Free A Deeper Sense of Loyalty by C. James Gilbert Page A

hollered, “Here!” And a club came down on Henry’s head, driving him to the ground. Virgil swung around and fired a shot into the darkness. Darnell, Tisha, and Emmy scampered back out of the light, James dashed across the clearing, drove his right shoulder into Virgil, and knocked him flat on his face. Quick as a cat, he gathered himself and found Virgil’s pistol, which had fallen from his grasp. Then he backed up a few steps and said, “On your feet, Virgil.”
    Cursing as he got up, Virgil faced James, pointed a finger and said, “You got the guts to use that thing, boy?” James cocked the hammer and replied, “One step will answer that question for you.”
    Virgil took the warning seriously and stood still. With the danger thwarted for the moment, Buck walked into the light and the others came back and stood behind James.
    â€œGood job, Buck,” James told him. “I’ll cover these fellas. Look them over and take every weapon you can find.” Buck did as he was told, finding a total of three pistols and two knives. Then James told Virgil to stir his partner and get him to his feet. It took a couple of minutes before Henry moaned and struggled to stand up. “Darnell,” said James. “There is some rope in the wagon under the seat. Get it.”
    Darnell was back in a hurry, and while James kept the revolver trained on the two ruffians, he instructed Darnell to tie Virgil’s right wrist to Henry’s left.
    â€œNow walk over to that tree,” he told them, motioning with his gun. “Face it on opposite sides and wrap your arms around it.” This done, James said, “Now tie their other wrists together, Darnell, and make sure you tie them tight.”
    By this time, the storm was going full force. The rain was falling heavily, dripping through the trees, soaking everything underneath. “We have to move,” James told the slaves. “Go out to the wagon and spread that piece of canvas over the supplies and get under it yourselves. I’ll be right there.” He took the reins of the villains’ horses and Virgil growled, “You gonna leave us here to starve?”
    â€œI’ll tie your horses to a tree out there where they can be seen from the road. I’m sure they’ll be spotted some time tomorrow and somebody will cut you lose.”
    â€œI guess you know ifn I ever see you again you’re as good as dead, you nigger lovin son of a bitch.”
    â€œI figured as much,” James replied. Then he took the lantern and left the two of them cursing in the dark.
    He tied the horses as promised; put on the rain slicker he’d purchased in town, then climbed into the wagon and started off. It was hard not to let Virgil’s threat bother him, but it was also a huge relief to have escaped. “This,” James told himself, “is what it will be like from now on.”
    Greenville was very quiet when they passed through. It was pitch dark and the rain had driven everyone inside. The piece of canvas covered the back of the wagon, concealing the slaves underneath. All was peaceful as he drove on through the night. He wondered if Virgil and Henry would make a point of trying to follow. But the rain would wash away James’s tracks almost as soon as they were made. If the two of them had no chance of trying to pick up their trail until the next day, James and his companions would already be many miles away.
    By eleven o’clock that night, they had left South Carolina behind and were rolling through Asheville, North Carolina. The rain had stopped and the sky overhead was clear. If they didn’t run into any trouble they could reach the eastern tip of Tennessee in a few hours more. From there they would travel along the foot of the Appalachian Mountains into western Virginia.
    They had covered nearly two hundred miles since leaving Turner’s farm, and James was pleased by their progress; but he