Promise Bridge by Eileen Clymer Schwab Page A

two other runaways still holding Livetta down, I did as Colt instructed. Most of the festering washed away with the first rush of water, and before the kettle emptied, the wound appeared clear and ready to be sealed. I shifted around Marcus and placed a moist rag on Livetta’s forehead.
    “You are very brave, Livie. We’re almost done.” Her face eased in response to my words.
    “Our mama and sister used to call her Livie,” Marcus said as he loosened his grip. “Haven’t heard the name spoken fo’ the better part of six years.”
    Colt dipped the knife blade into the unused water left in the kettle and gave it a vigorous swirl. He examined the cleansed metal, then walked to the fire and held it out in the flame.
    “I must seal the wound closed as protection from any other infectious germ. Since I don’t have all the medical equipment needed, I must burn the flesh over it.”
    Before we had the chance to digest the horror of what he was about to do, Colt moved from the fire, the hot orange glow of his blade aimed down at the unsuspecting girl’s exposed hip. We all grabbed what we could of Livie as Colt pressed the hot blade across the wound, instantly sending the sizzle and smell of burnt flesh throughout the cave. He was as quick and humane as his trembling hands allowed, but Livie exploded with an agonizing cry. Colt tossed the knife back into the wooden box and helped hold down Livie’s convulsing body.
    “It’s done, Livie. It’s all done,” I whispered over and over in her ear as her cries peaked, then trailed off as she fainted in painful surrender.
    Livie did not move for more than an hour, and was still unconscious when Colt and I decided it was best to head back to Hillcrest before Aunt Augusta became suspicious of our absence. As we exited the cave, I heard Raizy’s voice rise.
    “You can’t trust ’em. They take pleasure in our sufferin’ and have done nothin’ but torture this poor chile. Now she’s branded like a prize steer. This girl gots’ta be sacryficed for the good of the group. That’s jes’ the way of it.”

Chapter 6
    “S he dead, Miz Hannah,” Lillabelle wailed as I entered the cave. “She dead! She dead!”
    The bottom dropped out of my heart as the young quadroon clung to my legs, shackling me from running to the group huddled, in the late-morning gleam of the cave, around the bed of needles opposite me. I had waited impatiently for Aunt Augusta to set off on her trip to Cumberland Gap, so I could come and go as I pleased. As I waved Aunt Augusta good-bye, I had wondered why Colt had not come to bid her farewell. I had no way of knowing that I would find him here with the runaways.
    Lillabelle pulled me toward the circle of slaves. I stumbled in disbelief. Our efforts to save Livie had failed, and by the look of the shoving match between Colt and Marcus, we were being held accountable. Colt shook his head and waved his hands at Marcus.
    “It was a foolish mistake,” he said in an irritated voice. “And far too dangerous . . .” He paused when he saw me rushing toward him. “Hannah?”
    I cried out, “Why didn’t you tell me? Maybe I could have done something!” Raizy jumped out of my way as I threw myself into the inner circle and fell into the dust at Colt and Marcus’s feet. “Why didn’t you tell me she died?”
    Marcus rolled his eyes with exasperation. “Not you too. You is as bad as Lillabelle, carrying on ’bout an ol’ jackrabbit like it’s a member of the family.”
    “What?”
    He held out his hand and let the slaughtered rabbit he’d wrangled swing by its ears back and forth in front of my confused face. “I keep tellin’ this fool that after three days of comin’ up here in the woods under the guise of huntin’, he best be takin’ home a kill, or his daddy is gonna get to wonderin’.”
    I swung around in a fit of tears and saw Livie propped on one arm, staring at me with a tired eyebrow raised in amusement. “I never knowed white