Dr. Jacobson moved through the rows of patients. “There’s a man you might want to talk to. Come this way.”
Lilly followed Dr. Jacobson. He stopped next to one cot. An emaciated man of indeterminate age lay on his side, his legs and arms drawn up. His soldier’s uniform hung in taters, exposing his filthy skin.
Lilly recognized signs of scurvy in the sores along his skin. His mouth was partially open. Only a few blackened teeth remained attached to bloody gums. His eyelids blinked open, and he stared into space.
Tears filled her eyes. Though she’d seen death before, this was something different. Something caused by the deprivations of war…and outright cruelty. She drew in another breath, despite the fact the air was redolent with the most offensive reminders of end of life.
“Who is this man?” she asked the doctor.
“Corporal Shamus O’Leary. Of the 9th. Michigan Calvary.”
“Oh my,” she said softly. “My brother is in the 9th. Michigan Calvary. Elijah Billings.”
She noticed an object clutched in the dying man’s hand.
His gaze lifted to hers, even though it seemed an effort. “Billings?” Corporal Shamus asked, his voice barely a whisper. She heard the lilt of Ireland still in his voice. “You kin to Elijah Billings?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“Was one of his best friends ‘till we got captured and sent to Belle Island,” Corporal O’Leary said.
“Belle Island?” she asked.
“Another God forsaken prison. Almost died there.”
Compassion flooded her. “You will live, Corporal.”
“No. Time is up, ma’am. I know that.”
She knew it, too. The chances of a man coming back from this condition…not likely. Anything was possible but… “Benjamin MacKenzie. Do you know him, too?”
“Aye. Thick as a thief with your brother.” The corporal drew a ragged breath. “You a praying woman?”
His sudden question made her hesitate. She didn’t pray regularly, and it wasn’t something she admitted to anyone. “I attend an Episcopalian church.”
He lifted his right arm just slightly and pointed at his throat. “This…take this.” A chain dangled around his emaciated neck. A crucifix hung from the chain. “Wife gave it to me afore I left for the war. My wife…haven’t received a letter from her in ten months. Don’t know what that means. But I’d like her to have this. Please.”
Overwhelmed, Lilly allowed the tears to fall. “Of course.”
“I trusted your brother with my life on the battlefield, Miss Billings,” the corporal said. “I trust you with this now. Her name is Jane O’Leary. She lives in Ann Arbor.”
Dr. Jacobson leaned down and helped the soldier remove the chain from his neck. She held her hand out for the religious symbol and the Dr. gave it to her.
She placed the religious symbol into the chatelaine at her waist. “I will see she gets it.”
The dying man gave a barely perceptible nod. “I know you will, Miss Billings.”
She sensed the man would soon go to his maker, and new urgency rose inside her. The corporal heaved one last breath, his eyes closed, and she saw the life leave him. Tears trickled down her face, but she wiped them away. No time to show weakness.
The Dr. pulled a dirty blanket up from the foot of the cot and covered O’Leary.
“I want to see my brother and Benjamin,” she said.
Dr. Jacobson shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. “I cannot agree to that. You have no idea how dangerous it is in that prison. I don’t even like going in there, and yet I must do it tomorrow. Captain Wirtz asked us to check for the source of smallpox. It’s spreading rapidly.”
“But—” Lilly started.
Dr. Jacobson put up one hand. “No. And that’s final.”
Seeing she wouldn’t get anywhere right away, she switched tactics. “Wirtz? Isaac mentioned him.”
The doctor turned to her. “Henrich Hartman Wirtz. Responsible for what happens in this prison. Unfortunately.”
Chillingsworth snorted. “He’s the shit. And the rat that sits on it.”
Dr. Jacobson threw Chillingsworth a cool look. “He’s tried to improve things.”
Lilly felt new anger rising. “Clearly he hasn’t.”
Dr. Reynolds chuckled, and Lilly realized that he had remained so quiet she would completely forget his presence.
“What did you expect to see, ma’am?” Reynold’s asked. “A garden party? Flowers and fancy dresses and parasols?”
Infuriated by his patronizing statement, she steps forward. “I’m a nurse with extensive medical knowledge. What is happening to these men is inexcusable.”
Dr. Jacobson’s smile cut right through her like a cold knife. “Oh, it is, Miss Billings. But none of us can stop it.”
Dr. Reynold’s continued to glare at her. “The war is its own monster. It feeds upon itself. You shouldn’t go inside the prison, my dear. Or it might eat you.”
He smiled and left the tent.
She shivered, truly cold now.
Dr. Jacobson gestured toward the tent exist. “Come, Miss Billings. I'll show you where you'll sleep tonight.”
Lilly drew a blanket closer around her long night gown as she paced the crude wooden cabin, her thoughts spinning. Exhaustion threatened, but her mind wouldn’t let her sleep.
She took in her surroundings. The cabin was odd, attached to the outside wall of the first stockade and sparsely decorated with a bed, wash basin, an old desk and not much more. Spartan living, to be sure, and certainly less wealthy than what she could look forward to at home in Michigan. Yet she’d do anything to get to Elijah and Benjamin and bring them home safely, even if it meant living in dirt for an extended amount of time. She was well aware that her living conditions in this cabin had to be superior to what they suffered.
She hadn’t seen them for so long. She closed her eyes and remembered her tall, thin but robust lawyer brother with his sharp features and teasing smile. He resembled their mother far more than she did—she took after their father with her short nose and rounder face. He also inherited her mother’s dark, straight hair. She got her light blond, curly hair and blue eyes from her father.
Benjamin. Ah, dear Benjamin. A handsomer man she’d never seen. Tall, strong, with features both rugged and refined and a wicked sense of humor. A man of tremendous honor. Despite Benjamin’s honesty and strong work ethic as a reporter, her parents hadn’t approved of her love for him. Their lack of approval had proven the last straw and driven her even faster toward Georgia. She opened her eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks. She missed him fiercely.
A knock on the door made her jump. She quickly wiped away her tears and headed for the door.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“Dr. Jacobson with some food.”
Relieved, she opened the door.
Dr. Jacobson stood there with a covered tray. “Thought you might be hungry.”
She smiled as she took the tray and placed it on a nearby table. “Thank you so much. Would you like to come in?”
“No, Miss Billings. Wouldn't be appropriate. I trust you have what you need for the night? Can I get you anything else? I know it isn't the most comfortable of accommodations…”
“Oh, no, it's fine, thank you. And thank you for the food.”
A boom thundered across the sky, shaking the cabin walls. Moans and wails erupted from the prison.
“Oh, my heavens,” Lilly said, fear snaking across her body. “What was that? I heard the same sound when Isaac drove me in this morning.”
“Don't rightly know. We've been hearing them more and more. Seem to always come around the time of a good storm, though, so maybe thunder.”
Doubt made Lilly shake her head. “I’ve heard a lot of thunder in my lifetime. Nothing like that…”
He didn’t seem inclined to elaborate on the subject. “Well, you just holler if you need anything else. Rest up, and see you in the morning.”
He left. Lilly closed the door and took the cover off the food tray and revealed what looked like turkey or chicken with gravy and biscuits. The smell was appetizing enough and her stomach growled. She took the fork provided and tasted a little bite of the mystery meat. She grimaced and crinkled her nose. She’d never thought of herself as someone who expected the best cooking, especially not at a prison. But this…not even hunger would tempt her to this food right now. Her stomach growled, but she couldn’t force herself to eat.
Another boom rocked the area. A light appeared, deep in the woods, its source blocked by the thicket.
The light fluctuated. In the center of the clearing, a vortex spun, emitting white light and flashes of color like a sparkler. At the point where it touched the ground, dirt and rock flew upward and to the side. The top of the vortex rose higher into the sky past treetop level.
Electricity crackled. Lightning shot out horizontally from the vortex, which spun faster and faster. Hissing and humming sounds issued from the vortex and the ground shook.
From inside the vortex, shadows emerged.
Lilly stepped outside of the cabin with the blanket wrapped around her. She breathed in the night air, then recoiled at the stench wafting on the breeze from the prison. Moans issued from the prison, the men’s’ pain and suffering undeniable. Trying to think of a way to ignore the sounds, she turned her attention to the full moon above.
Crack! She flinched.
She headed toward the gate to exit the stockade. The guard at the gate stared at her, his gaze a full leer.
“Wouldn't do that if I were you, pretty little lady.” The guard’s voice was rough and taunting. “There’s no call for you to go outside.”
“I can take care of myself.”
The guard snorted loudly. “Sure you can, princess. Sure you can.”
Anger brewed within her until she trembled deep inside, wanting to lash out at his superior attitude. Yet she understood the guard wouldn’t allow her to leave. She turned her back and retreated into the cabin. She slammed the door and locked it.
Night enveloped the well-dressed older man as he guided his horse and buggy along a dirt road near the town of Andersonville near the tree line. He never suffered from fear of the night before, but this evening he couldn’t ignore apprehension. Moonlight made the way easier tonight, and for that he could be grateful. He took the horse over a rise in the road. The view opened to the massive stretch of land that encompassed Camp Sumter prison.
Andersonville Prison.
He hated that the town was tainted with that God-forsaken place. He swore he could smell the stench even from here.
His wife popped her head out of the window. “My heavens, that is awful. Is it the prison, dear?”
“Yes. Nothing to worry about. Try to rest. We have another hour before we get to Steven’s home.”
He was glad the road turned off just ahead so they wouldn’t go right passed the prison. The horse trotted along under ample light from the full moon.
Once over another ridge, the carriage moved closer to the woods. The horse stopped suddenly with a whiny.
“What the ever lovin’….” The man almost toppled off his perch. “Goodness gracious, what is the problem?”
He clicked the reins. The horse neighed, eyes wild.
Something crackled in the woods.
The horse bucked and stood on its rear legs, neighing loudly. The man-made soothing noises to the animal, struggling to control it.
“Darling what is it?” his wife asked. “What’s happening?”
“Whoa,” he said to the horse. “Get a hold on yourself. Calm down. Shhhh…”
The animal twisted and broke free of the straps, breaking into a run down the road. Stunned, the man stared after the fleeing horse. The man slid down from the carriage and rushed to check on the woman. Before he reached the door to the carriage, he looked over to the woods and reeled in horror. He backed away, trying to speak.
The man screamed.
LILLY
Startled out of a deep sleep, Lilly sat bolt upright. The night was cold, and she gathered wool blankets around her as she stared into the pitch-dark room. Puzzled and frightened, she searched the darkness.
A scream, far distant, echoed in the night. A woman’s blood-curdling cry cut short. Then silence.
Lilly listened. Outside the small cabin’s rustic confines she heard cries of distress from the prison mixed with crickets and other night creatures from the woods. Even, if she dared admit it to herself, the wicked laughter of the guards.
She cringed and burrowed under the covers. It took a while for sleep to find her again.
BENJAMIN
Sun had barely presented itself above the horizon when Elijah Billings and Benjamin Mackenzie dragged a cart piled with bodies out of the prison through the main gate. They struggled, straining against the weight.
Benjamin hated every minute of the soul-wrecking, back-breaking work. They’d been at it for an hour already, moving about the camp with the cart picking up bodies. Bodies lying in the pathways, stinking up lean-tos, men abandoned by their friends and fellow soldiers. Not that he could blame some for ignoring the death if it was possible. After all, death lived on their doorstep every morning. Every night.
Just be glad you’re alive. That Elijah is alive and kicking. This job, such as it was, assured them more rations. More clean water. More food. A chance at survival which on some days seemed increasingly unlikely. Sometimes the guilt hit him hard. So many others died each day because of starvation, lack of water, the elements, sickness. Yes, he’d lost weight, but his strength kept him going. No, it is more than that. It’s Lilly. Sweet Lilly. Just the memory of her cheerful smile, her intelligence and goodness toward others kept him moving. He would escape this God-forsaken place and make his way back to her.
Benjamin and Elijah pulled the cart to an offloading point near a hole. The pulled all the bodies, one by one, off the cart. Other men, some prisoners, threw the bodies into the ditch. Once the bodies were dumped, other men set them on fire. The smell of burning death made Benjamin gag, but he held back. Ash caught on the breeze and sailed upward, drifting toward the woods. Benjamin imagined it lodged in the treetops like freshly fallen snow. If he remembered nothing else about this unholy place, he would remember that.
“Best get this cart back,” Elijah said.
Benjamin nodded and they pulled it toward the gate into the first stockade.
Corporal Chillingsworth and Sergeant Bart Hanks stood post at the gate. Both glared at Elijah and Benjamin.
“What are you doing here without a guard?” Hanks asked.
“They got permission, remember? For taking out the dead. Not like they’re gonna run,” Chillingsworth said.
Benjamin exchanged a half-amused glance with Elijah.
Elijah leaned back against the cart. “Yeah. Because you’d shoot us down like dogs, right Sergeant Hanks?”
Hanks nodded, his eyes icy cold. “Like dogs.”
Hanks and Chillingsworth laughed but let the other men through the gate. Elijah and Benjamin found the medic tent nearby and entered.
The scene inside the tent was the usual chaos of injured and sick men. Many moaning in pain and misery, their deaths near at hand. Benjamin found he could ignore a lot of this after his experience every day inside the prison. Even the filth and sweat on him seemed normal by now. What he wouldn’t give for a nice, long soak in a hot bath. To plunge his head into water and clean his hair.
A voice hailed them and a man he recognized as Dr. Jacobson walked their way. “Gentlemen. Good to see you.”
Elijah smiled at the Union soldier, but Benjamin couldn’t seem to muster the enthusiasm. He liked the man, but he wasn’t in the mood to act like they weren’t in a precarious position every damn day. Jacobson brought with him an extra ration of food and water and handed it to Benjamin and Elijah.
“Thank you,” Elijah said, his voice sounding rusty and his hands shaking.
The doctor frowned at Elijah, knowing just as Benjamin did why Elijah was quaking.
Still, the doctor asked, “You all right, Elijah?”
Elijah’s smile faltered. “I’m fine, doctor.”
The doctor didn’t look so sure. “Maybe you should stay, and I’ll examine you.”
Elijah shook his head and backed away. “No. I’m right as rain. Will be even better when this war is over.”
The doctor sighed. “No arguing with that.”
“Thank you for the rations, doctor,” Benjamin said.
They left, and Benjamin dreaded going back inside the prison.
LILLY
Lilly approached the tent just as Dr. Jacobson exited it. She waved at him and he waved back.
Screams echoed from outside the stockade and Lilly jolted in surprise. The gate opened again and two guards ran in carrying a Union soldier prisoner. The man was wild-eyed and screaming incoherently. His right arm was missing.
“Oh, my God,” Lilly whispered. “What happened?”
The first guard said, “Don’t rightly know. Saw him lying at the edge of the woods.”
Dr. Jacobson gestured. “Bring him into the tent.”
The prison guards rushed the injured man into the tent with Lilly and the doctor on their heels. They found an empty cot and laid the man down.
“Looks like he's a prisoner, but who knows how he got out there in the woods without one of us shootin' him,” the second guard said.
Dr. Jacobson scowled as he worked swiftly with Lilly to save the man. “Right. He just got this way all by himself. He's missing an arm for God's sake!”
The second guard looked angry. “We ain’t to blame for that.”
Lilly didn’t care who could be blamed for the patient’s condition. At this critical moment, it didn’t matter. The man jolted and tried to sit up.
“It got me!” The wide-eyed man said. “It got me!”
Lilly and the doctor pushed the man down on the cot.
“Rest easy, soldier. We’ll take care of you,” Lilly said, keeping her voice quiet and soothing.
The man wouldn’t have it. “No! No! There's a monster out there! A monster!”
The first guard snorted. “If that ain't all-fired bull—”
“Be quiet,” the doctor hissed his condemnation.
The injured man's eyes went blank. Dr. Jacobson checked the man's pulse and a few moments later, he shook his head. Lilly knew the signs herself.
Dr. Jacobson sighed and moved back from the man. “Too late.”
Lilly wiped her bloodied hands on a towel. Tears threatened, but she held them back with everything she had. She knew if she showed an ounce of weakness that the men would use it against her.
The tent flap opened, and Dr. Reynolds entered. “What do we have here?”
Dr. Jacobson’s angry expression didn’t alter. “A dead man without an arm.”
Dr. Reynolds approached and stared down at the deceased. “Who did this?”
The first guard stood up straighter. “Nobody. We found him like this.”
Lilly’s mouth opened as she readied a blistering retort, but Reynold’s beat her to it.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Reynold’s said. “Of course, someone did it. Where did you find him?”
“By the road out there,” The second guard said.
“Was he a prisoner and he escaped?” Lilly asked.
Both guards kept their mouths shut. Maybe they felt guilty.
Dr. Reynolds placed his hands on his hips. “From the shape of his clothes and the edema and scurvy, most likely he's a prisoner. How on earth did he escape at all? He's in dire shape.”
Dr. Jacobson stabbed his index finger in the direction of the dead man. “Someone cut his arm off. Doesn’t that look like an amputation?” Jacobson looked closer. “My God. Look at this.” He plucked a large, long canine tooth from the man’s empty arm socket.
The first guard took a step back. “Goddamn!”
Lilly gasped. “What is that? A coyote or wolf?”
The second guard peered closer. “Ain’t no wolves around here much anymore.”
The first guard rubbed one hand over his chin. “Coyotes could do that if there were a pack of 'em. But it ain't too likely. Far as I'm concerned, justice is served. Somehow he escaped, and this is what happened.”
Lilly’s disgust refused to stay dormant. “Have you no sympathy or kindness in your soul, sir?”
The first guard grunted. “Can’t afford to in a place like this.”
Dr. Reynolds spoke up. “A feral dog attacked him, perhaps. Probably attracted by the smell of death...or impending death.”
Lilly couldn’t deny the possibility, but whatever the reason the poor man had been savaged, a deep fear built inside her.
Dr. Jacobson dropped the tooth next to the body. Everyone stayed silent as he pulled a sheet over the dead man.
Lilly couldn’t take her eyes off of the tooth. “It doesn't look like any dog's tooth I've ever seen.”
Dr. Reynolds said, “Men, take this poor man to the gravesite. Wait.”
The guards stopped.
“One of you needs to send word to Isaac that we need more medical supplies. We're getting dangerously low,” Dr. Reynolds said.
The first guard nodded. “After we get rid of this body, I'll go.”
After the guards left with the body and Dr. Reynolds, Dr. Jacobson turned to Lilly.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She examined the tooth closely. “What sort of dog could rip a man's arm off like that? Severely injure, yes. But tear the arm out of the joint?”
The doctor didn’t answer.