Richard and I nodded in unison. No one in our group moved to stop Morgan .
Morgan frowned and was red faced as he turned and walked to where a rope secured the prisoner to a small tree. Everett's hands were tied behind him and he was still almost naked. He received a harsh kick in the ribs as Morgan un-sheathed his knife. He reached down to grasp the rope tied to Everett's neck and then cut it loose from the tree.
"You murdered my family and good friends, you worthless piece of shit." With nary another word, he pulled Everett along behind him and disappeared deeper into the woods. The prisoner limped as he begged and stumbled along. He knew what was coming to him and stammered pleas to live. Wildlife noises quieted as Everett begged for his life and then screamed until it was cut short in mid-breath.
We all suspected what Morgan had in store for Everett and accepted it. The Law of Retaliation we'd adopted demanded an eye for an eye, and a life for a life. We didn't need fancy lawyers to confuse the issue and tell us right from wrong and inject a ton of maybes and what ifs. No one spoke until Morgan returned to our clearing. When he sat, we resumed the conversations his actions interrupted.
Richard and I slept most of the day amid the subdued noises made by fifteen other people, dogs and horses. After dark, we again rode toward the enemy camp. Our whole entourage followed behind. Everything we'd brought was tied down as tight as practical to prevent banging and clanging that might alert an enemy member who couldn't sleep and had moved outdoors. We turned off the main road onto the third lane with the intent of establishing our base in the clearing around the burned house. The horses were muzzled, and the dogs were on the wagons on short leashes. The dogs were used to running free and didn't like being tied down, but each was assigned a handler to keep them quiet.
Everyone understood there would be no cooking fires built until our mission was achieved. The sight or smell of smoke close-by would alert our enemies of our presence. As I prepared to leave, I told the group, "We're going to reconnoiter, but if you hear gunshots, come running. We'll have been seen, and we'll be outnumbered."
Two sentries were scheduled on two-hour shifts throughout the remaining hours of darkness. The rest of our people were snuggled in for the night when Richard and I again set off. The time was three-o-three a.m.
We reached the edge of the enemy camp at three-forty. The previous morning's routine was repeated as the captured women were rousted early to cook breakfast. Later, the bell rang to announce food was ready.
At eight, children played in the clearing. The kidnapped children from our dead friends’ camp held back in a separate, close group and appeared numb and dejected by what was happening around them. Once again only two men were seen. After breakfast, the captive women came and went, always under the scrutiny of their armed captors.
A short, fat woman hit Merriam across the buttocks with a stout stick and yelled, "Get your worthless ass over to the woods and haul kindling to start a fire, lots of it. And if you try to run off again, Charlie and Norell will beat you and screw you till you can't walk; it'll be even worse than the last time. Now get, you lazy heifer." She swung the stick again, but Merriam evaded the blow and scurried across the open ground toward us.
Two captives carried water in plastic buckets from a well to a smoke-blackened pot. A large rank of split firewood stood a short distance away.
As the sun climbed furtively over the tree tops, several other young, captive women were directed to the iron kettle twenty feet from the nearest building. Each carried an armful of clothing and bedding.
Merriam entered the woods twenty feet to the right of where Richard and I lay. Cautiously we inched across the ground toward her. She heard or saw us and flinched noticeably; I whispered, "Merriam, it's Tom Jacobs. Keep working and don't stop to look at me." She was startled and stared at me. Then she saw Richard and lunged toward us.
"Stop!" I put both palms up and whispered loudly, "We're here to get all of you, but not right now. How many men and women are there?" She stopped five feet from us.
Her grin of jubilation faded when I said not right now. "There's two men and five women and two female teenagers here plus eight of their children."
"How many are gone."
She thought for a few seconds. "Nine men, two women and two male teenagers."
"Don't stop working, keep gathering sticks. How long have they been gone?"
A voice yelled from the clearing. "Where the hell's that kindling? Hurry up, Bitch or you'll get another ass whipping."
Merriam grabbed more sticks as she spoke, "Three days, they're expected back soon, tonight or tomorrow I hear. One man left by himself and hasn't returned, but they don't seem too worried because he's done that before."
"How many prisoners are there?"
"Us and two other women. The men force us to have sex with them every night. Please, get us out of here. The women are as brutal as the men, and those damn teenagers are the worst. One of them is queer."
Shouting erupted behind Merriam. Two of the guard women pushed and kicked Molly and another young woman, then laughed and congratulated each other for the harsh treatment.
I said, "We'll come for you after the others return. Don't warn the others now, but you'll all have to escape to the far
