Chapter Thirteen
The days seemed endless to Walker. He slaved from sunup to sundown in the blazing heat under the ever-watchful eyes of the guards and their dogs. The other prisoners had heard the guards taunting him about his Indian blood and most of them stayed away from him, wanting nothing to do with a half-breed, and that was fine with Walker. He kept to himself, doing what it took to stay alive, day by day.
The brutality of the guards was never in doubt. If any prisoner showed signs of slowing down in his work, he was beaten viciously. When the guards went after one of the prisoners, the others kept on working, not wanting to risk being punished themselves.
Al Foley was one of the oldest inmates, rumored to be over sixty. He had a reputation for being a hard man. Gray-haired, thin and wiry, he was stronger than many of the younger men and worked harder. Many of the prisoners resented him, for the guards forced them to keep pace with Foley.
It was a brutally hot day. Foley had just finished loading more lumber onto the wagon and had turned away, when one of the prisoners pushed a log toward a guard named O'Malley. O'Malley was standing with his back to the wagon, watching the prisoners work, and had no idea of the danger he was in.
"Look out!" shouted Bryant, another guard.
O'Malley was lucky enough to get out of the way before the log crashed to the ground. Both guards were furious and went after Foley, believing he was responsible.
The other inmates knew better than to interfere. They quickly backed away to watch the old man get what was coming to him. The younger inmate who'd managed to shove the log toward the guard, unnoticed, was enjoying the spectacle as Bryant and O'Malley began to beat him.
Foley was a tough man, but any attack on a guard brought severe punishment. O'Malley and Bryant were out for blood as they pummeled Foley to the ground.
Walker had seen what had really happened and went to Foley's defense. He grabbed one of the guards by the shoulder to pull him off the fallen inmate, but before he could say or do anything more, several more guards who'd seen him make his move joined in.
The prisoners were hooting and hollering in excitement as they watched the bloody battle. More guards came running with their guns drawn to make sure no rioting occurred. The fighting didn't stop until both Foley and Walker were unconscious on the ground.
"What started this?" Parker, the head guard, demanded of O'Malley.
"We were beating Foley, and the Chief jumped in!" O'Malley told him.
"Put the Chief in solitary and use the bat on him when he comes around!" the head guard ordered.
"What do you want us to do with Foley?"
"Leave him there, so the rest of these animals will see what happens if they give us any trouble."
Walker was dragged off to the dark confines of the solitary cell, where he was left chained to the wall.
The pain was excruciating as Walker slowly regained consciousness, and he realized his ribs had been injured even worse. He lifted his head to stare around the dark room and recognized that he'd been taken to the isolated building that was used for prisoners in solitary confinement. The only light coming in was from a small window in the door, just wide enough for the guards to look in. He tried to move, and it was then that he realized the iron cuffs cutting into his wrists were attached by a chain to a ring in the wall. He hadn't meant to make a sound, but he couldn't stop the groan of agony that escaped him as he righted himself and sat up, leaning back against the stone wall to brace himself. The last thing he remembered was trying to help Foley, and he wondered if the other man had survived the beating.
"So, you've finally started stirring," O'Malley' taunted from the door, having heard his groan and the sound of the chains moving.
Walker didn't respond. He just looked up. All he could see were the guard's eyes watching him through the small opening. He had heard the other prisoners talk about what happened in solitary, and he knew he was going to experience that horror firsthand now.
The door opened and O'Malley and Bryant came in.
The sudden harsh light coming through the open door blinded Walker for a moment. When he finally could see again, he realized O'Malley was carrying the weapon known as "the bat." It was a wooden handle with leather straps attached to it that was used for whipping the inmates. He'd seen the scars on some of the other prisoners and knew what was about to happen.
"Turn him around," O'Malley told Bryant.
Bryant started to unfasten the chain at Walker's wrist to reverse his position.
The thought that he was going to be unchained for even a few moments drove Walker to take desperate action. He knew his chances of escaping were slim, but he also knew this was the only opportunity he would have. The two guards had left the door behind them standing open, so if he could get away from these two and lock them in, he had a chance. The solitary building was isolated from the other buildings in the prison, so it was possible that he might be able to find a way out before anyone was alerted to his escape.
When the guard finally released the chain, Walker made his move. He lunged at Bryant, knocking him backward, and then charged O'Malley, who was standing near the door.
Walker didn't get far.
O'Malley was always ready for trouble. He expected the worst from the prisoners and he usually got it. When Walker came at him, he reacted instantly, hitting him savagely. Bryant got back to his feet and rushed to help. The two guards dragged the still-struggling Walker back, stripped off his shirt and chained him up, facing the wall.
"That was a real stupid thing to do, Chief," O'Malley taunted as he prepared to use the bat on him. "I just may have to beat a little more sense into you than I thought."
O'Malley began the punishment, wielding the bat with practiced ease. He enjoyed teaching these prisoners lessons they wouldn't forget. He knew the marks the bat left on his back would remind the Chief for a long time of the mistakes he'd made that day.
Walker locked his jaw against the pain and fought for control as the guard lashed him repeatedly. The pain was agonizing, the leather raising blistering welts upon his back.
"What do you think, Bryant? Think the Chief here has learned his lesson?" O'Malley asked after hitting him five times.
"He deserves a few more—savage that he is," the other guard said, wanting the prisoner to learn his place once and for all.
O'Malley delivered several more violent lashes, and decided he'd done his job when he finally saw the prisoner lose consciousness.
"That should be a lesson he remembers," O'Malley said as he smiled at Bryant.
"I guess we'll find out when he comes around," the other guard told him. He'd seen some strong-willed prisoners over the years, but this half-breed seemed one of the worst. There was no way of telling whether the beating O'Malley had just given him would break his spirit or not.
They unfastened him from the wall and left him lying face-down on the dirty cell floor, then locked and barred the door on their way out.
It was some time later that Walker finally stirred, opening his eyes to stare around the darkness of the solitary cell. No light shone through the small window in the door, so he knew night had fallen. He tried to shift positions and sit up, but excruciating pain racked him. He stayed where he was, unmoving. Walker told himself he was lucky to be alive after his failed escape attempt, but he wondered what luck had to do with anything right then.
A driving rage sustained him through the long, pain-filled hours of darkness. He knew whoever had killed Ben was still out there. Walker didn't know how he was going to do it, but he became even more determined to escape the hell his life had become and prove his innocence.
He remembered Jim's promise never to give up on the search for the real murderer, and he knew if anyone could find a way to outsmart the killer, it was Jim.
Roni slipped into Walker's thoughts then. The memory of her kiss and declaration of love strengthened his resolve to get through this trial.
In silence, he awaited the coming dawn, trying not to think of what torture the guards had planned for him in the new day.
O'Malley went out to check on the other prisoners as they were bedding down for the night.
"What happened to the Chief?" one of the inmates asked. Many of the prisoners wondered if he'd been killed by the guards.
"Don't go getting excited about the Chief being gone, boys," O'Malley told them sarcastically. "Your friend's alive and well. He's just doing some time in solitary."
Foley heard the exchange and was sickened by it. He'd done his share of time in that hellish place and knew Walker was paying the price for coming to his aid. Foley couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself to be beholden to anyone, but he felt he owed the other man. Once Walker was out of solitary, he would see what he could do for him.
O'Malley threw the door open and stood in the doorway of the solitary cell, staring down at Walker where he sat on the floor.
"Let's go, Chief," he ordered, satisfied that the beating—along with two days of being given no food and only small amounts of water—had taken their toll on the prisoner.
Walker got up slowly and made his way to the door to pass by the guard.
O'Malley smiled when he saw the ugly welts on Walker's back. He knew they would be a reminder to him of the consequences of acting up for quite a while.
"Head over to the mess hall. It's time for lunch," he directed, and he followed Walker there, keeping an eye on him.
When they reached the mess hall, one of the other guards handed Walker a shirt.
Walker said nothing as he started to shrug it on. He gritted his teeth against the pain as he drew it up over his back, then went to sit at his assigned place at one of the tables.
The other prisoners watched him cross the room.
O'Malley went up to the front of the mess hall and looked out across the room. "You boys pay attention to the Chief, here. He just got taught a real good lesson about what happens if a prisoner causes any trouble around here. The same thing will happen to you, if you try anything, so remember that!"
Nothing more was said as the food was dished up.
Having gone without food for two days, Walker quickly downed the boiled bacon and corn bread and drank all the water he could. He wasn't certain if they planned on putting him back to work that afternoon, but he knew he was going to need all the strength he could get.
When the meal was finished, the guards took the prisoners back outside to work. They weren't about to go easy on Walker. They were tempted to put him right back doing hard labor. They knew it might kill him and they didn't really care. Even so, they didn't want to slow the other prisoners down, so they found a different job for him to do for that day.
It was much later that afternoon before Foley got the chance to speak with Walker. He kept it short, not wanting to draw the guards' attention.
"I know what you did that day," Foley told him, "and I appreciate it. Give me some time. I'll make it up to you."
And he did.
When the news came some days later that Walker was among the prisoners who had been leased out to a chain gang, Foley managed to slip him a piece of a file, small enough that it could be hidden on his person. As difficult as it would be, the odds of escaping from the chain gang were better than escaping from the prison.
The day for their departure dawned hot and humid. The sun's glare was harsh as it beat down on the prison grounds where the inmates had been lined up and chained together by the neck. Their hands and ankles had also been chained, for the guards wanted to make sure they had no chance to cause any trouble while they were being transported to the lease camp.
Walker stood unmoving with the other prisoners, watching as the iron prison gates slowly swung open. Waiting there just beyond the gates were the transport wagons that would be taking them away.
"All right, boys. Move it out!" one of the guards shouted.
Chained together as they were, the prisoners had to move slowly through the open iron gates.
"So long—Chief," O'Malley sneered he walked past him.
Walker didn't show any outward response to his taunt. Keeping his gaze downcast, he appeared resigned to his fate, but inwardly his anger raged.