Deadly Comrades (A Dr Josiah Bartlett Mystery Book 4) by Daniel Bjork

Author:Daniel Bjork [Bjork, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lume Books
Published: 2017-09-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

So I was a one-armed man on the run. Tomas had too much sympathy for Yankee scum, but I needed him. He was like an attentive nurse, tending my stump as if it was his own, cleaning it and putting fresh bandages around it, which we had stolen as we left ‘misery hospital’.

We walked to the Baltimore and Ohio Depot. We had no money. Nothing except the joy of leaving ‘misery Hospital’. The Depot was a busy place. People were rushing about as if they had some destination in mind. It looked like a bunch of mice lookin’ for cheese they had smelt and couldn’t find. Tomas was also a mouse in human disguise. He scurried around the station as I sat and rubbed my throbbing stub. I had no idea where he was, put my head in my hands and waited.

“Drink this, Jack. It is soup. Here is a hot bun; dip it in the soup.”

“Where did you get this, Tomas, you have no money? Did you steal it from a vendor?

“Oh no, you underestimate your best friend. I have a ladies’ purse, filled with bank notes. I haven’t counted them yet, but I’ll bet there is a hundred at least. We can board the train and be in Baltimore in an hour. We might stay in a hotel a night or two and decide what we are goin’ to do.”

“Ah Tomas, you are a true friend who saved us from wandering the streets of Washington City – me, a one-armed man with his small and precious friend lost and helpless; you, the man who protected us from being waylaid, beaten and robbed, although they would have gotten nothing and might have killed us out of frustration.”

“I have tickets for two to Baltimore, Jack. Our train leaves in two hours. Eat your food, my friend. We will sleep well in Baltimore tonight. I don’t know any hotels in the city, never been there. But our horse cabby will, and I’ll ask for the best establishment in town. I know your arm hurts somethin’ terrible, but grit your teeth. Things will be much better soon. Besides Maryland should be in the Confederacy and folks will want to help two lads who nearly gave their lives for Jackson and Lee.”

This kid is amazing, I thought. Too smart, too helpful, too friendly, and too ready to take pack leadership. Tomas wanted something. I doubted his motives. Why stick with me when he could already be on a Baltimore train with his one hundred banknotes and on to a new life. He was the sweet boy who would stab you in the back when you least expected it. I wouldn’t sleep with him at my side. He had no interest in slicing the throat of that smelly turd, Timothy Chase, I was sure of that. Under his slick, so-called Southern skin Tomas was a Yankee. He was a forgiver, a let-bygones-be-bygones man, a turncoat, and a friggin’ traitor. Comrades be damned north of the Mason-Dixon line.

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