Read Souls Aflame Online

Authors: Patricia Hagan

Souls Aflame (61 page)

She reached the end of the hall, her back to the window. She fought to slide it open, knowing she would leap out, not caring that death awaited her. The grave would be a sweet release from the torment bearing down upon her.

“You’re mine now,” he chuckled. “I’ll have you over and over and over. When Myles returns, I’ll be waiting to kill him. No one will ever know or care, because I’m going to take you away to a secret place I’ve found. Then I will have my fill of you, and when I’m done, I will take great pleasure in disfiguring that beautiful face of yours so you will never again beguile any man.”

With an anguished scream, Julie tugged at the window once more. In desperation, she was about to smash the glass with her bare hands. But he was upon her, dragging her away, throwing her to the floor.

“I’ve lived for this moment,” he panted, ripping at her clothes, slapping her hands away as she tried to fight him. “I want you naked. I want to touch you all over. And you’re going to touch me. You’re going to do anything I tell you to do, because the day you displease me is the day I start cutting your face. Now spread your thighs to me and thrust those luscious breasts forward so my lips can drink their fill. Then I will empty myself into you till you scream for mercy…”

She lashed out hysterically, striking him on the side of his face. Enraged, he struck back with his fist. The blow was hard, stunning. She felt herself slipping away, powerless and helpless beneath him.

Quickly he ripped her dress away. His hands seemed to consume her body, probing, pinching, squeezing, and all the while he was screaming how she was his, how he had waited, and now she would pay for all she had done to him.

She felt the sharp stab as he entered her roughly. Again and again he plunged into her, making her bare buttocks grind against the floor. Bruised and battered, she could do nothing but lie there as he ravished her mercilessly.

When at last he was finished, the pain consumed her, and she drifted away. “I’m not through with you!” he screamed at her from the other side of that black void. “Do you hear me? Do what I taught you to do so well. Make me ready again. You’re going to wish you’d never been born…”

When she did not move, he grabbed her shoulders and began jerking her up and down, her head hitting the floor repeatedly. There was nothing left but emptiness, and she gave thanks that at last her prayer was answered, for she was truly dying.

But her prayer was not heard. Death did not take her away. Her eyes opened to the pale, faint twinges of dawn filtering through the dirty window. Beside her Virgil lay naked, sleeping, his arm across her possessively.

It all came flooding back, and she moved, trying to scramble to her feet and escape, but he was awake instantly, rolling over to pin her beneath him, laughing down at her in lascivious triumph. “Yes, it’s real, my pretty,” he taunted. “You and me, together, for as long as you please me and obey me. Now isn’t this a lovely way to start a new day?”

His hand darted between her legs, and she could not help gagging. The movement startled him momentarily, just long enough for her to react and bring her knee crashing up quickly into his groin. With a scream of agony, he clutched himself and rolled sideways, and she struggled to her feet and started running down the hall.

Cursing, he began to make his way behind her. “If you don’t stop, I’ll make you suffer the agonies of the damned!” he shouted. “I’m warning you, Julie—”

She reached the top step and started down, but in her haste she tripped and tumbled head over heels, finally lying helplessly at the bottom, her body aching painfully as Virgil descended behind her.

Jerking her to her feet, he slapped her once…twice…three times…until her ears were ringing wildly. “Now on your knees, wench!” he commanded. “I’m going to take you like the bitch you are, and when I’m done, I’m going to tie you up and gag you so I won’t have to worry about your sounding an alarm when Myles gets here. I’ll take care of him quickly enough.”

He threw her to her knees as she shrieked angrily, “Myles will kill you for this, you bastard! I wish I’d killed you myself—”

He beat at her backside, yelling for her to be still or he would only hurt her more.

“What in hell…”

Rainbow lights of hope flashed before Julie’s eyes as she looked up to see Myles standing in the doorway. His arms were loaded with packages which went flying in all directions as he sprang forward, eyes blood-red with fury. The snarl of an attacking, crazed beast came from his curled lips.

Virgil was caught off guard, helpless as Myles fell on top of him. Julie rolled to one side, terror wrapping itself about her as she watched her brother’s fingers close around Virgil’s throat, choking the life from the man who had caused her so much anguish and indignity.

It was over. Myles towered over him, his breath coming in painful, rasping wheezes. He stared down, flexing his fingers together as he cried: “I killed a man with my bare hands, but God forgive me, I’d do it again!”

Julie crawled toward him and wrapped her arms about his knees. He lifted her up and held her tightly against him. “It’s going to be all right,” he said, trying to soothe her. “I ran into an old friend in a waterfront bar, someone I could trust. He told me he’d seen Virgil, that he was still about. I got worried he might show up here, so I came back. And thank God I did.”

He kept talking, sensing that his voice was her only link for the moment with reality, for the look of stark terror in her eyes was frightening. He lifted her in his arms and carried her upstairs, found the shreds of her dress, and told her how they would buy her more clothes in town.

Slowly she came out of her stupor. “What…what do we do with his body?” she asked, a wave of nausea passing over her.

“We’ll bury him in the woods. No one will know or care. I doubt he’ll even be missed. Do you feel like helping me? Two of us can get it done quicker, and we can be on our way.”

She didn’t feel like helping, but knew time was important. Myles gave her some of the corn dodgers he’d brought, and she gulped them down quickly. Then together they went into the woods and Myles dug a grave with the pitchfork.

“It isn’t deep, but it will do,” he said finally. “No one will be coming here except Yankees, anyway.”

Returning to the house, the two struggled with Virgil’s body. Myles fastened his hands under his arms, while Julie lifted his feet. They carried him out to the grave and dumped him into it unceremoniously.

“How I wish we had done that long ago,” Myles said when the last clod of dirt was packed down. “We would all have been spared so much misery. Now the worms can have him.” He took her hand to lead her away, and she did not look back.

 

 

They had no problem locating the spot where the wagon train was forming when they reached Brunswick. The town was teeming with people almost hysterical in their frenzy to escape the advancing Yankees. And it did not matter to anyone that their coastal town was well to the south of Sherman’s eventual target of Savannah. They knew only that they’d had enough of war, the suffering and anguish. There was one common bond among all: head west, escape, make a new life.

In Brunswick, one day blended into the next, and Julie complained to Myles that she wanted to be on her way.

“We’re waiting for other families to arrive,” he explained. “We’ve a long way to go, and there is safety in numbers. When the time is right, we’ll leave. Just don’t you fret.”

Don’t fret,
she reflected caustically. How could she just blot everything out of her mind? She still thought of Derek—for instance, when she stared at the smoldering black-red embers of a campfire, so like his eyes when he was angry. And then the fire’s glow changed to deep warmth, the way he gazed at her with hunger and desire.

She could not escape him in her dreams, when his face would appear to haunt her, the harshly handsome lines that could soften her to fresh-churned butter when he smiled.

What was he doing now? she wondered. Did he ever think about her, dream of what might have been?

If only there had been time to explain, perhaps he would have understood. But he had been too angry, and it was over, forever.

She wondered, too, what would have happened had she accepted his offer so long ago to become his mistress. Perhaps in time he would have found he did love her. But that was foolish. Derek loved no woman.

She tried to busy herself around the camp, which was growing, with more people arriving each day. It amused her when young Teresa Davis began to flirt with Myles. Then she realized he was flirting back, and appeared to be quite taken with the lovely, fair-haired girl.

“I think romance might blossom on our trip west,” she teased him one night when he said he was taking Teresa for a walk. “Who knows? By the time we reach our destination, I may have a sister-in-law.”

“And I’ll probably have a brother-in-law,” he bantered right back. “I’ve seen the way all the eligible men look at you. If you’d warm to them, you’d have them swarming after you.”

A cold wave swept over her instantly, and her reply was sharper than she intended. “I don’t want them swarming. I don’t want any man around me…ever again.”

“Now you’re being silly,” he admonished her. “You’re still hurt and angry by all that’s happened, but you’ve got to make yourself forget, Julie, like I’m doing. Think about tomorrow and stop brooding about yesterday. Sometimes I think you’re only feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Sorry for myself?”
she sputtered. “Myles, how can you say such a thing…” and her voice trailed off. She was ashamed as she saw the amused twinkle in his eyes. He was right. She
was
shrouding herself in self-pity, and it was wrong to do so. She had to open her heart, her eyes, to the new life, the new world.

“Just give me time, Myles,” she murmured. “I need time.”

He hugged her. “You’ll have lots of that. It’s a long journey ahead. All we’re waiting for now is for our wagon master to arrive, and then we’ll be heading out. And none too soon. We just heard that Sherman is on the move again, heading straight for Savannah and leaving a trail of destruction behind him.”

It was but a few days later that Myles excitedly announced, “We’re leaving at dawn. We’ve been told to get the wagons lined up and be ready to move out first thing in the morning. We’re leaving tomorrow, Julie! We’re going to our new home!”

There was much jubilation in the camp that night. The men played their fiddles and banjos and guitars. The women sang, and a few danced. The children played and screamed with delight, and everyone was overcome with the happy knowledge that for them, the war was truly over.

Julie looked about at the men. Some were amputees. There were others without eyes, or with part of their faces gone. She stared at the hollow-eyed women who tried to look happy over the new life they had been promised, their now-fatherless children gathered around them. These were the wives whose husbands would not be coming home, for they were buried in some far-off cemetery or left to rot on a distant battlefield.

They were not running from the war, Julie realized. Not any of them. They only thought they could leave it behind. It would be with each of them forever, a part of their lives they could never deny. And it would be handed down to their children, and their children’s children, and on through the generations and for years and years to come. That was the way it should be, she surmised. No one should ever forget the tragedy of the bloody, cruel war between the states.

They were up before dawn, the skies still blue-black as people began moving about, hitching horses to their wagons, brewing one last pot of coffee, eating one last bowl of gruel before starting the journey. The air was alive with the same thunder-charged emotion of a lightning-streaked rainstorm. Only there was no rain, just smiling faces and shining eyes.
 

Next the sky turned a pale pink, then a soft rose, and when the first golden sparkle of the sun touched the horizon, people screamed with jubilation. A new day. A new life. They would soon be on their way.

“He’s here!” someone cried. “The wagon master! He’s telling everyone to get ready to move out.”

“Julie, can you believe it?” Myles yelled happily as he leaped up to the wood-plank seat beside her, taking the horses’ reins in his gloved hands. “It’s really happening! We’re on our way!”

She felt happy for him, for everyone else, but could not help wondering if for her, the future would bring any joy.

Then came the sound of thundering hoofbeats, drowning out all other sounds. Someone shouted: “It’s him…the wagon master…he’s coming this way…we’ll be leaving soon…”

Julie folded her hands in her lap and stared down, wishing she could share the happiness that seemed to be igniting all about her. She hoped she would not dim the pleasure for Myles. Bless him, he had suffered terribly also, but he did seem to be coming out of it all, much better than she. But then, he had Teresa, and it was obvious romance was blossoming for them. And she was thankful, for both of them.

Beside her Myles sucked in his breath, gasping, but she was too absorbed in her own reverie of the moment to take notice…till she heard him gasp: “My God! I can’t believe it!”

Only then did she lift her eyes. Then she was gripping the edge of the plank seat, squeezing it and pressing down, as though to do so was to hold on tightly to her sanity.

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