Chapter 7

The piercing sound woke Sam with a start. He threw off the covers, jumped to his feet, and pulled out the gun in one fluid movement. If Vivien thought his pulse was racing before, she would have been alarmed at it now. He could almost hear the blood pumping through his head as he turned his attention on Vivien and the dark figure standing at the window.

"What's going on?"

The figure moved toward the door and pounded on it. "Please, let me in!"

Sam and Vivien looked at each other. He tossed her his weapon, quickly retrieved another one of the handguns and loaded it, and cautiously approached the door.

"What do you want?"

"Just some shelter, mister! It's rainin' buckets out here!"

Sam turned the lock and opened the door, keeping the gun aimed at the man who came inside with his head down. Water rolled off the brim of his hat. He looked up at the gun, froze, and raised his hands. The man was young, maybe no more than nineteen or twenty. He was soaked to the skin, but even so they could see he was dressed in a gray wool uniform, a Civil War uniform to be precise. A musket was slung across his back.

"Give me that gun," Sam ordered. "Slowly."

He nodded and followed Sam's orders. "It's not like I can do anythin' with it, sir. My powder's all wet now." He dropped the musket at Sam's feet.

"Good. You got any knives or anything on you, drop them." When a large knife and a wicked looking bayonet lay on the floor, he directed him over to a chair. "Sit down by that fire and get dried off."

"Y-yes, sir."

Vivien closed the door and moved closer to Sam. "Did we go through a time warp or something?"

Sam picked up the young man's weapons and laid them on the opposite side of the room. Then he turned to him and asked, "What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"I'd ask the same thing of you, but that wouldn't be polite," he said with a smirk.

"Our plane crashed," Sam replied. "We're just holed up here for awhile until we can figure out where we are and how to get out of these woods."

"Plane? What's a plane?"

Sam and Vivien glanced at each other, and Sam let out a deep breath. "Oh boy." He turned back to the man and asked, "What's your name?"

"Jedediah Cox, sir. I'm just a lowly private in the Confederate Army." He looked Sam up and down. "I ain't never seen a uniform like that before. What branch of the service are you in?"

"I'm in the Navy. The United States Navy. And so is she."

"Really? The Union lets women into the service?" He glanced at her, taking in her bare legs. "I bet you're a cook or somethin', huh?"

Vivien stared at him and balled up her fists. "That's pretty sexist of you."

It took all of Sam's willpower to not slap the guy himself. "Okay, you just sit there for a second." He took Vivien gently by the arm and retreated to a corner to talk.

"What's going on, Sam? Did we really travel through time?"

He gave her a disgusted look. "No, he's just playing his part."

"What do you mean?"

"I've heard how these guys work. You know, the Civil War re-enactors. When they're in uniform, they're on. They're completely wrapped up in that era, and they have to act like they don't know anything about the 21st century."

"Really? That's...weird."

"Yeah, well, to each his own, I guess. Whatever, the point is we aren't going to get anything useful out of him, except maybe a way to a road. Maybe there's a town nearby. There's gotta be something. They don't do a re-creation out in the middle of the woods without an audience."

Vivien looked at Jedediah Cox. "Very weird. He even has a 19th century sounding name."

"Might be a character he plays." Sam shrugged.

"So I guess I should just forgive him for the crass remarks, huh?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Better off just trying to get over it, because we may need him to help us out of here, if he's useful."

"And now that I have my clothes, maybe I should change into some pants. I don't like how he was staring at my legs."

They were fortunate that the cabin had a small bathroom. There was no running water, but at least it was a place where Vivien could change. She soon emerged wearing jeans and a t-shirt emblazoned with a small logo of the carrier on which she was once stationed.

She addressed Sam, who paced around the room, thinking. "Has he said anything?"

Jedediah answered for him. "No, ma'am. Just tryin' to dry off."

"Well, I can tell you right now it'll take forever if you keep that tunic on. Why don't you remove it, hang it up over the mantel, and let it dry by itself?"

He glanced at Sam for approval. "Yeah, go ahead."

Jedediah got up, took off the heavy wool coat and did as Vivien instructed. Then he crossed his arms over his damp shirt and sat down again, staring into the fire. She threw a few more logs on it and let it blaze up.

"If we stay here any longer, we're gonna have to get some wood," Sam said. "Has he got a hatchet?"

"In my kit." He shivered. "You know, you can talk to me. I may look stupid, but I ain't."

The corner of Sam's mouth tipped up in a smile. "Sorry, kid." Sam grabbed another chair, turned it around, and sat on it so his arms rested on the back. He wouldn't admit it to Vivien, but the head injury was starting to dull his edge. "So, you wanna tell us why you're out here alone in a Civil War uniform?"

"I'm kinda new at this. I mean, I always went to the skirmishes with my brother, but now I'm part of the regiment. I was with a platoon, and we were patrolling for Union soldiers, and I got lost."

"You're lost." Sam rolled his eyes and glanced at Vivien. "So much for hoping he could help us get out of here." He turned back to Jedediah. "Jed...you mind if I call you Jed?"

"Not at all, sir. Except I don't know your name. Either of your names."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Sam Axe, and this is Vivien Chase."

A slight spark of recognition lit up his eyes, but for only a second. Sam saw it but kept his poker face. He knows her books. So we're definitely not in the 19th century! That's a relief!

"It's a pleasure, Miss Vivien," Jedediah said with a syrupy southern accent. Sam expected him to get out of his chair and kiss Miss Vivien on the hand and bow or something, but he stayed where he was and glanced at Sam warily. Sam knew Jedediah was too unsure about the guy with the Beretta to do something so foolish.

"Okay then, now that we got that out of the way...where's the nearest town?"

"I think it's about five miles north of here. But you've got to take this path that runs along the cabin. It hits the road up about a mile or so."

"You sure about this?"

"Well, as sure as I can be, considering I'm lost." He smiled. "Tell you the truth, the only way I know about is because that's the way I took getting here."

Sam shook his head and ran a hand over his face, holding back his frustration. He really didn't want to be here any longer than was necessary. He should be in Washington helping his friends. Instead, he was wasting his time with a country hick running around the woods with a peashooter pretending to be in a horrific war. Why anyone would want to relive it was beyond him.

Vivien came forward with the map from the desk. She stretched it out and showed it to Jedediah. "Jed, can you show us on this map where we need to go?"

"May I, Miss Vivien?" He reached out to take it from her. "Thank you, ma'am." By the light of the fire he studied it, hemmed and hawed a little, and finally answered her. "Yes, ma'am. You're right here, at this station. The county road runs along here." He traced it with his finger. "This trail will lead you right to it, and after that, you go north a few miles and you'll run into Prescott. It's a little itty bitty town, but the folks are friendly. If you ain't Yankees, that is."

"I'm more of a Tigers fan myself," Sam said with serious expression.

Vivien laughed. "Sam!"

Jedediah looked up at her, his eyes questioning. "It was a joke, Jed." She sighed and took the map, and returned it to the desk. She peered out the window, but it was difficult to see anything with the rain rolling down the panes. "It's really coming down out there. Sam, why hasn't anyone come looking for the aircraft? Will they wait until the weather clears up?"

"Maybe, but my guess is they just don't know where we are. If the transponder was destroyed in the crash, they'll have no idea where to begin, except where the last radar signature showed us. But if they lost radar and we went down farther away from where they got the last signal, they'll never find us." He noted Jedediah listened to his words and stayed in character the entire time, looking astounded at their conversation. "We just have to hope that the county road will lead us to that town and a cell tower. Then we can call for help."

Vivien sighed heavily and stared out the window. "It's times like this I wish I had a sat phone."

"Yeah, no kidding. Except I go through phones like they're candy, so I don't think I'd want to pay to replace one of those every time I lose it."

She looked at him, skeptical. "You lose your phone? A nice responsible guy like you?"

"Well, it's not through carelessness. Sometimes they get traced, or confiscated, or...anyway, the point is, I go through a lot of burn phones."

"Ah." She smiled. "It sounds like you lead a very interesting life, Sam."

"If I told you, Viv, you'd never believe it. But then again, you might. You're a writer with an imagination." He smiled back at her.

"So, what about me? What are you two going to do with me?"

Sam shrugged. "If you're not hiding anything, when this storm stops you're going to lead us to this town, and from there...whatever you do is up to you."

"Sure, I can do that. But like I said, the folks in that town don't like Northerners."

He smirked. "Hey, I live in Miami. Any farther south and I'd be in Key West."

"I'm from Michigan. Sorry."

"Well, you still sound like a Yankee, mister. Could be trouble."

"Let us worry about that. You just get us there."