Bride of the Night (15 page)

Finn hesitated. “No, you won't be able to withstand it, sir, because you won't know when it's coming, and you may not know when it's here. It's like a disease, sir. One man gets it, and then others are inflicted. And it could happen within the walls of the fort without your ever realizing it's begun.”

“This is insanity!” Calloway said.

“I swear to you that it is not. Ask any man who was with us on our ill-fated voyage,” Tremblay said.

Calloway sat again, staring at them. “I admit to being stunned, gentlemen. What would you have me do? You caught a blockade runner—one who fired at you and sank a Union vessel! The captain of that runner must face trial—since he made war on us, he should be hanged!”

“No, sir. He should not,” Tremblay said stoutly. “When we were besieged, he fought with us. And he saved many of my men, no doubt.”

“And he is still
my
prisoner, under special authority of the Pinkerton Agency,” Finn said, staring at the captain.

Calloway tried to return the stare; he looked away.

“So, Agent Dunne, you still intend to take these prisoners to Washington. You believe one of them to be
your Gator? Perhaps we could solve your dilemma now with a hanging.”

“No. Captain, I'm not in the business of killing men. My goal is information, to lead me to those who aren't just at war, but those who believe that murder might well be a sanctioned part of war. That's not what the president wants. Lincoln is now planning for the day when we are one people again. When the North does win the war—which is inevitable—he wants to heal the land. The point of peace is that men will stop killing other men. I have to ferret out the truth regarding Gator. I don't believe that Richard Anderson is Gator, nor do I believe that the young woman, Tara Fox, is involved in any kind of espionage. I do believe that, perhaps, somewhere in their minds, they may have information that will help me to ferret out Gator. They may not even realize that they heard something somewhere, and it may come to them at some point.”

Calloway threw up his hands. “So, Tremblay, what do you say? What would you have me do now?”

“Give me another ship,” Tremblay told him.

“And warn the men. I need to speak with the civilian authorities on the island, as well—warn them about what may happen,” Finn said.

“Captain Calloway, my good man!” Tremblay said, indignant. “The mission could have been completed. We had an injured ship on hand, but—”

“There should be an inquiry into this!”
Calloway bellowed, looking from Finn to Tremblay.

Finn looked at Tremblay and they both shrugged. “Indeed, there should be an inquiry. Call the men in here, sir. Call every last man.”

Calloway stared at him. “You may be a Pinkerton, sir, and you may be chosen by the president himself, but you're talking like a madman. I will bring them all in!”

“Please do so,” Finn said.

“Gentlemen, if you will get out of my office?”

Finn and Tremblay looked at each other again, and exited as instructed. They walked out to the sally port and stood there waiting. A young officer passed them by, obviously headed off to summon the others who had been on the ship.

“No one believes,” Captain Tremblay said.

“Until they are faced with the truth. And, of course, survive it,” Finn said.

“And yet, you've known,” Tremblay said, watching him.

“I told you, there have been other outbreaks,” Finn said.

“But there's something special about you, Agent Dunne, isn't there? And something special about that young woman who saved my life, also.”

Finn shrugged, looking away. “We know what can happen, that's all. Tara heard the tales when she was young.”

He started; there was a hue and cry near them. He saw that someone had come across the walkway, and was seeking entry.

Walking to the gate, he saw a tall Indian man in a calico shirt and blue denim breeches talking to the guard.

He strained to hear what was being said.

“I have come for Tara Fox!” the large man said loudly. “You are holding a civilian, and you have no right to do so. I will take the girl home, and see that she is safe! And there is more, if you will be men and not military men, not Northern or Southern. There is a danger that awaits, and I can help prepare you for it!”

“Seminole Pete,” one of the men on guard murmured.

“Let him in! Let him see the commander!” another said. “It's Pete. He'll stand there until he's heard, and before you know it, we'll have a whole contingent of Key West citizens disrupting all in the barracks!”

The gears began to grind; the gate was opening.

Finn sensed someone behind him; it was Richard. He knew that before he turned around; he had become attuned to the man.

But Richard wasn't looking at him; he stared at the tall, stoic Indian who had come.

“Pete!” Richard cried, stepping forward to embrace the man.

“Richard.” Seminole Pete greeted him in return. “Tara—where is Tara? I heard that you two were here, confined, but I see you—”

“We are prisoners, Pete, but I was just summoned before the fort's commander to give credence to the story that we returned to tell. Tara is fine. And—”

Richard had seen Finn standing there, and was about to introduce Finn and Tremblay to Seminole Pete, Finn thought, but a young officer interrupted Richard. “Sir! I am to return you to your cell!”

Pete had a grip on Richard's arm, and was about to challenge the officers. Finn stepped in quickly. “There is no harm being done your friends, Pete.”

“This is Finn Dunne, Pete,” Richard said. “He will tell you what happened. You need to see the commander here when they bring you in. Let him know that the people must be warned, and that the fort shouldn't be alarmed if they arm themselves in their homes, that their target isn't the fort or the Union.”

Richard looked at Finn, and he knew he was being implored to see that no harm came to Seminole Pete.

“Pete, if you'll spend a few moments with Captain Tremblay and me while you wait?” Finn asked.

Pete nodded; his face gave away no emotion. His tall, stalwart body remained stiff. His posture was that of a ramrod.

Finn gave Pete a hasty summary of events, starting from the sea battle until their return to the fort. Pete listened; he winced when he heard that Richard's ship had exploded, and that the crew had gone down, and his jaw tightened when Finn described the attack on the island.

“You think it will come here?” Pete asked him. “I had only heard rumor this morning. People were talking about the return, and about an attack on the island that was not Seminole, not white. Not human.”

“We don't know,” Tremblay said. He sounded indignant as he added, “However, we returned here to bring warning of the menace, to tell people how the enemy must be killed to—to stay dead. And that fool does not want to listen to me.” He hesitated, looking at Pete. “You believe what we are saying?”

“My people have been aware forever that there are many enemies a man may find on earth—some are flesh and blood, some are in the mind and some are true monsters,” Pete said. “I believe your story. I will tell the commander that I have heard of such attacks before, and that he must listen or he will have the people on the island in revolt. And that if the disease becomes an epidemic, no fortress walls can protect him.”

Charles Lafferty exited the commander's office, and came toward them. “He's asked to see the Seminole.” He nodded toward Pete. “We've all told him what happened. He seems to think that we're victims of some form of malady—a hallucinogen in the island's fruit!”

“Agent Dunne, don't you have the authority to demand that he pay heed?” Captain Tremblay asked.

“I am not military, Captain,” Finn said. “He has no power over me, and I can demand my prisoners, but I can't command the man to believe what he won't.”

“I will speak,” Pete said. He lowered his head to them, and then turned and headed for the commander's office. He stood well above most men, and his long, straight black hair only amplified his height and his size.

“Pray God, he can make Calloway have some sense!” Tremblay said.

The tension in the little group waiting seemed to grow. It was hard to imagine, of course, that the fort could be taken by any small group of men—or even monsters. The thick walls rose for three stories. It was cut off from the mainland, save for the walkway. The fort was exceptionally advantageous, surrounded by water on three sides, and its strength had been fortified by the building of the east and west martello towers on the mainland. The fort was well supplied with cannons; the Rodman and Columbiad cannons had a range of three miles.

Seminole Pete was in with Captain Calloway for what seemed like a long time.

And then the two men emerged.

“Agent Dunne, I will summon all I can to the inner grounds so you may give them a presentation on what to watch for and how to combat this enemy—should it arrive among us. We will be prepared. It's better to prepare for the preposterous, as I have been led to believe, than fall prey to it. Tremblay, if you will summon your seamen, sir, I will see to those on duty here at the fort!”

It seemed odd, standing beneath the bright Florida sun on a day when the winter's chill seemed to break, when it was almost hot standing beneath the brilliant blue sky, trying to explain what might occur, what men should watch out for—and how they must be on guard for danger from outside the fort—and from within. He
was sure that most of the men watched him with the same disbelief as Captain Calloway had done, but others listened to him with grave attention.

Hopefully, in the end, enough listened. They might not believe, but if enough listened, they might have a fighting chance.

When the men were dismissed, Captain Tremblay came to him. “So, sir, I have been given leave to take another ship. Do we stay, and hope to help if action occurs? Or do we set sail as quickly as possible? Apparently, though Calloway longed to dismiss our tale, his orders regarding you were stanch—you were to have all assistance, a decree that apparently came to him straight from the secretary of war, Mr. Stanton.”

Finn smiled. Thank God that Stanton, among others, believed heartily in the manifold dangers to the president.

“We'll bide two nights, and take our leave,” Finn told him. “I don't know whether the danger will come here—or if it will follow us. One way or the other, we will stay and watch tonight, and tomorrow night, and then we will once again sail northward.”

 

T
ARA KNEW THAT
R
ICHARD
was in a rough prison cell with other men who had been taken for various reasons. Some were blockade runners as well, and a few were dissidents from the island. A few were drunkards who liked to talk too freely, and torment the Union soldiers when they were on duty in the town.

Her own “prison” was not so rugged; she had been
locked in a room just steps up from the yard. She was kept above barracks due to the men of the fort, and she had heard their speculation and whispers the night before. Some of them longed to climb the steps, just to be near her. Some of them laughed crudely and spoke about being closer. For the most part, though, they were young men far from home, and longing just for gentle companionship.

She had been offered no hardship; indeed, she'd been brought a real bath, with hot water. The young aide who had been in charge of her incarceration had been pleased to tell her that they managed to make the “facilities” work with the outgoing tide. She had a comfortable bed, and pillows, and her bag had been searched but then brought to her. There were a few books on a dressing table, and she was supplied generously with fresh water and plenty to eat.

But it was frightening to be kept away from the others. Try as she might, she heard nothing but what the men said in the chambers below her, and they usually spoke as boys. She couldn't hear anything regarding Richard, nor her own status.

Finally, she heard a commotion when the men hurried out to the yard, and she could hear Finn's voice, though she couldn't follow all his words. When he finished speaking, the sun began to set, and she found herself waiting, and then pacing, and then again trying to listen to the men beneath her as they spoke in their quarters.

Some laughed.

Monsters, indeed!

Well, bring them on.

Others seemed to be urging at least some caution regarding the threat.

An officer entered to quiet the men, and call some of them to the walls for guard duty; soon after, it seemed that the rest below her fell silent, either keeping their thoughts to themselves, or weary from the day's work.

At length, she heard the chain rattle outside her room. She walked quickly toward the door, and then hesitated, something inside her warning her to take care.

As the door opened, she saw it was only one of the enlisted men, standing there with a food tray. “Evening, miss,” he said. But he looked over his shoulder, as if afraid.

Instinctively, Tara drew him into the room and thrust him behind her. The panic that touched his face made her bring a finger to her lips, shushing him.

She waited, and thought that she had been wrong, that she had misread the soldier's expression.

And then another man stepped into the doorway.

The stranger was in uniform. Union naval uniform. But there was something about him that wasn't quite right. It was the way he moved, perhaps, or the strange angle of his head.

She had never seen him before.

Another moment revealed a still-healing scar on his throat. At one time this man had been dead.

She had no weapons; there was nothing to grab.

But the man didn't expect trouble. She didn't know him, and he didn't know
her.

“Ah, lassie, it's time for you to come out now. The commander has asked to see you, yes, that he has! Come to me, girl. I won't be hurting you!” He started to laugh, and she saw the saliva glistening on his teeth, which were becoming fangs.