Soul Seekers (9 page)

23

Cas hit the ground with a wet thump and a splash. The smell of animals, straw and what might just have been manure wafted into his nose.

He blinked as screams of panic soared around him along with fierce flames that rippled the air with heat, the houses and streets of Boston Common shimmering before him.

‘Cas’, move, now!’

Cas focused on his surroundings and realised that he was sitting in a puddle of dirty water in the cattle pen that was blazing fiercely, surrounded by mud churned by countless hooves. Jude grabbed his collar and yanked him to his feet and they ran side by side as people dashed around trying to fill buckets with water to throw on the burning fences.

‘We’re back on the common!’ Jude yelled. ‘Right on time!’

Cas saw the crowds around the gallows scattering as the cattle stampeded away from the flames across the common. He saw his father standing on the gallows and alongside them old Kip.

‘We need to cut them down!’ Cas shouted as they ran, remembering what happened last time they were here. He turned toward the gallows and ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

In an instant Cas saw his father lock his gaze onto him and his eyes fly wide with surprise.

‘Cas?!’

‘Dad!’

Cas saw the British officer on horseback turned his mount toward him and charge. Then the stampede caused it to rear up and collapse onto its side, hurling its rider to the ground and sending his sabre spinning through the air.

‘Dad!’ Cas yelled again as he ran.

Cas reached the platform and hauled himself up as the hangman turned to confront him. Joshua kicked out with one leg, his boot thumping into the back of the hangman’s legs and sending him sprawling to the ground.

Cas dashed toward his father, reaching out for the bonds tying his wrists together.

One hand touched the coarse, dry rope.

‘Stop right there or I’ll shoot!’

Cas whirled to see Lieutenant Silas Du Pont standing below the gallows with a pistol pointed at Cas. The lieutenant sneered up at him in malicious delight.

‘You’re going to be next on the noose, boy!’ the lieutenant shouted.

Cas was about to respond when thundering hooves caused them both to whirl.

The giant stallion was back on its feet and galloping toward them, the rider once again swinging a cavalry sword that flashed in the morning sunlight. Lieutenant Du Pont shrieked in panic as the huge horse bore down on him and he hurled himself aside as it charged past.

The cavalry sword flashed high above Cas’s head and sliced through the noose around his father’s neck, the rope falling uselessly as the blade severed one noose after another. Cas saw the prisoners leap from the gallows in delight as the horse turned again and its rider flashed a smile at Cas.

‘Siren,’ he uttered in amazement.

Siren wheeled the horse around and charged back down the line of the gallows, swinging the cavalry sword at anybody who came too close.

Joshua grabbed Cas by his shoulders and knelt down before him. ‘Son, what are you doing here?’

‘It’s a long story dad,’ he replied. ‘We’ve got to move, right now.’

Together they jumped down off the gallows as Lieutenant Du Pont staggered to his feet, covered in mud as he raised his pistol again. His podgy face collapsed in panic as Joshua strode a pace forward and batted the pistol aside with one hand before punching the officer straight on the nose.

Du Pont squealed like a pig as he tumbled onto his backside on the mud.

‘You and mom have a lot in common,’ Cas said.

Joshua twisted the heavy musket from the lieutenant’s grasp and turned to follow Cas and Siren’s stallion.

The cattle pen was burning fiercely now and sending columns of smoke spiralling up into the morning sky as they ran past. Siren galloped by, swinging the cavalry sword as the crowd frantically parted before the huge horse to let it through.

A pair of soldiers ran out from the crowd and raised big, heavy long-barrelled muskets at them. Siren lashed out with a boot and kicked the muskets aside in time for Joshua to plough into them. The soldiers tumbled to the ground as Joshua staggered past and kept running.

Within moments they had dashed out of sight of the common, the horse’s hooves clattering down the cobbles of a narrow street that led them north into the city.

‘We need to get out of sight!’ Joshua shouted.

Siren led them past the powder house and into a warren of streets and alleys, dismounting and sending the horse on its way with a slap on its hind. Within a few minutes they found a wooden door set into an archway at the back of a tavern and crashed through it using their combined weight. Cas pushed the doors closed behind them as Siren grabbed a hefty timber brace from where it leaned against the wall and dropped it in behind clasps set into the wooden door frame.

A set of stone steps illuminated by a series of flickering lanterns dropped away before them. They hurried down the steps into a damp smelling cellar filled with discarded barrels and coils of rope.

Cas’s chest heaved as he fought for his breath and slumped against a wall. Emily and Jude were both leaning against the opposite wall as Cas looked at Joshua. He got a grin and a wink in return.

‘Mighty fine timing,’ Joshua said between breaths.

Cas nodded. ‘Mom says hi.’

Joshua reached out and pulled Cas into a tight hug. Cas heard his father’s voice, his tones tight with emotion. ‘What are you doing here boy?’

Cas looked up at his father. ‘It was an accident,’ he said. ‘We didn’t mean for this to happen.’

‘I know,’ Joshua replied. ‘Nobody did. There was an experiment running and we couldn’t control it. I just didn’t expect to see you and your friends turn up the way you did.’

From across the cellar, Jude’s voice whispered.

‘Yeah, that’ll be Cas’s fault.’

Cas saw Siren standing silently in the cellar watching them. He turned toward her. ‘What made your father change his mind?’

Siren shrugged. ‘I convinced him. Gets me out of school for a day, right?’

‘I owe you one.’

‘You’re damned right you do,’ Siren replied. ‘How about getting us out of here and back to Lincoln for a start?’

Joshua looked down at them. ‘What’s going on? How did you get here?’

Cas explained quickly how they had convinced General Winchester and Doctor Harrison to support them, and how they knew everything about the experiments.

‘How did your mother convince the general to help us?’ Joshua asked when he had finished.

‘She threw him over her shoulder and told him she doesn’t take orders,’ Jude said from one side. ‘A real diplomat, that one.’

Joshua raised an eyebrow and then looked at Cas. ‘You’re using the headsets,’ he guessed.

‘But we don’t have much time,’ Cas said. ‘About twenty-four hours to get us back to the same spot where the facility is now, but we arrived here on a hill just outside where the base is.’

‘There’s a low hill to the south-west of Hanscomb, off Virginia Road,’ Joshua said. ‘The hangar where the facility was built is right alongside it. It’s where I got caught.’

‘Us too,’ Emily said. ‘The British soldiers found us.’

‘The British are our friends though, aren’t they?’ Jude asked.

‘In the present, yes,’ Joshua said. ‘But in 1776 they were our masters, whom we chose to try to overthrow. That was why the Revolutionary War started - it was the birth of our country and it started near here in Boston.’

‘The Battles of Concord and Lexington,’ Siren said. ‘My father studied them at college. The siege of Boston followed. George Washington himself commanded the militia that drove the British out of Boston.’

Cas got the picture.

‘So the British are retreating toward Boston right now or are all here already.’

‘Correct,’ Siren confirmed. ‘Which means that between us and where we need to be are several thousand British troops and the Hessians, who are the real enemy here.’

Cas nodded as he realised what they faced.

‘And every single one of them is looking for us.’

* * *

24

British Army Camp,

Boston Common

Lieutenant Silas Du Pont stood to attention in silence, his flabby chin held high and his beady eyes focused upon the opposite side of the large canvass tent as he tried not to listen to the voice roaring in his ears.

‘Are you a total, complete and utter buffoon man?!’ his commanding officer bellowed.

Brigadier Charles Stanton stood behind his desk and trembled with fury. He pointed one long, shiny black horse whip at Du Pont as he spoke.

‘I’d have you in irons were it not for your commission from the Queen. The only reason you wear our Colours at all is because your benefactors paid for them. You’re no more a soldier than I’m a court jester. You’re a mercenary.’

Du Pont risked speaking.

‘It is not the first time prisoners have escaped from a wagon, sir.’

Stanton smiled a tight, angry smile. ‘No, lieutenant, but it’s the first time that four children have outwitted a Hessian in the service of the British and facilitated the escape of four convicts from the gallows while right under your damned nose!’

Du Pont remained silent. Behind him, the open side of the tent faced out across the common, where the gallows and the smouldering cattle pen dominated the scene. The fire started by the fleeing children had threatened to spread to neighbouring buildings via sparks in the billowing clouds of smoke that had spiralled up into the cold morning sky. Only the damp and mildew from the previous night, still soaking the timbers and roofs, had prevented a catastrophe.

Stanton seemed to calm himself by force of will. He put the cane down and strode out from behind his desk, which was strewn with maps of the surrounding hills. Enemy positions were marked in red where they were advancing from the west.

‘Do you have any idea, lieutenant, of what is at stake here?’

‘You are in danger of losing the city,’ Du Pont replied without interest.

‘Imbecile!’ Stanton snapped. ‘We are in danger of losing the country! The militia are gaining strength and momentum in their push toward Boston. Their general, a man named Washington, is spearheading their advance and looks set to become their leader. If we cannot secure the city of Boston we will be over run and hounded out of this country.’ Stanton peered close into Du Pont’s eyes. ‘I will be forced to explain my actions to Parliament while you will no doubt return to your country, your pockets lined with the spoils of war.’

Du Pont kept his head held high. ‘Perish the thought, sir.’

‘Perish indeed,’ Stanton growled. ‘Who were the prisoners that escaped?’

‘Spies, sir,’ Du Pont spat in disgust. ‘We caught them watching our caravan out near the Concord turnpike.’

‘And the children?’

‘Spies also.’

Stanton shook his head. ‘Why do you suppose lieutenant, that four small children were spying on our army when the militia has not just ample soldiers and scouts but also a vast network of informers both here in Boston and out in the countryside?’

Du Pont shrugged. ‘I don’t suppose anything, sir, I merely sought to protect the army.’

‘From small children,’ Stanton murmured. ‘I have heard it said, lieutenant, that quite often your Hessian mercenaries arrest people and then sell them to press-gangs who force them to serve aboard merchant and naval vessels sailing out of Boston harbour.’

‘Unsubstantiated lies spread by other officers,’ Du Pont insisted. ‘I would never bring such shame upon my regiment’s colours!’

‘
Your
regiment?’ Stanton uttered.

‘The Lieberegiment,’ Du Pont coughed.

Brigadier Stanton paced up and down as he spoke, his brow creased with worry.

‘We’re on the verge of a catastrophic defeat. Our forces are retreating back here toward the city with the insurgency gathering pace behind them. Without naval support, if the city comes under siege we eventually shall have no option but to abandon it. We need some kind of inside knowledge of our enemy, but the native citizens here are all wrapped up in their dreams of an independent nation. There’s little reason to expect any of them to side with us.’

Lieutenant Du Pont took a chance.

‘In my experience, sir, money is usually a sufficient temptation to make a turncoat of anybody.’

‘Indeed,’ Stanton peered at the lieutenant, ‘somehow it doesn’t surprise me that you have such an instinct. Sadly, however, we have little money in the commissariat for such bribes.’

Lieutenant Du Pont thought for a moment. ‘Perhaps, sir, money is not the currency we need.’

‘What do you mean?’

A plan began to form in Du Pont’s mind and he grinned. ‘There is one thing that is better than cash, sir, and that’s emotional leverage. Let me scour the city for our escaped prisoners. I know for a fact that two of them are father and son, and they went to great lengths to protect each other. I need only recapture one of them in order to ensure compliance from the other.’

Brigadier Stanton thought for a few moments before replying.

‘You weren’t able to contain them before, lieutenant. What makes you think that you’ll be able to prevent them from making a fool of you again?’

‘This time,’ Du Pont replied, ‘I’ll be ready for them.’

‘Good,’ Stanton said, ‘because if you fail I’ll have you stripped of your command and returned from whence you came!’

Lieutenant Du Pont’s mouth gaped open in horror. ‘Sir, surely you cannot intend to lay the blame for this situation squarely upon my shoulders alone?’

Stanton paced toward him. ‘And where else, lieutenant, do you think that blame should be more fairly laid?’

‘It was the British guards who let the children escape from the prison wagon in the first place!’ Du Pont wailed. ‘I’m just here trying to clear up their mess.’

‘Strange, lieutenant, that just moments ago you referred to the Lieberegiment as your own but now everything that happened is the fault of my British soldiers,’ Stanton observed. ‘I understand that your inheritance from your very wealthy family is dependent on your good service to my Queen and to your own country?’

Du Pont levelled the Brigadier with a serious gaze.

‘I have to serve five years as a commissioned officer, sir,’ he croaked.

‘And that commission was not earned,’ Stanton replied, ‘it was bought. Your soldiers are undisciplined mercenaries because they are led poorly, by you. If you fail to resolve this situation before sunrise tomorrow I shall therefore nullify your commission on the grounds of incompetence! Should that happen, lieutenant, I wonder just how much of your family inheritance you will be eligible for?’

Lieutenant Du Pont’s pallid features flushed bright red with fury, but he snapped one hand up in a smart salute.

‘Yes sir.’

Brigadier Stanton waved him away with one hand. ‘Dismissed. And don’t come back here without those prisoners!’

* * *