CHAPTER FIVE
The cabin was warm, and over the pungent odor of wood smoke, Mason could smell stew and his mouth watered. Gone were the thoughts of a quiet bus ride home to Pittsburgh and listening to Jay-Z on his headphones. His duffel bag and headphones were two hundred some years in the future and never to be used again. Stratton jostled past and hunched over his rucksack in a corner of the Danielses’ pantry. There wouldn’t be enough room for them all to sleep in the room, Mason knew. They’d spread into the kitchen and dining area with the central fireplace keeping them all warm through the night. His first thought was to separate them, leave the upperclassmen the kitchen area. They needed time to think and plan. If there really wasn’t a way home . . .
The possibility stopped him for a second. Seeing Murphy and Martinez helping themselves to steaming bowls of the Danielses’ food triggered something else. “Hey! We’ve got our rations, man. Don’t eat their food!”
Martinez looked at him and shrugged. “Emily invited us, Mason.”
Murphy smiled. “Venison stew, bro. It’s amazing.”
“I’m not your fucking bro,” Mason said. “These people need their food to survive the winter. A bunch more mouths to feed is going to hurt their stock.”
Emily turned a head over her shoulder. “It’s fine. We have plenty.”
Mason watched the cadets spreading out their sleeping bags and realized that there was nothing he could do. One of his instructors at Fort Knox, a crusty old drill sergeant named Perez, had compared soldiers to horses heading home to the barn. He’d been right, of course. With a warm roof over the heads, they’d shut off any measure of security in their quest for comfort.
Mason shook his head. “Booker. Koch. Pick a window and keep watch. We’ll spell you for food.”
Booker bristled. “There ain’t nothing out there, man.”
“We’re in hostile territory, Booker. Behind enemy lines. You get it?” Mason pointed out the door. “We don’t know what’s out there. Until we do, we keep watch. They killed Porter and Kennedy and they’ll kill us if they find us. Set perimeter security. We’ll put a schedule together.”
“You’re overreacting—”
“Hey!” Higgs snapped. “Mason is the squad leader. Get your asses to the windows.”
“But—”
Higgs stood up from the table and stepped toward Booker with her finger raised. “Security, Booker.”
Booker grabbed a loaded musket and slapped it into his left hand. “C’mon, Koch. Get your ass on a window.”
Koch put down his bowl of stew without a word and moved through the kitchen toward the pantry. Mason noticed him look back into the kitchen as he did, but the big kid did what he was told without a complaint. Security set, Mason made sure that Higgs and Stratton ate first before grabbing a bowl. Midway through his dinner, Higgs sent Murphy and Dunaway to replace Booker and Koch on security. They’d have to keep it up all night, Mason realized. He didn’t know if he could sleep at all given their situation and the guilt bearing down on his shoulders.
Higgs moved her bowl next to him and sat down. Stratton sat across from them. For a long moment, no one said anything. Mason realized there wasn’t a better time.
“We need to set security all night. Higgs, make up a schedule for it. We can’t do range fans or dead space—” Mason shoveled a final bite of stew into his mouth. The venison was tough and the stew was bland. “Stratton? You start with priorities of work. Inventory all of our gear. Figure out what we have with us.”
Higgs lowered her voice. “What about going home?”
Mason shrugged. “I’m not sure we can.”
Stratton nodded. “We can get to Washington’s army in a day or so. All we have to do is cross the—”
“No. Not yet.” Mason said. “Mister Daniels said there were a lot of things we don’t know. We need to figure it out and—”
“Hell, Mason!” Stratton whispered and hit him on the shoulder. “We know what happens on Christmas Day. We can be there!”
“Shut up.” Mason pointed at Stratton, who flinched backward. “The less we tell people, the less we affect history. We need to disappear. Fast.”
“Where do you think we can go?” Stratton asked. “We’re already behind British lines, Mason. It’s not like we can waltz out of New Jersey. If you want to run west, then we have to cross the Delaware. That means we should try to join Washington’s army. It’s the simplest solution.”
Higgs shook her head. “The simplest thing to do is recreate what happened today. We have to try to go home again. Same time tomorrow, same place. Maybe it will work.”
Mason shrugged and no one said anything for a moment. He hadn’t considered the same-time aspect. “It’s a good idea.”
“It’s not going to work,” Stratton said. “They’ve got one of our weapons, Mason. Every minute that they have it, provides an advantage.”
“They can’t make it work. It only has blanks in it.” Martinez shook his head. “But maybe we should try and get home.”
“They can take that weapon and reverse engineer it. A rifle like that moves weapons technology ahead a few hundred years in no time at all. If they do that, and we go home, what if everything is different? Go back into a world where the British won the war?” Stratton waved his hands by his head. “That’s a great idea! Let’s fuck up all of history by doing nothing. What a good idea. We have to get that rifle and—”
Booker burst through the door from the parlor area. Tears glistened in his eyes. “We gotta go home, Mason.”
There was a cell phone in the young man’s hand. “Put that thing away.”
“My mom . . . she texted while we were . . . ” Booker wiped at his face. “My brother got shot.”
Mason drew in a sharp breath. Booker’s family was in Chicago and for most of the year the big kid had been driving back and forth on weekends, ten hours each way, to help out. They were hopeful of moving out of the city around Christmas. The kid had been a train wreck from day one of the semester. “What did your mom say?”
“Come home. Wes was shot and is in the hospital.” Booker sniffed. “That’s all I got. We gotta go home, Mason.”
“We’re going to try.” Mason looked at Stratton’s scowling face as he spoke. “We have nothing to lose and one day isn’t going to start the Industrial Revolution.”
Stratton snorted. “We can try, but it’s not going to work. We’re stuck here.”
“Don’t say that, man,” Booker whined. “We gotta go home. We gotta go right now.”
Mason looked at Higgs and she took the hint. She stood and grabbed Booker’s arm. “We’re going to try, okay?”
“We can’t do anything tonight,” Stratton said.
“We got flashlights! We can—” Booker started. His tears flashed into anger. “What’s wrong with you? We have to go home! We have to go home!”
Mason stood up and closed the distance to Booker. His voice was a harsh whisper. “Knock it off, Booker. You want to get the whole goddamned British army here and let them kill us before we can try? Shut it down, okay? I said we’ll try to get home, but we can’t right now and you know that as well as I do.”
Booker took a breath and visibly relaxed. “Okay. But we have to try. As many times as it takes.”
Mason nodded. “We’ll try. Now, do me a favor and get everyone in here and get back to your window. We need to talk as a group and get our shit together.”
“Dunaway is already asleep.” Booker sniffled, but his eyes were clear and serious again. He was fine for the moment.
Mason sighed. “I don’t care. Get everyone in here. We need to talk.”
* * *
More than Dunaway had been asleep in the sleeping bags on the Danielses’ floor and it took Higgs some time to get everyone roused and back to the table. The gunsmith and his daughter had volunteered to stay by the windows and keep watch while the cadets talked. Once everyone was settled at the table, Mason stood at the head of the table and spoke softly. “Look, I can’t explain what happened. None of us can. We have a pretty good idea of where and when we are. That’s the good news. We have a lot to learn about what’s going on outside this cabin, but that doesn’t change where we’re at. We’re here and we need to figure out what to do.”
All of their eyes were on him expectantly and with the exception of Stratton’s mocking half smile, they were ready to listen. He took a deep breath and continued.
“Here’s the situation.” For a moment he faltered, but then all of the training they’d done on operations orders and planning came back to mind. He chuckled. “We’ll do this the Army way. Enemy forces. From what the Danielses have told us, we’re behind British lines four days before the Battle of Trenton, 1776. Our location is about four miles to the north-northwest of Trenton. This territory is occupied by Hessians and some British regulars. They’re pretty much surrounding us as we speak and—” Murphy raised his hand. “What?”
Murphy cleared his throat. His face was serious, not the usual happy-go-lucky one he wore. “I did a report on this just a few weeks ago.”
Mason blinked. “New Jersey?”
“The run-up to the Battle of Trenton and the battle itself. For my military history class.”
Mason realized that he’d had the same class, an ROTC requirement, the year before. He’d focused on the Continental Congress and their relative inaction during the winter of 1776 instead of an actual battle, earning him a C. “And?”
“There’s a lot more going on here—this side of the river—than we were taught in school,” Murphy said. “A lot more.”
Mason made a come-on gesture. “So, what do we need to know?”
“Washington had a lot of help getting ready for Trenton. Seriously, this was the fascinating stuff I learned. There’s so much about this time period that we didn’t hear about in school I had to dig deep for Dr. Cole’s class, man.”
“Murphy? Come on,” Higgs said. “We need to hear this, fascinating or not.”
Murphy replied, “Sorry, guys. This is just weird, you know? Anyway, tonight is December 21. Across the river to the south of Trenton, there is a General Ewing who is sending boats across the Delaware to burn houses along the shore in Trenton. Think of it like an insurgent attack against the Hessians. They’re really riling up the garrison—pretty much to the point of stress and failure. Washington will keep this up for days and the Hessian commander, Colonel Rall, pretty much runs his regiment ragged.”
“What about the British? Where are they?”
“The closest real threat is Princeton—about eight miles away to the northeast. There are a few thousand British regulars there. Most are spread out along the New Jersey frontier now. They’ve just recently determined that the war is basically paused for the winter. The main army garrison is in New York and while they still believe they can find and destroy Washington before 1777 starts, the leadership has pretty much decided that Washington is on the run and ending the rebellion can wait until spring.” Murphy looked at the group, cleared his throat, and continued. “There are some British forces in Trenton. Less than fifty dragoons, I think. There are about two thousand Hessians, give or take, in Trenton. The real concern we have right now is that there are a lot of friendlies operating around us. The Hunterdon raids stopped yesterday, but they are still around us. Ewing’s men won’t come inland, and that’s fine, but there are skirmish parties roaming around. If we’re found by them, they’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”
“Hunterdon raids?” Stratton asked. “What are those?”
“Long and fascinating story,” Murphy said. “Again, think insurgency. There are a lot of friendlies out there harassing the Hessians and the British all over New Jersey. They’re pretty upset with how the British and the Hessians have treated them in the last couple of months. It’s crazy out there.”
Mason nodded and looked at Booker. “That’s why we’re not going out with flashlights. Plus, we really didn’t get a good look at the terrain. Getting lost in the cold is not something I want to do.”
“Plus, we have a bigger problem,” Stratton said. “We lost a weapon. That should scare the shit of out all of us.”
Dunaway yawned. “Why? It’s a rifle.”
Higgs leaned in, her eyes blazing at the younger woman. “Modern technology. The whole concept of interchangeable parts. The Industrial Revolution. All of it. If the British get the rifle, they’ll be able to move all of that along faster. Maybe even expand their empire.”
“If we’re stuck here, we’ll be dead by then. Big deal.” Dunaway rolled her eyes.
“It is a big deal.” Higgs glared. “We could change the course of history!”
Koch leaned forward and his arms jostled the rough-hewn table. “Look, time doesn’t work like that.”
Stratton laughed. “You’re a farm boy. What do you know about time?”
“My uncle’s farm ain’t far from where the Alexander Correctional Facility was. It disappeared, right? The area filled up with all kinds of stuff from sixty-five million years before. If what happened to us is what happened to the prison, what we do won’t change anything.”
“That’s bullshit,” Stratton said. “How can you—”
Koch raised a hand. “Our timeline wasn’t affected. There’s been no evidence of humans going back that far.”
“Maybe they all died or got dropped into a volcano!”
“Or maybe,” Koch said, “they didn’t and created their own version of history. A parallel universe. That’s one possible explanation. Not saying that it’s something else, but we’re back in time and shit’s kinda fucked up, okay?”
Mason shook his suddenly throbbing head. “Look, whether we’re in our timeline or a completely new one doesn’t matter. We have to have a plan. Tomorrow, we’re going back to where we came in—same time and all. We’ll see what happens. If we get back, great. Awesome story. If we don’t, then we’ve got to figure out our options. I see we have two.”
Murphy looked up at Stratton and then to Mason. “And they are?”
“We move west, find a place to hide. That’s option one.” Mason took a breath. “Option two is we find General Washington, and tell him our story. Either course of action has us crossing the Delaware. Or we try to find a place to hide out here until spring. I don’t think that’s smart for us or for the Danielses.”
Murphy sighed. “We are a liability to them. Unless we all suddenly learn to act like them, dress like them, and talk like them, we’re going to be easily found out. We can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.”
“All of our choices are dangerous, Murphy,” Koch said. His voice was little more than a whisper.
Stratton brightened. “What we know is as dangerous as our weapons and our gear, guys.”
Mason nodded. It was true. Knowledge was power and all that. “But, there’s a lot we don’t know. Look around you. None of us have ever lived like this. We have to learn quick and be careful doing it. Getting caught, or killed, isn’t an option.”
Higgs looked at her hands. “We’ve had enough of that for a while.”
Her tone troubled Mason for a split second. “Understand, everybody. We’re at war and because we’re different”—he paused and looked at Booker—“we’re in danger from both sides. Everybody here is going to think that Booker and I are freed men or escaped slaves. That’s trouble for us and any allies we gain are going to assume that Higgs and Dunaway can’t do anything soldierly. One look at us and they know we’re something very different and a threat.”
Higgs looked up at them. “We have to take care of each other.”
Booker snorted. “Nah. We gotta go home.”
Mason nodded. “We’re going to try, yes. But if we don’t make it, Higgs is right. Our first priority is to take care of each other.”
“And the second?” Stratton asked. “Join Washington’s army?”
“Not immediately,” Mason said.
“Why not? We’d be generals in a week!” Stratton slapped Murphy’s shoulder and grinned.
Higgs rolled her eyes. “He’d see through your bullshit way before then, Stratton.”
“Whatever. You’d make a great camp follower, Higgs.”
“Shut up,” Higgs said. She looked up at Mason with a “can you believe this asshole” look on her face.
Koch said softly, “We gotta find that weapon. Emily . . . she shot that last Hessian. The one that ran into the woods. Maybe we can track the blood. When it gets light.”
Mason nodded. Finally, a good idea. “Would give us something to do in the morning before we head out to where we came in.”
Even Stratton nodded his head. Mason decided to press his minuscule advantage. “We’re going to keep watch all night—I’ll take the first and last one as the squad leader. Higgs has the schedule. Try to get some sleep, no electronics. Just get some rest and we can figure this out in the morning.”
He watched the underclassmen get up and move into the parlor. Stratton, Higgs, and Booker hadn’t moved, which neither surprised nor scared him. The four of them were going to either find a way out of this mess or not.
* * *
There was a little more stew, so Mason and Stratton had another bowl while Higgs and Booker made sure the younger cadets were asleep or pulling security. They were quiet, leaving Mason to wonder what his counterpart was thinking the entire time. Joining Washington’s army sounded great in theory. Their knowledge could change the war and speed up independence. But there was great risk involved. Death and disease were constant threats. Of course, he rationalized they could be killed by wild animals or Native Americans as they traveled west, too. The more he thought about it, the more his head hurt. Everything was different here and if they could not get home, they had to adapt quickly. More importantly, if they failed to get home the next afternoon, they needed to move away from the Danielses.
Maybe going to Washington isn’t such a bad idea?
“You okay?” Stratton asked.
“What?”
“I asked if you were okay. You stopped eating and stared off into space.”
Mason snorted and ate the bite of stew on his hanging spoon. “Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking things through.”
Stratton chuckled. “And how’s that going for you?”
Mason sighed. He wanted to say it was overwhelming or something to that effect, but Stratton would see that as a sign of weakness. Any opportunity to control the situation and the squad was an opening that Stratton could capitalize upon. If he’d been in charge, they would be marching through the night to Washington’s army. Something dangerous and stupid was not what Mason was willing to do. Joining Washington’s army was the last possibility Mason intended to pursue. There were always other options.
Except for the rifle, I believe that.
“We have to get the rifle. Or at least try,” Mason said. “Any luck and we’ll find it in the woods tomorrow before we head back to where we came in.”
“And if we don’t, we have to assume the Hessians have it. And that they’ll pass it to the British.” Stratton dropped his spoon into the bowl. “That could spell doom for America in this timeline.”
Mason nodded. “Lots of possibilities.”
“None of them good.” Stratton shrugged. “Our knowledge, though, could change that.”
Of course it could, Mason thought. There was a lot their knowledge could do. Changing the world wasn’t something Mason was prepared to do.
Booker joined them at the table. His eyes were a million miles away. Brown eyes puffy from silent tears, Mason knew his friend was hurting but didn’t have a clue what to say. They shared the same skin color but had very different upbringings.
“You okay?” Mason asked.
Booker nodded but said nothing. His fingers traced the wood grains on the table in front of him. If they could not go home, Mason wondered if Booker would ever function. He and his younger brother were inseparable. Not knowing if his brother survived the shooting, or the circumstances around it, had to be miserable. Mason was an only child, so knowing that bond of kinship was as alien as their current surroundings.
They sat quietly until Higgs joined them. She sat down and brushed her dirty-blonde hair away from her face. “Martinez and Murphy have the first watch. I know you said you’d take it, Mason, but we need to talk.”
She thinks of everything. Mason nodded, suddenly down on himself. Maybe Higgs should be the squad leader now.
“Thanks.” He looked at the group. “Where are the Danielses?”
“Emily is upstairs. Mister Daniels went outside a few minutes ago,” Booker said. “He’s over by the barn.”
Mason nodded and lowered his voice. “We have to have a plan. In the morning, we need to gather all of our gear and get out of here.”
“You said we were—” Booker started.
“We are going to look for the rifle and try to go home. If it doesn’t work, we don’t need to come back here. Every moment we’re here puts them at risk,” Mason said. “If someone came, we can’t defend ourselves or them. We need to move into the woods or someplace that’s been abandoned.”
“We could move into the barn,” Stratton said.
“No,” Mason said. “We need to be a little distance from here and close to the spot we arrived at. I’ll ask Daniels what he thinks, but we can’t stay here.”
Higgs nodded. “It’s too dangerous, I agree.”
“We’ll need some kind of shelter. The winter is about to get brutal,” Stratton said. “I remember that much from my history classes. The winter of 1776 to ’77 was awful.”
“Staying outside is something we can’t do for long. Better gear or not,” Higgs said. Mason agreed. Two hundred years of materiel development would help them over their now-modern compatriots, but it was not something he wanted to do any more than necessary.
“Don’t matter,” Booker said. “We’re going home tomorrow.”
“We don’t know that,” Mason said.
“And we don’t know we ain’t gonna end up right back in 2008, Mason,” Booker said. “I say we forget the rifle and go straight back there soon as it’s light. We wait all damned day if we have to. Get home. That’s what we gotta do.”
The confrontational tone, even in a hushed voice, couldn’t be missed. Mason gestured at Booker to get his attention. “We’re going to try, Booker. We’re going to see about finding the rifle. I don’t want to go home to a different world, if that’s how this shit works, all right?”
“We have to try, Booker,” Higgs said. “And no matter what happens, we’re going to take care of each other.”
Mason sighed. “Okay, in the morning we have a couple of things to do. Stratton—you’re in charge of inventorying our gear. Take Kennedy’s and Porter’s gear and split it between everyone. Higgs—once we find a place to hole up, you’re in charge of priorities of work. Cover and concealment—all of that kind of stuff. Booker—after tonight, our security is your responsibility. Make sure we maintain security all the time. You know how Sergeant Sheets talks about situational awareness? That’s your thing now. Keep us focused, all right?”
All three nodded at him. Stratton even looked somewhat impressed.
“What else?” Higgs said.
Mason nodded. “Murphy said he did a paper on Trenton this semester. I think he needs to draw up a sand table or something and brief us what he knows. Knowledge is power, but we have to know what we’re dealing with out here. We gotta understand the situation more than we think we know from high school. I know I didn’t pay that close of attention.”
He got the chuckle he was looking for and it filled him with a little hope instead of dread. Higgs looked at him. “If we can’t find that rifle, and we can’t get home, what then?”
“I think Stratton may be right about getting to Washington, but I don’t want to rush it—especially trying to cross the river. He’s coming to us on the day after Christmas. That’s a good starting point unless the situation changes. For now, though, let’s get some sleep. Long day tomorrow and we have to be sharp. Sharper than we’ve ever been in training. Our lives are going to depend on it.”
No one moved for a long moment. Higgs finally leaned close over the table. “We need to get the full lay down on what’s out there. From Daniels and everything that Murphy can remember, Mason.”
Mason nodded. “Tell Murphy I want to see him at the end of his watch.”
Higgs frowned. “You need to sleep, Mason. You’re the squad leader and we need you sharp tomorrow, too.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll need to talk to Mister Daniels before I rack out anyway.”