Chapter 9
Captain Howards got his men into position, a storekeeper across from
the
consumption asylum's main entrance let one of his men stay in his
upstairs storeroom so this entrance was covered. There was a
vacant house by the rear entrance that gave them an excellent
observation post. The only spot they had a hard time covering was
the walk around the back of the building. It had several
exits. It was hard to position a man where he had a good view and
wouldn't be easily noticed. But they finally got a good
position. Every two hours the Captain checked his men. For
the first day there was nothing, then on the second one of his men
remarked "I'm quite certain, sir, I'm being watched. You know
that feeling you get that something very unpleasant is creeping up the
back of your neck?"
"Yes," the Captain agreed. "I know that feeling. I'll look
around."
He did so, the first couple of times finding nothing, and then spotting
something in the shadows, sure enough, watching the store window!
He crept closer. His adversary obviously had no inkling he was
there. There was a beeping sound. The man looked around,
took out his watch, and spoke into it.
"Corporal Bell, keep alert!" a voice came out of the watch.
"The officer leading the rebs is wanderin' around. I don't know
if
he's just checking his troops, or might be on to us."
"I'll be careful!" the man answered into his watch.
"Haven't seen anybody around here. It's gettin' damned cold here,
sir! My heater doesn't seem to be working. Any chance my
relief can get here a little early?"
"Everybody's equipment is fouling up!" the voice from the watch
remarked. "We were told there was a possibility our modern stuff
wouldn't work here. It seems to work but not very well."
"Don't let this guy get out of here without our knowledge! We
have to get those plans!"
"I know!" the man answered into his watch.
Captain Howards backed off. "What in the hell," he muttered to
himself. Very carefully he searched around and found that each of
his men had a shadow. "Not good!" he muttered, "Not good at
all!"
He got back to where the rest of his men were quartered, and reported
what he'd found.
"Well, what do you reckon we should do, sir? " the experienced
lieutenant asked.
"I think," Howards answered, "nothing at the moment.
He was about to say more when a messenger came in. "Sir!" he
managed after catching his breath, "he's here! I just saw him at
the hotel. He took a room. I'm SURE it's him! The
picture you showed us, sir, couldn't be anybody else. Real odd
looking man. He said he was here visiting a relative at the
consumption asylum and asked for directions."
Howards smiled. He knew watching the hotel was a good idea, and
it had paid off. But now dare he act without dealing with his
other problem first? Finally he decided.
"We got Yankee agents watching us," he told his men. I think we'd
better deal with them before we go after their friend. Let's find
out how many of them there are, and where they're hidin', then we'll go
after their associate."
"Yes sir!" one of his men answered. "I like nothin' better than
taking out Yankee trash!"
The Captain deployed his men and they carefully watched those watching
them. When the watchers were relieved they followed them back to
an undertaking parlor.
"I know this man!" one of the privates commented. "Made it
known before the war he was against slavery, but supported the southern
cause."
"Apparently," the Captain muttered "not quite as much as he should
be! Let's take 'em!"
He and his men burst into the parlor through both doors. "Officers of
The Confederacy!" the Captain snapped, "You are our
prisoners! Surrender your arms!"
"What to hell?" the proprietor screamed. He reached under the counter
and brought up a strange looking device that suddenly began spraying
bullets all over the room! Two of the Captain's men were hit
immediately and went down, but the rest answered with a hail of fire
that took down the proprietor, his strange weapon fell silent, but
others replaced it. These men obviously intended to put up a
fight! One of them snatched up the proprietor's weapon and bolted
through an open door. "Dammit!" he heard somebody screaming, "Carter
didn't keep the rules! He brought a damned Thompson with
him! Open a gate! We've got to get to hell out of here!"
Strange light began to come from the other room. Howards
cautiously approached the door, but when he finally got to look inside
there was nobody there!
"Sir?" one of his men asked, "What in the hell just happened?
Where did them fellers go? There was no way out of there."
"I don't know," Howards answered, "I'm not sure I want to know.
But we're dealing with something unnatural here, something
unholy. I heard them Yankees often went in for ungodly ways,
witchcraft and such. It sure looks like these fellers have been
practicing the art! Probably sold their souls to get the power to
do THAT stuff!"
"Yankees will do anything!" one of the other men spat.
"They have no honor, or, no dignity! They'll do anything!"
"My God!" one of the other men gasped who had been peering around
the corner, "There's certainly somethin' goin' on around here!
Look at this! This man's only been dead a few minutes, but he's
already putrefied! The stench!"
The others came over and examined the body. Their companion was
not exaggerating. The body showed all signs of extensive decay.
"Oooohee!" one of the men cried, "Whatever he was drinkin' I don't want
any of it!"