Prelude to a Massacre

While she waits for the lieutenant to return, Ehawee checks to see how many bullets she has for her gun. Not that she wants to have to use it, since the noise would wake the camp, but if something does go wrong.... Fortunately, both the gun and the tabs on the belt are full. Satisfied that she's as prepared as she can be for what lies ahead, she settles down and waits, alternating between psyching herself up to kill all the whites, and praying to the spirits for strength so that she doesn't make a mistake and get everyone killed. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, she hears the lieutenant's voice again.

"Ssst. Kitten?" he calls lightly from outside. "Let's go."

Ehawee takes one final look at the body, kicking it for good measure, and then creeps out of the cabin to join the lieutenant. He is crouching in the shadows next to the steps and motions for her to join him and do the same.

"All right, they've got sentries posted at the four corners of the camp, east, west, north and south," he says, pointing out the directions to her. "I'll take west and north, you take east and south. When you've killed your second, wait there and I'll come and fetch you. Understood?"

She looks where he indicates and then nods, her eyes wide. The lieutenant heads off, melting quickly into the darkness and leaving Ehawee standing alone. The full moon is only four days away, so there is enough light to navigate by, and there is cover, consisting mostly of army tents, between her and her targets. She begins moving towards the closest one, calling upon every trick she ever learned in hunting to move silently, thinking of the sentry as prey she is stalking.

When she gets close enough to observe the sentry properly, she pauses for a moment to study the situation, concerned that he may be carrying something that could make noise when she kills him. He has his rifle in his hands, but that looks to be the only thing she has to worry about...although it does have a bayonet that she'll have to keep an eye on. She watches the man long enough to determine the timing of his patrol, and waits until he's just past her place of concealment. Then she takes a deep breath, focuses on her target, and moves.

Adrenaline gives her speed as she moves quietly up behind the man, grabs his head, and twists it around as hard and fast as she can. The young man tenses when she grabs him, but doesn't have time to cry out before she snaps his neck. So great is the force of her attack, that she feels the neck bones completely separate. Fortunately, she has already caught the rifle before she processes that she nearly tore the man's head from his shoulders. Then it's all she can do for a few moments not to be sick again.

Once she has recovered, she crouches in the darkness, rifle in hand. There are tears starting to trickle down her face once more, but again she's only vaguely aware of them. She looks around quickly for something to prop the dead sentry up against, in case anyone notices him missing, but finds nothing. She'll have to kill the other sentry quickly, and trust that the lieutenant can do the same with his before they notice anything is amiss.

There are 50 yards to cover to the next sentry. She closes on him as quickly and silently as she can, keeping to cover and shadows much like she did the first time. As before, she stops a short distance away to check out the situation, which appears no different from the last. The sentry seems unaware of her presence, and is lighting himself a cigarette. She puts down the rifle and moves in, figuring that while he's focusing on lighting the cigarette, he'll be the most distracted. Steeling herself for the sickening feel of his neck bones breaking, she grabs his head and twists it hard and fast, although not quite as hard as the last time. She hears the neck crack and the man goes limp. She catches the rifle but the wind carries the match out of her reach. The ground is damp, however, and she is able to snuff it before it catches the dried winter grasses alight. She makes sure the cigarette doesn't pose a danger either, then breathes a shaky sigh of relief, thankful that this first part is over.

Ehawee retrieves the first rifle and begins looking watchfully for the lieutenant, trying not to dwell too much on what she's done. She considers standing in the sentry's position, thinking that maybe the light is dim enough to fool anyone giving the spot a casual glance, but decides that there isn't much point. There will be three other posts unmanned to anyone who looks, after all. Besides, their silhouette is too different. This last thought gives her an idea, though. She takes another look at the dead soldier to see if he's wearing anything that might serve to disguise her, at least for a crucial second or two, and finds that he has both an army cap and a wool coat that should serve her purpose. She removes both items as quietly as possible, finding it hard to touch the man at first, although it's not nearly as disturbing as almost tearing the head off the first sentry. Looking the items over, she finds that they're pretty clean by her standards. They'll be a bit big, but they'll hide her gender much better than her buckskin dress alone. She puts them on, tucking her braids up under the cap, and continues to look for the lieutenant.

Ehawee attempts to make out the other sentry points from where she is, trying to see if the two the lieutenant was targeting are still standing. She can see the two distant lanterns, like the ones next to her sentries, but that's about all. As she watches, she is sure she sees both of the lanterns moving, as if the men were still walking their patrols.... She frowns. Surely the lieutenant must have killed at least one of them by now? She's tempted to go and take care of them herself, but tells herself that she should stay put, for now. Those were the lieutenant's orders, and if he'd been caught there would have been more of a commotion, so she has to assume that the plan remains the same. Still, she decides to pick up the lantern and try to imitate the soldier's patrol, so at least there will only be one suspicious spot...and it won't be by her.

As she walks the slain man's path, Ehawee notices that the third lantern, the lantern of her first victim, is now swaying to and fro as if being carried as well.... This realization makes the hair stand up on the back of her neck. She grips the rifle tightly and glances uneasily in the direction of the man she most recently killed, half-expecting to see him getting up again. As she peers into the darkness, and her eyes slowly adjust to the lack of light, she can see that the lantern of her first victim is swinging back and forth in mid-air...there is nothing holding it. Just as she realizes this, she hears, "Are you set?" softly behind her.

She inhales sharply, jumps and spins around, barely managing to stop herself from screaming. "As much as I can be," she finally responds, after her heart gets out of her throat. She holds the lantern out to the lieutenant. "Do you need this?"

"No. Just leave it here." The lieutenant turns his attention to the tents arrayed before them. "There should be two men per tent. You'll have to kill them both quickly and silently. There's the midline there. You take the ones to the left, I'll take the ones to the right. Ready?"

She looks over the tents, counting how many there are. "Should I leave the rifles here?"

"I would," he answers.

She puts down the rifle she was holding, along with the lantern, and takes another long look at the tents. There are fifty of them on her side, she realizes. For this to work, she'll have to kill 100 men....

"Deadwood"
Ehawee's Page | Ehawee's Story

All text on this page is © 2001 by Kris Fazzari.

Last modified on June 13, 2001 by Kris Fazzari.