To Catch a Copperhead (2 page)

I cocked the pistol’s hammer
back but the girl spoke up. “Wait! You can’t kill him. You made a
deal. Talk or else, remember. Well, he talked. So if you kill him,
then you’re no better than he is.”

I glanced at her with my
head tilted to the side. My annoyance wasn’t missed by either, but
she stood defiantly and repeated, “You can’t kill him.”

With one leg cut open and
one knee shattered, the man wasn’t going anywhere but to make sure,
I kicked him in the other knee. He screamed in an unmanly manner as
I grabbed the girl’s hand.

“
Come on, the police will
show up in no time.

“
Wait. Where are we going?”
she asked as I all but dragged her down the darkened street.
Frustrated, she yanked her hand from mine and stopped. “I demand to
know where we are going and who you are.”

Calls from behind me caught
our attention and we turned to see what the ruckus was. A pair of
policemen had found the wounded Irishman. When she looked back to
me, I nodded to the sidewalk on the far side of the street. She
followed me and then gasped.

“
You’re the one the papers
write about,” she whispered in an urgent voice. Her eyes looked me
up and down. My wardrobe choice had been well documented by the few
folks who’d witnessed my exploits. The Union Cavalry jacket that
I’d altered to hug my curves a little better, black trousers, and
knee-high boots, not to mention my weaponry, made it all too clear
as to who I was. “You’re Assassin Anne!”

I rolled my eyes and felt
the flutter in my stomach as the need to punch someone rose up. The
papers had needed something to call me and some editor coined the
name “Assassin Anne”. If I knew which one, I’d consider adding him
to the list of people I’ve removed from this world in my efforts to
make New York City a better and safer place to live.

“
For the sake of argument,
yes,” I said and let out a frustrated breath. “But just call me
Jessica.”

She tilted her head and
asked, “Why?”

“
Because that’s my name,” I
said in an irritated manner and looked up at the night sky. The
moon hung overhead and lent its light to the streetlamps to help
illuminate the cobblestones. “What hotels did they mention? We’ll
have to move fast if we’re to catch any of them.”

“
The St. James, Tammany, the
LaFarge house and the Royale. I know there were more but those are
the only ones I can remember,” she said, then added in a whisper,
“Sorry.”

I looked her over to assess
whether or not to take her with me. I could remember the hotel
names, but if she’d seen their faces then she could pick them out
of a crowd. However, with her tagging along, I’d not be able to use
my normal tactics. I didn’t think she’d be able to climb the side
of a building and leap from one rooftop to another without falling
to an unpleasant end.

“
What’s your name?” I asked
as we started a slow run into the darkness of the street
ahead.

“
Emma, Emma
Cross.”

“
I take it that you work in
a hotel?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, but
I clean for two boarding houses. I worked late this evening to
catch up on things.”

“
And you heard them through
the door? Tell the truth now. Why were you listening at the
door?”

I saw the guilty look on her
face and repeated the question. She looked over at me and
reluctantly answered.

“
I thought I saw my father
come into the boarding house,” she said. “I’ve long suspected that
he has a mistress since he leaves our home a few nights each week.
Mother knows but doesn’t say anything. She passes his nighttime
excursions off as just his need to spend time with other men,
playing cards and gambling.” Her gaze never met mine but stayed
fixed on the cobblestones as we ran. “I wanted to confront him and
make him see how much he’s hurting Mother.”

“
And you thought that he was
in the room with the conspirators?” I asked and watched her
nod.

“
I leaned against the door
harder than I thought and it popped open. I fell on my face in
front of all of them. I took off and only saw a few, but didn’t see
my father in the room.”

“
What are you prepared to
do?” I asked as we slowed to a stop.

“
I don’t
understand.”

“
What are you prepared to do
if your father turns out to be a conspirator? Will you take arms
against him? After all, they mean to aid the enemy, the South in
this plot to burn the city and murder the people within those
buildings.”

“
I don’t know,” she
whispered. “I don’t think he’s part of this. He can’t be. Not my
daddy.”

I looked around and mentally
mapped out our location. The rooftops would give us a good vantage
point of one of the hotels. If I could get to the top fast enough,
I might be able to catch them before they could get
inside.

“
Come with me. You’re going
to have to learn to climb,” I said and grabbed her hand.

I pulled her to the side of
a brownstone. Its thick and uneven stonework would make for good
footholds while we hung on to and used the roof’s drainpipes to
scale the side of the building.

“
Just do what I do and don’t
look down,” I said and slowly began my ascent. A dozen feet off the
ground, I looked down at her and nodded to the building. “Well,
come on.” She was scared or nervous or both. I didn’t care which
but I understood what she was feeling. I also knew that there was
no time to coddle her. “Breathe deep and think of the adventures
you had as a child. That’s all this is, a big adventure. Just have
fun and keep up.”

Hand over hand, I pulled
myself up the pipe with ease. Grunts and groans rose from below me
and I couldn’t help but snicker. When I’d adopted this life, it
took a while to learn the tricks. When I glanced down, I could see
that all the color had drained from her face but she climbed with a
better speed than I’d expected.

Once on the roof, I ran to
the far side and drew my rifle. As it came over my shoulder, the
spring-loaded stock popped into position. I pulled it back against
my shoulder and peered down the telescopic sights. With deliberate
slowness, I moved the barrel back and forth as I scanned the
streets. A block away, I spotted a man walking quickly and carrying
a wooden tote.

“
I think I see one. He’s
heading towards the Tammany Hotel,” I said.

“
I can’t see…” she started
but I pulled a spyglass from my belt and handed it to her. She
opened it and moved it up to her eye. She took a moment but then
said, “Yes. He is one of them.”

The crosshairs in the scope
never waived as I asked, “Are you certain?”

“
Yes,” she said and then
jumped when my rifle popped. The silencer did its job and kept the
sound of the shell’s report to a minimum but the muffled pop still
spooked her. She pulled the spyglass back to her eye and looked.
“You missed.”

“
Just wait for it, little
bird,” I whispered and continued to watch through the
scope.

The shot had been long but
hit exactly where I’d intended. Instead of striking the man, it
passed through the wooden tote and shattered the vial of Greek fire
within. He’d felt the impact and pulled the box up to his chest and
held it tightly as he began a final sprint toward the hotel. The
volatile mixture gushed out and was immediately soaked into the
cotton padding and leached into the thin wood of the box itself.
Some leaked through the box’s loose seam and was absorbed into the
man’s jacket. It only took seconds for the reaction to occur. The
cotton interior burst into flames that were so hot and brilliant
that the thin wood couldn’t resist. The box exploded in the man’s
arms, igniting his jacket and instantly cooking the flesh on his
hands, neck and face.

He dropped the box and ran
forward, but his clothing was already engulfed. He staggered and
then fell to the cobblestones. Arms and legs flailed from the ball
of fire that his torso had become.

I heard Emma’s sharp inhale
and then she turned toward me in a panic. “You have to do
something. He’s on fire!”

“
Yes he is,” I replied in a
flat voice and glanced over into her wide and pleading eyes. “How
many people would he have burnt alive in the hotel? Do you think
he’d have had any measure of remorse?”

“
Shoot him! Please, put him
out of his misery. You can’t be that cruel. It doesn’t matter what
he’d have done, you’ve got to be the better person. Please!” She
screamed.

The words stung because I
would have let him burn. I wanted him to suffer but she had a
point. Were my sadistic needs making me as evil as he was? I placed
the crosshairs on where I thought his head should be and pulled the
trigger. A split second later, his limbs jerked for the last time
and dropped down onto the scorched cobblestones.

I looked over and asked,
“Better?”

“
I… I think so,” she
stammered. “You killed him. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“
No, I don’t let it,” I lied
and holstered the rifle. “We’ve got to move if we’re going to stop
any more of these bastards.”

We got to the street and
headed north. Most folks in the area had rushed to the aid of the
now-deceased Copperhead, so we were able to move quickly without
drawing attention. Emma, for her part, did as I asked and when I
waved, she ducked into the shadows with me.

“
I’ve read stories about
you. They said you are a heartless killer,” she whispered with a
hint of disappointment in her tone. “I see that they were
right.”

“
Killer?” I stopped and
turned. She almost walked into me, so I leaned close and added,
“Yes, I kill and I do it without remorse. But know this. I only
kill those men who have it coming.”

“
To protect the whores?” Her
words tore into me and anger grew within my core.

“
Damn right to protect the
women of this neighborhood,” I spat out and turned to continue
walking. When I heard her footfalls behind me, I continued.
“Someone like you wouldn’t understand. You grew up in a decent
house with parents who gave you everything you needed.”

“
Not everything. There were
plenty of times I didn’t have meals or decent clothing…”

I spun and stopped her. “You
complain because you think your father is playing around with some
tart behind your mother’s back. Still, he works and keeps up his
household, doesn’t he? My father sold me to a brothel when I was
ten for enough coins to buy a bottle of rum. I had to grow up doing
things that I can never purge from my memories. I was beaten
regularly by men who got their kicks inflicting pain… hearing women
scream and suffer.”

Her stunned expression was
priceless. I wanted her to understand why I did this. Deep inside,
I wanted her to suffer as well. She wasn’t a girl of privilege, but
still, she’d never been raped and beaten to within an inch of her
life. She could never know the horrors and the reasons why I needed
to protect the girl who’d not escaped the streets yet.

“
There are men who are
aggressive and forceful in a carnal manner but only to a point. I
have no issues with that. I think men should be, but when a woman
is forced? When she is hit, slapped, or kicked then he has gone too
far.” I started walking again. She moved up beside me, matching my
stride.

“
I don’t know what to say,”
she whispered. “I’m sorry that…”

“
Spare me your pity,” I
said. After a few moments of awkward silence, I added, “Two years
ago, I was beaten so badly that I spent weeks in the hospital
recovering. I was told that my organs were ruined and that I may
never be able to have a child. A nurse took me into her home after
I was well enough to leave and helped me escape from the brothel
where I’d been nothing more than a slave. Now, I’m returning the
favor and using my skills to give the women of the streets a
chance.”

“
By killing the men you
think are harmful?”

“
I never kill unless I see
them strike or harm someone,” I said and motioned her to a dark
corner.

A group of men walked past
us and never realized that we stood hidden in the shadows. One
young man bragged loudly about his conquest of a girl named Betty.
He laughingly commented on having to backhand the bitch to get her
to lay still. My hand instinctively reached back to the butt of my
rifle when he spoke of demanding his money back afterwards and how
she’d cried as he slapped her until the coins were returned. Emma’s
elbow poked my arm and reminded me that we had a more pressing
issue to deal with.

Once they were past us, we
moved back out onto the street and headed to the next
hotel.

“
What were you going to do
back there? Shoot the man in the back?” Emma quipped but I could
hear the sarcasm. “You talk about men being bullies because of
their size and strength, but couldn’t the same be said of you? Are
you just a bully with a gun who kills to satisfy some personal
need?”