Point of No Return (31 page)

“You could always crawl in with Scout,” I suggested.

“The dog? Are you kidding? I thought he was going to take my leg off when I first got here.” Jack looked at the stupid grin on my face. “What? What's so funny?”

“You are,” I said. I'd never admit it out loud, but it was really good to see him.

“Matthew!” Jonah shouted from the back door. “Where are you, boy?”

I started grabbing up some logs. “I better get back inside. Stay dry.”

Jack nodded and retreated to wherever he had been hiding behind the shed.

Back in the kitchen, Jonah frowned at me. “What did you do, get lost?”

“No, sir.” I threw some of the logs into the stove and leaned over to Eveline and whispered: “Be ready to run.”

“What'd you say?” Jonah asked from the other side of the kitchen. “What's this whispering?”

“Nothing, sir,” I said. Suddenly I was worried that Jonah would figure out what was going on and try to stop us from escaping.

Colonel Ross walked in the kitchen and pointed a finger at Eveline. “You—I want you to go up and prepare my wife's bedroom for her arrival tonight. I want it clean as a whistle.”

“Yes, sir,” she said and curtsied.

He looked at me. “Boy, I want you to give my boots a good polish. They're in my wardrobe.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. My mind went wild with the problems the Colonel's work would cause. If Eveline was in one room and I was in another, how would we talk? If we were upstairs, would we hear the diversion—whatever it was—when it happened?

I was surprised when Jonah spoke up. “Colonel, it might be better to wait until we have dinner all fixed and ready.”

Colonel Ross looked at Jonah impatiently. “Are you telling me that you and Lizzie can't make dinner yourselves? You sure got the work done before we had this boy and girl. Are you getting lazy?”

“No, sir, Colonel,” Jonah said.

“Then I expect the work to be done,” the Colonel said, then turned on his heel and walked out.

Eveline and I looked worriedly at each other and slowly started to follow.

Just as we reached the door, Jonah put his hand on our shoulders and pulled us back. “Don't go,” he said.

I looked at him, confused.

He gave a signal to Lizzie. She nodded and picked up a large bucket of fat.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I…I don't understand,” I said.

“This is your way out,” Jonah answered. “You two grab your coats and get ready to run.”

“You mean,
you're
Reverend Andrew's friend?” I asked, shocked.

“
We
are,” Lizzie said.

“I reckon you could call us the departure depot for the Underground Railroad,” Jonah said. “Now get ready to run.”

We grabbed our coats and bundled up as fast as we could.

“Jonah!” the Colonel shouted from down the hall. He was coming our way.

“Hurry!” Jonah whispered.

Eveline and I were as ready as we were going to be.

Jonah waved at Lizzie. “Go on, woman—watch yourself.”

Lizzie tossed the fat on the fire. It spat, then roared at her in a burst of flame.

“Fire! Fire!” Jonah yelled as he pushed us out the back door. The rain was still falling. Scout leapt forward and ran at us until his rope yanked him back.

Jack rushed out from behind the shed. “Is that it?” he shouted.

“Let's go!” I yelled back. We ran straight for the field.

Kinsey rounded the corner of the house and ran right into us. “What's going on here?” he asked.

“There's a fire in the kitchen,” I told him.

Kinsey looked at the flames rising in the kitchen window, but suddenly looked at Jack, then me and Eveline. “What are you doing out here? Where do you think you're going?”

The three of us were speechless.

“You three get over there by the door. You're going to help fight this fire,” Kinsey said.

“Fight it yourself!” I said and threw myself into Kinsey to give him a push. He tumbled backward into a feeding trough that was filled with water. “Run!” I yelled.

We ran into the darkness of the field, our feet splashing through the puddles and mud.

I heard Kinsey shout and turned in time to see him scramble out of the trough. He grabbed Scout's collar and untied him. “Get 'em, Scout!”

Scout tore after us.

I shrieked, “Faster!” and we all picked up speed.

Just as we reached the edge of the woods, Scout caught up with us. I was sure he was going to dive at one of us, teeth first. But suddenly Eveline turned around and pointed a finger at him. “No, Scout! No!”

Scout stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her.

“Go home!” she said.

Scout looked like he couldn't make up his mind, barking and growling at us.

“Go home!” Eveline said more firmly.

Scout then turned and halfheartedly made his way back toward the house. I wanted to ask her how she made Scout obey like that. But there wasn't time.

“Come on,” Eveline said and we followed her into the woods.

The rain fell hard as we ran and ran until we couldn't run anymore.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Matt tells about crossing the river.

S
OMEHOW IN THE STORM
we found an old barn where we hid under a moldy pile of hay. The next morning we woke up huddled together, cold and hungry. The rain had stopped.

“We have to go,” Eveline said as she stood up.

As far as I could tell, the sun was just peeking over the horizon. Jack refused to budge.

I tried to stretch out my stiff arms and legs. They hurt.

Eveline stood in the middle of the barn with a stern expression on her face and firmness in her voice. “We have to go, y'hear?”

Somewhere in the silence of the morning, I heard dogs barking.

“Man, somebody owns a lot of dogs,” Jack grumbled and rolled over.

“Those aren't dogs. They're hounds,” Eveline said.

I sat up and looked at her to confirm what I thought she meant. “Hounds…that are hunting for us?”

She nodded.

“Jack!” I said and gave him a hard jab. “Those dogs want to have us for breakfast!”

Jack was on his feet before me and headed for the barn door. “We have to get out of here!”

“And go where?” I asked.

Jack jerked out a crudely drawn map from his pocket and pointed to it. “We've been following Griffith's Creek all the way up. We need to get across and find the hollow tree.”

“How many miles do you think we ran last night?” I asked.

Jack shrugged. “I'm no good at figuring that kind of thing. It felt like a hundred.”

“I reckon we ran about 10 miles,” Eveline said.

“Which means we have to run another 10,” Jack said wearily.

“We won't be running anywhere if we don't get out of here
now
,” Eveline said. “Those dogs are getting closer.”

She was right. I could hear them barking and yelping. We checked to make sure there wasn't anyone around the barn, then made a mad dash for Griffith's Creek.

Though the rain had stopped, Griffith's Creek was flooded. It poured over both banks in a torrent.

“What do we do now?” I asked as I tried to figure our chances of crossing over.

Jack, panicked, pulled out the map again, and looked for an alternate route.

“That won't help us,” Eveline said. “We have to follow it north and hope to the Lord that we'll find a place to cross over.”

Jack and I agreed with her and were just about to leave when a dog barked behind us. We nearly jumped out of our skins.

“Scout!” Eveline said.

I couldn't believe my own eyes. “Did he follow us?”

“Or maybe he's leading those hounds to us,” Eveline said. “That's what he's trained to do.”

Scout paced back and forth a few feet away from us.

“Go home, Scout!” Eveline shouted. He didn't obey her.

“Well?” Jack asked. “I'm all out of doggie biscuits.”

“Should we throw rocks at him?” I asked.

“No,” Eveline said. “It'll only make him mad—maybe attack us himself.”

“He likes you. He wouldn't attack…would he?” I wondered.

Eveline watched Scout, then reached out and took my hand. “Hold hands,” she ordered.

“What?”

“Hold hands real tight. We have to go into the creek,” she said.

Jack hesitated. “But we don't know how deep it is.”

“We can't stay here,” Eveline said impatiently. “If we go in the creek, if we can make it across, the dogs'll lose our scent. Maybe even Scout won't follow us. He's not crazy enough to get in this water.”

I protested, “If
he's
not that crazy, why should we be?”

“Because
he
won't get whipped and sold when they get him back to the plantation,” Eveline answered.

The three of us grabbed hands and slowly waded into the cold, rushing water of Griffith's Creek. Scout whined at us from the creek's edge but didn't follow. In fact, he did something I never expected: He lay down and put his head between his two front paws.

“What's he doing?” I asked Eveline.

She glanced back. “I don't know. Funny, but if he's the lead dog of the pack, he should've run back to help guide the rest of the hounds to us.”

The water was up to our waists, and we strained with all our might to hold on to each other. The current threatened to knock us over. One wrong step and I knew we'd be goners.

“This is no creek,” Jack said, “it's a
river
.”

The hounds were still in the distance, but getting closer all the time. Scout stayed where he was along the creek's edge. I didn't know much about dogs, but what he was doing didn't make any sense.

Suddenly Eveline let out a shriek. “It's the lead hound!” she cried.

I looked over my shoulder and saw a single mangy-looking dog follow our scent to the creek. He seemed excited by the scent. Oblivious to Scout who stayed put, the hound pranced back and forth, barking and howling. Even in that dim morning light, I saw his long, white teeth and the slobber that sprayed back and forth. I imagined a whole pack of them rushing into the water to make a meal out of us.

“What's that mean? There's only one,” Jack said.

“The rest'll be here soon,” Eveline said in a choked voice. “God have mercy!”

I didn't know which was worse, wading into that deep creek with the fear of falling and drowning, or facing the coming dogs.

It's hard to talk about what happened next because it was so horrible, but it saved our lives. Scout, who had been lying perfectly still, suddenly lunged out at the hound. I don't think it knew what hit him. In a flash, Scout had the hound's throat in his vice-like jaws. The hound yelped, but the sound was cut off instantly. It fought to get free, wrenching its head back and forth, but Scout wouldn't give up. Pretty soon the hound's struggle ended, and it went limp.

We stood mesmerized where we were in the water, too terrified to make a move. Scout shook the hound a couple of times and, sure that it was dead, dragged its carcass to the creek. The current caught the hound and sent it floating away downstream.

With tears streaming down her face, she cried out to Scout, “Thank you, Scout! Thank you! Oh, thank You, Lord.”

“What happened?” I mumbled.

“The rest of the pack'll be lost without their lead hound,” Eveline said. “Hurry! Move upstream!”

We got to shallower waters and waded against the current and away from Scout. He didn't follow but stood watching us.

“Come on, Scout!” Eveline called.

We joined in. He was our hero now. We didn't want to go on without him.

Scout just watched us for a moment, then suddenly turned and ran away into the woods. I wanted to believe that he was coming up with a scheme to lead the pack of hounds away from us. After what I had just seen, I could believe anything of that dog. The hounds' barking soon faded until we couldn't hear them anymore.

Staying in the creek, we waded about a quarter of a mile until we found a section with a fallen tree. It worked as a bridge for us to get across.

Safe and sound, Jack got a bright idea. “Let's try to knock the tree into the creek. Then it'll be even harder for anybody to follow us.”

“What about my daddy and Reverend Andrew?” Eveline asked.

In our rush, I think I had it in my mind that they were already up ahead of us, waiting at the hollow tree. It hadn't occurred to me that they might still be somewhere behind us—
if
they were even able to escape at all.

Eveline's sad expression made me and Jack feel awful. We had forgotten, but she hadn't.

“How will they get across?” she asked on the verge of crying.

“What if we're
already
across?” Clarence asked as he stepped out from behind a tree. He stretched out his arms toward his daughter.

“Daddy!” she shouted and ran into one of the best hugs I've ever seen in my life.

“Hello, my baby,” Clarence said.

“Well, boys? How did you do?” Reverend Andrew asked. He stepped out from behind another tree nearby. “I was getting worried about you.”

“Uncle Andrew,” Jack said, relieved to see him. “You were worried about
us
? Nothing to it. We were getting worried about
you
.”

“It was a piece of cake for us—once I gave that overseer a good knock on the head,” he replied.

“That makes two he's gotten in the last couple of days,” Clarence said with a laugh.

“Why didn't you tell us that Jonah was the friend you kept getting your information from?” Jack asked.

“Because I didn't dare risk that you could expose him. He and Lizzie are two of the most valuable assets we have in the Underground Railroad. They feed us helpful information constantly—and the Colonel would never guess it. You see, Jack, you never know when or where your friends will turn up.”