him too, and Henry could fulfill his dream of working out West and learning more about Indian medicine. He silently wished his friend well.
"I'll say goodnight then, Henry."
"Goodnight, Kid." Henry smiled and picked up a book from his desk to read a little before sleep.
Kid followed him out of the office and waited until Henry disappeared into the room which the doctors shared off the ward. Now it was just matter of waiting.
The next few hours were torturous – Kid wondered if they would ever pass. His thoughts were filled with the freedom that was theirs, just waiting on the other side of the camp fence. He remembered the instructions Polk had given him about what would happen once they were out – they would get away as far and as fast as possible before daylight, heading south into the woods beyond the camp grounds. From there they would set out for the closest Confederate lines.
"Pack light, we'll get what we can along the way. We'll meet up with the army soon as we find out where they are," Polk had told him that afternoon. "Just a canteen, whatever food you can get and a blanket, all right?"
Kid nodded.
"Does that doctor of yours have a gun?" asked Polk.
"He has a pistol in his desk, he once told me. I ain't never seen it."
"Find it if you can, we may need it if we run into some trouble outside."
Kid remembered those words now as he waited for the early hours of the morning. He didn't dare close his eyes, even though he knew sleep would be an impossibility. Finally, he reasoned, enough time had passed for him to sneak into Henry's office for the key. He slipped silently from his bed and the few feet to the door which was closed except for a crack. It creaked as he opened it and Kid winced as he closed it again behind him. He waited for a minute or two to be on the safe side, then lit the small lantern on Henry's desk.
The set of keys were in the top drawer under the doctor's notebook. Kid pocketed them immediately and checked the others for the pistol. His search proved fruitless until he struck the locked bottom drawer – this must be where Henry had secreted the weapon, he thought. Kid rummaged through the other drawers, this time looking for the key for the small lock. Minutes passed and he found nothing. Kid was growing agitated and was about to give up and go ahead without the gun, no matter what Polk said. It was then that he flipped through Henry's notebook and found the drawer key fastened to one of the pages.
With a wry smile at the doctor's lax security measures, Kid unlocked the bottom drawer. As anticipated, the pistol was there among bundles of other papers. He placed it in his pocket along with what ammunition he could find. There wasn't much, but at least they had a gun. Kid rifled through a few of the papers on the off chance Henry also had some money hidden there, money which could be used to buy food or other weapons if they needed to, when he saw the envelope.
Kid frowned as he pulled the familiar looking object from underneath the other papers. He pulled it close to his face in order to make out the writing on the front. It was in his own hand. It was a letter he had written to Lou, and some time ago at that. Kid didn't understand. He plunged his hand into the drawer again, pulling out the papers to reveal more envelopes. Kid's breathing becoming ragged as he snatched them up and held them in his hands – they were all letters to Lou. He had been writing to her faithfully all this time, and Henry had said he would mail them. But there they were, every single one of them.
Anger burned within Kid. Henry had lied to him, but why? Why would he keep Lou's letters? He barely had time to gather himself before he heard the door to the office close with a click.
"What are you doing in here, Kid?" Henry asked quietly.
Kid looked up with a start. The gun and the keys were in his pocket but he still held his letters. His temper flared at the sight of the doctor standing there in his dressing gown so calmly.
"Why?" Kid managed to gasp, barely able to speak through clenched teeth. He stood and held up the letters to show Henry what he had found.
Henry took a few steps closer to the desk, his eyes on the floor.
"You're supposed to be asleep, not breaking into my desk."
"These are my letters," growled Kid. "All my letters to my wife."
Henry inhaled deeply and exhaled before continuing. "Yes, they are."
Kid's eyes narrowed, his brow creased. He shook his head, not understanding. "How could you do this to me? You said you would take care of them."
"I did what I thought was best, Kid," Henry said evenly, as he walked towards Kid behind the desk.
"Best for who?
"For you, of course."
Kid was baffled. "How could lyin' to me be what's best? Keepin' my letters from Lou? Does she even know where I am? That I'm alive?"
"That's not for me to say."
Kid bristled at the calmness in Henry's demeanor, as if he was void of emotion.
"How could you do this to me?" Kid repeated.
"Listen to me, Kid, I had to keep you from the fighting. You're safe away from there."
"What are you talkin' about?"
"Don't you see? If I hadn't prevented it, you would have been part of the prisoner exchanges – they'd have sent you back to fight and be killed," said Henry, urgency creeping into his voice as he tried to explain. "I didn't save your life in Washington for you to be slaughtered like all those other men. I'm your friend. I didn't want you to be killed."
Kid now understood why he had always been excluded from the prisoner exchanges. "That wasn't your choice to make, Henry."
"Maybe not, but you made yours to stay here. You could have taken the oath and agreed to fight for the Union, and you would have been set free. But you didn't, you stayed."
"You know I could never fight against Virginia," Kid stammered. "I didn't leave everythin' behind to fight against my home."
"I was just trying to keep you from fighting at all, don't you understand?"
"But the letters to Lou? What did that have to do with these?" His shaking hands held up the bundles of envelopes.
"If she knew where you were she could have petitioned for your exchange," Henry explained rationally.
Kid's fists clenched, the paper crumpling in his grip.
"All this time," he murmured, staring at his hands as the anger boiled within him. "All this time she's had no word from me? She'll think I'm dead!"
"Better than you actually being dead, Kid," Henry said sternly, pulling the letters from his hands and placing them onto the desk. "This way you actually have a chance of going home to her. Don't you see, this damn war…"
Kid took a step back, his face darkening further. "All I see is a coward. I trusted you."
Henry sighed. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Kid. But you'll see it's for the best."
"No." Kid pulled the gun from his pocket and aimed it at Henry.
"What are you doing?" said Henry, blanching.
"I'm leavin'. I ain't stayin' here no more."
"Don't be ridiculous, Kid. You're a prisoner of war, you're staying here until the war is over or you're released. I'll do whatever I can to get you home to Virginia to find your wife when that time comes. I promise."
"No. I'm leavin' tonight."
Henry wrapped his robe about his middle, and raised his chin defiantly despite the shakiness he felt in his legs.
"You know I can't let you do that. I'm a doctor in a Union prison camp, Kid. I'm from the North. I can't let you just walk out of here."
"You're gonna have to let me go, Henry," Kid stated firmly. "I have your keys to the room where they take all the dead Southerners from this damn place. I'm goin' home to find Lou."
"They'll shoot you down before you even get a few feet from the prison."
"I'll take my chances."
"I'm afraid I can't allow that." Henry took a step closer to him. "You'll have to go through me."
Kid nodded. "If that's the way it has to be."
"What are you going to do? Shoot me, Kid?" Henry asked skeptically. "You'd shoot a friend?"
"You ain't no friend of mine, Henry Wilkinson." Kid cocked the gun and motioned to the chair behind the doctor. "Sit down."
Henry, wide-eyed, complied with the order. Kid pressed the gun to his chest as he reached down and pulled free the waist cord from his robe. He pocketed the pistol then, and began to tie his hands. Suddenly Henry pushed forward, shoving Kid out of the way as he lurched from the chair. Kid swiftly pounced on his back, and they both fell heavily to the floor. Henry turned over onto his back, struggling wildly, but Kid had the upper hand and soon had the doctor's hands tied tightly.
"HEL–" Henry started to yell but Kid's hands clamped down on his mouth before he could finish the cry.
Kid used his body weight to press down on Henry's chest and mouth to stop him from making any noise.
"Stop movin'!" Kid gasped, their faces close together. "Just be quiet, Henry. I told you, I'm goin'."
Henry used all his strength to shake his head and continued to struggle, kicking at Kid with his legs. Kid knew they might be heard, and pressed down harder.
"God damn it, Henry, will you stop! I don't want to have to hurt you," Kid panted. The muscles in his arms were burning with the effort, his body draining of all energy. Kid knew he did not have half the strength he used to before the war.
Henry's face was turning red but he did not stop resisting. After a few seemingly endless moments, his wide, frightened eyes clamped firmly on Kid's, Henry's head started jerking against the hands which covered his nose and mouth. He tried to draw breath in long, agonizing gasps, his bound hands pounding against Kid's stomach.
"Damn you, Henry, stop fightin'!"
The doctor's eyes did not blink. The jerking of his head continued for another minute but then it slowed… then stopped. Kid looked at him, hoping he was going to cease grappling now so he could just leave. But Henry's stare was different now, his eyes fixed and glazed. Kid frowned and eased his hands away from his mouth in case he was wanted to tell him he could go. But Henry said nothing. Kid pushed himself up, the horrifying realization hitting him as he did so.
"Henry?" he whispered, shaking him gently by the shoulder. When there was no response he shook harder. "Henry!"
There was only silence. Kid sat back heavily, hitting the leg of the desk. He let out a gut wrenching sob. Henry lay there, his hands bound, a soulless gaze on his reddened face. Kid sat waiting, hoping, but there was no sound of breathing but his own. He drew his trembling hands to his head and held them there, unable to comprehend what he had just done.
Kid didn't know how long he sat there on the floor behind the desk. But eventually he rose in a daze, stumbling on uncertain feet, his body weakened and mind confused. He made it to the office door but it opened before he was able to place his hand on the knob. Kid reeled back in fright but it was Polk and the three other men who were to make their escape with him.
"What's takin' you so long?" Polk whispered menacingly.
Kid had no words to reply.
"You got the key?"
He nodded dumbly in response.
"And the gun?" Polk pushed past him and saw the dead man lying behind the desk. It was the doctor, Kid's friend. Polk looked back at the young man and saw the anguish in his features. He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and fixed him with a stern stare.
"Did you get the gun?" Polk asked.
Kid nodded again, his head barely moving.
"Then let's go, Kid. It's time to go home."
Polk stopped only long enough to blow out the lantern on the desk. In that last flash of light Kid had a last glimpse of Henry's face. It was a sight he knew would haunt him forever.