The White Fox Chronicles (3 page)

Silence.

Cody rolled into the shadows and stole back to his own barracks. Why hadn’t she answered?
Had they already beaten her so badly that she couldn’t speak, or killed her?

He sat for a few seconds under his own barracks, listening before he moved the plank and slithered inside. There was barely time to hop onto his bunk before the door opened.

A bedbug was waiting for him. It bit him on the neck. He wanted desperately to swat it but since he was supposed to be asleep he had no choice but to endure it and wait.

His eyes traveled to the floor. In the dim moonlight he could see that he had put the plank back crooked. If the guard saw it, he would be sent immediately to the severe-punishment cell.

Cody reached down with his left hand. The plank was too far away. The guard was halfway down the barracks, counting.

“Please, mister, I gotta go.”

Cody raised his head enough so that he could see who was talking. It was Tasha. She was standing on the end of her bed, sucking her thumb.

The guard pointed the glaring flashlight at
the little girl and shoved her. Tasha started wailing. Cody slid his foot out and adjusted the plank. Then he sat up. “Excuse me, Your Excellency, permission to speak.”

The frustrated guard nodded his head. “Speak.”

“The little girl just got here a couple of days ago and hasn’t learned the rules yet. She’s only five.”

The guard was torn. If he disobeyed the camp regulations, he could be shot. He stiffened. “Teach her immediately, White Fox, or she will be terminated and replaced.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.” Cody bowed to the guard and then looked at Tasha sternly. “Go to sleep right now. I’ll take care of everything. Just do what I say.”

Tasha, still upset, slid under her blanket and buried her head.

The guard quickly counted the rest of the prisoners and left. Cody slipped off his cot and took Tasha to the waste bucket. He tried to explain to the tired girl that something very bad would happen to her if she didn’t follow the rules.

He tucked her into bed for the second time. “Don’t worry, Tasha, everything will be all right.” To himself he muttered, “Because someday I’ll get out of here and bring the whole U.S. Army back.”

S
chool was held in one end of the laundry barracks. Classes weren’t like any Cody had ever attended before. There were no desks or chairs. The students had to stand and listen while the instructor delivered the same lectures over and over, and no one was allowed to ask questions. If anyone got out of line, the guard stationed in the room took a thin iron rod and smacked them soundly on the back of the legs.

Today the teacher was discussing the loathsome,
corrupt Americans and how they had lost their country because they were lazy and didn’t deserve to have it in the first place. None of this ever made much sense to Cody. But he stored it away in the back of his mind just in case the instructor called on him to spew it back to her.

A small redheaded boy reached down to scratch one of his many bug bites. The guard picked up the rod and the boy immediately straightened and gave the teacher his full attention.

When the two-hour indoctrination class was over, the students were dismissed to have their breakfast and go to their workstations. Cody drank his lukewarm porridge and walked across the compound to the vegetable garden.

He took the faded red rag out of his pocket, rolled it up, tied it around his forehead and picked up the hoe. His shoulders slumped. His brief plan to include the major was over. Maybe it was for the best. The tunnel was probably only big enough for the two of them anyway.

Giving Luther the job of dumping the waste buckets and digging the sewers was supposed to have been demoralizing, a way for the CCR to show him who was really in charge. But Luther saw it as an opportunity. Instead of digging straight down, occasionally he dug to the side closest to the fence. At the end of the day he put just enough sand back in the opening to fool the guards. They never wanted to go down into the sewer pit and look because of the smell.

Cody and Luther had made friends almost from the start. Luther was wise enough to see that Cody had some special talents that might come in handy, one of which was his ability to speak the Republic language. So he invited Cody to come with him.

Cody had already been working on a few schemes of his own. But Luther’s was by far the best. When he gave the signal, Cody was to drop everything and meet him at the sewer. The uniform under his cot was for Luther. Luther spoke just enough of the Republic language so that if they were stopped they could pretend that Luther was a CCR soldier who
had just captured the boy and was taking him to one of the camps.

Luther walked by the garden area carrying two of the buckets. He whispered, “I hear from the telegraph she’s in the medical ward.”

“The major?”

Luther gave a quick nod and moved on.

Cody hoed a little faster. The telegraph was a communications system the adult prisoners used between their barracks. It was hardly ever wrong. But this time it didn’t make sense. Why would the CCR torture her and then try to fix her up?

A large weed had sprouted in the cauliflower section. Cody chopped at it thoughtfully. When he delivered the prison laundry this afternoon, maybe he’d get the chance to find out.

T
he medical personnel weren’t like the rest of the CCR. Most of them had been drafted to meet the growing needs in the new country. They resented being stuck in a prison camp and it showed in their crisp businesslike manner.

Cody pushed a metal cart across the hospital floor. It was stacked high with clean sheets, hospital gowns and towels. He stopped in front of the linen closet. It was locked.
Everything was kept under lock due to the amount of “borrowing” that went on among the soldiers.

He could have opened the lock himself but it would have given him away, so he pretended to search for an orderly.

Leaving the cart, he walked boldly into the next room. It was a ward with a row of beds along each wall. Most of the beds were full. Dysentery and flu were the biggest problems in the camp right now.

A nurse near the end bed was taking a soldier’s temperature. “White Fox, you know you’re not allowed in here. What are you doing?”

Cody bowed and scratched the back of his neck, trying to look as innocent as possible. “I brought the laundry cart and need to get in the linen cabinet.”

“Go wait in the other room. I’ll send someone.” The nurse turned her back on him and attended to her patient.

Cody bowed again and deliberately went out the wrong door. He found himself in
another ward. This one had only a single patient, and a makeshift curtain had been drawn around the bed.

He edged closer to get a better look. The patient was moaning deliriously—in English.

Cody’s heart raced when he thought of what would happen if he was caught in this room. But he had to make sure. He pulled the curtain back.

The major had a bandage wrapped around her head and she was tossing and turning. The doctor had set her dangling arm in a cast. The other arm was solid purple with bruises.

“Major,” Cody whispered urgently. “I am an American. I want to help you. Can you hear me?”

The moaning continued but the tossing stopped. She turned her head and looked directly at him. She started blinking. It took him a few moments to realize she was trying to blink out words using Morse code.

“No give base location. Am acting crazy. Don’t know how much longer can fake …”

Cody leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Hang in there, Major. And stay ready for
anything. I’m gonna try and get you out. Can you walk?”

“Yes,”
she blinked. A feeble smile made its way to her cracked lips.
“Thank God, marines are here.”

W
hen it came he wasn’t expecting it. The adult telegraph passed him a strange message. A tall bald man with broken glasses was working the night shift peeling potatoes in the kitchen when Cody brought the colonel’s evening tray in.

The man was whistling a silly tune and every so often he put some words to it. “Dum de dum, is tomorrow only a day away, dee de dum.”

Cody almost dropped the tray. Was Luther
trying to tell him that after all these months the tunnel was finally ready?

He whirled around and raced out the kitchen door. If it was true, he had a busy night ahead of him. First on the list was to convince Luther that the major had to come with them.

The compound was quiet. It was almost time for bed check. He trotted up to the barracks door and pushed it open.

He stopped.

Something was wrong. The kids weren’t in their beds. They were lined up, standing at attention at the far end. Soldiers were turning over bunks and knocking them to the floor.

A large hand grabbed his collar and flung him into the room. He skidded across the floor and landed on his back, looking up at Sidoron himself.

The commander knelt down and pinched Cody’s jaws between his strong fingers. “So, you are loyal to the cause, eh, White Fox? You are one of us, right?” The man let go and slapped the boy on both cheeks. He stood and
walked to the corner where Cody slept. With a swift kick he knocked the cot over.

The wire clattered to the floor and the uniform came loose from one of its tacks. Sidoron bent down and picked up a long strand of the smooth wire. He folded it and smacked it in the palm of his hand. “What is the meaning of this? What do you plan to do with it?”

Cody swallowed. He stood and shakily bowed. “There is no meaning, Your Excellency. I just sort of … collect things. It’s an old American habit that’s been hard for me to break.”

“Liar.” The colonel struck him across the face with the wire. “You are planning to escape. Who is the dog helping you?”

“N-No one, Your Excellency.”

Sidoron used the wire on him again. “You will tell us. What is his name?”

Cody didn’t answer.

“Take him to the punishment cell. Tomorrow he will talk—or he will die.”

N
ights turned cold in the desert. Cody shivered in the bottom of the small square cell as he thought about this new turn of events. The future looked bleak. Tomorrow Sidoron would torture him until he told about Luther. If he didn’t tell, they would kill him. In fact, they would probably kill him even if he did tell. The CCR wouldn’t want him around as a reminder that their indoctrination program had been a failure.

He stood in one spot and rubbed his shoulders,
trying to generate a little warmth. Sitting down was out of the question because the floor of the punishment cell was covered with human waste from the countless other prisoners who had been there before him.

The difference between the others and Cody was that he could get out of the cell anytime he wanted. In their rush to confine him, the guards hadn’t bothered with a search, so he still had his homemade lockpicks.

But what if he did get out? Where would he go? They would find him anywhere he tried to hide inside the camp.

Using the tunnel wasn’t a possibility. He couldn’t ruin Luther’s chance for escape just because he had been the one unlucky enough to get caught.

Ideas swam around in his head for hours. But there seemed to be no solution. The sun was already rising and he could hear the familiar noises of the camp beginning another day.

Breakfast passed him by, and then lunch. His stomach was growling and he was actually
beginning to miss the watery, lukewarm porridge they served the prisoners between growing seasons.

By midafternoon the sun was beating down on him through the iron bars. He tied the rag around his head to keep the sweat from rolling into his eyes.

Finally they came for him.

The lock opened and the iron grate was pulled back. Cody squinted up at them. The two guards he’d shown the magic trick to the day before were standing above him. One of them reached down, grabbed Cody by the arm and dragged him out.

“Hey, guys, this is all a big mistake, I was only—”

A rifle butt smashed against the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. “The prisoner will not speak.”

Cody shook his head to clear his vision and managed to struggle to his knees before the second guard caught him in the ribs with the steel toe of his army boot.

Knowing that he shouldn’t just lie there and make himself an easy target for them, he
rolled and then jumped to his feet. Blood trickled down the side of his face and his ribs ached like fire but he did his best not to let the pain show.

The guards pushed him up the steps and inside the building. The interrogation room was at the end of the long hall. He’d never been inside before but he’d heard the screams of the prisoners who had.

Sidoron was waiting for him, seated behind a large wooden desk in the middle of the room. The guards shoved him forward to a small metal chair in front of the desk.

After standing all night and most of the day, he was glad to sit down. Sidoron lit up one of his cigars and walked around the desk. He carefully looked Cody up and down and then sat on the edge of the desk with his arms folded.

“You’ve been with us a long time, White Fox, eh?”

Cody nodded.

“During this time you have probably come to know a lot of the other prisoners. Corrupt
men who would use a bright boy like you to get what they wanted for themselves.”

Cody stared at the desktop while the commander continued. A long silver needle attached to a syringe caught his attention. He shifted his gaze and tried not to think about it.

“You’re young and don’t understand the mind-set of these types of people. They aren’t really your friends, you know. They’re only using you. If you were to turn them in, you would be perfectly justified. No one would hold it against you.”

Cody swallowed and bowed from the waist. “Your Excellency, you don’t understand. It was all a joke. I was going to return the uniform. And I was using the wire to make toys for the children in the barracks. What reason would I have to lie to you?”