Lost and Found Read online

  Lost and Found

  A Novel

  By

  B.C. Yancey

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names of characters, places, and events either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, and events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This novel may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or any other means, without the written permission of the author. Making or distributing electronic or printed copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could be subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Copyright © 2015 by B. C. Yancey

  All rights reserved

  Chapter One

  Lillian Reid sat on the hard train bench and stared out the window, watching the eastern Ohio landscape roll by. It was still hard to believe she'd actually done it. She'd taken hold of her future, for the first time in her life, and abandoned the miserable remnants Richard left her with when he died last month.

  Her heart raced with fear and excitement as a world full of endless possibility opened up before her. Suddenly, the sharp squeal of the train's wheels pierced the air as the brakes were applied. Several passengers looked around expectantly as they waited for the reason for the unplanned stop to be revealed.

  In the next breath, several women started screaming when rough-looking men of varying shapes and sizes with bandanas covering the lower portions of their faces and hats pulled low over their eyes, boarded the train and drew their rifles and pistols.

  "This here is a hold-up!" one of the men shouted. "No one try to be a hero; I got an itchy trigger finger and plenty of know-how to put a bullet in ya if ya dare." He scanned the car, signaling the twelve men behind him. "We require several fine lookin' women, and all the jewelry and valuables you have on ya."

  The outlaws moved down the aisle, training their weapons on people, taking by force what they were unwilling to give freely, and pulling women from their seats as their leader directed them to the ones he wanted.

  Lillian watched, panic-stricken, as the leader motioned to her. Seconds later, one of the men hauled her from her seat and forced her over with the other women huddling together. Three of the men quickly tied the women's hands together, wrapped a cloth around their mouths, and forced them to wait at the door.

  A male passenger suddenly stood, pulling his gun on the men who tried grabbing his wife. The leader quickly shot the man; blood spurted from the hole in his chest as his body slumped back to the bench. His wife screamed hysterically as the man dragged her from her seat and shoved her next to Lillian.

  "Now look what ya made me do!" The leader yelled, backhanding the screaming woman. "I told ya what would happen, and I'm nothing if not a man of my word."

  One of the men stuck his fingers in his mouth and let loose a shrill whistle; getting the leader's attention, he motioned to all the terrified women they'd gathered. The other men nodded to the leader as they finished picking the last of the valuables from the passengers.

  "Alright, ladies and gentlemen," He tipped his hat to the crowd, "thank ya for yer time and patience. My apologies for the disruption, we'll be taking our leave now." He motioned for his men to prod the women off the train. "Don't try to follow us, I'd hate to have to send more of ya to share the sorry fate of that feller there," he grinned. "Have a nice day now, ya hear?" Jumping from the train, he quickly mounted his horse.

  Taking aim with his pistol and emptying the remaining rounds into the train, laughing wickedly as screams from the passengers inside reached him. He kicked his stallion forward, following the other men who had already left at a fast gallop.

  As the days turned into weeks and no escape or rescue was in sight, Lillian tried not to cause any trouble or bring any unnecessary attention to herself. A few days after being abducted, one of the men named Willis tried having his way with her, but she'd scared him off by lying about having the clap. She didn't even know what the clap was; only that when bedding was on the mind, it wasn't desired.

  It seemed to work because none of the men had tried anything since. But tonight was different. The outlaw leader, Walker, was keeping guard and he'd been taunting her throughout the day, saying he had special plans for her once everyone was asleep.

  Hoping he was bluffing, Lillian curled up on her side as best she could and prayed that he would forget his vile promises and go to sleep. She should've known better.

  Lillian startled awake as a dirty, rough hand clamped over her mouth.

  "Make a sound, and I'll slit yer pretty little throat," Walker growled in her ear, the sharp edge of his knife held firmly against her skin, "get up."

  She was helpless but to comply. He was built like an ox, thick and intimidating in its strength. Pockmarks littered what might have been a handsome face at one time. A large scar ran from his left ear to the corner of his mouth and gave the appearance of a perpetually evil snarl. He had greasy blonde hair, the color of dirty dishwater, and some of his teeth were yellow with decay. The stench that emanated from his unwashed body just about bowled her over.

  Untying her from the other women, Walker pulled her to her feet and pushed her ahead of him. Her hands were still tied tightly before her, her hair hung in dirty disarray, and her dress was torn and soiled after weeks on the run. She tripped in the dark, and he chuckled.

  "That's far enough, missy." He yanked on her hair to bring her to a stop. Walker smiled at the fear written plainly in her eyes. "Willis told us you say you have some disease that'll make me less of a man if I sample yer wares." He scraped the sharp point of his knife down her cheek softly and licked his lips as though he were about to sample a tasty morsel.

  Lillian swallowed and fought to remain calm, "It's true."

  Walker pulled her hair sharply, tipping her head back and caused tears to rush to her eyes. "Know what I think?" His cruel eyes slithered over her, "Yer lyin...know what I do to liars?"

  Tears blurred her vision as she fought against his hold and hissed, "Touch me, and I'll kill you."

  He smiled evilly. "I'm the one with the knife, Miss Prissy." He angled the knife to catch the moonlight to prove his point and pushed her down to the hard ground. "Ya fight me, and I'll make it worse for ya." One of his hands held her throat, forcing her flat to the rocky soil.

  A fist-sized rock jabbed into her shoulder blade as Lillian choked on her fear and rage. Did he think she'd give in to him, that she'd just lie there and allow him to do what he wanted with her body? She watched him with hate-filled eyes as he leaned over her, the knife's edge pushed against her jaw as he pressed his disgusting mouth to her neck, trailing his foul kisses across her cheek to her lips.

  His mouth tasted of decaying teeth and onions, making her want to vomit. With all her strength, she pushed against his chest and threw him off balance, turning her face away as she gasped for air and tried to wriggle out from under him.

  "What'd I tell you?" Walker sneered, stabbing the knife into the soil near her head, then roughly took her face in his hand and settled his mouth atop hers in a violent kiss.

  Lillian gagged and bit his lip until she tasted blood. He reared back with a snarl and backhanded her. Stars flashed before her eyes as his hands pawed at her bodice and ripped the fragile fabric.

  When she continued to fight him, he slammed his fist into the side of her face, splitting the delicate skin of her cheek and dazing her, but still, she tried to fight against his hold on her.

  "I'll knock you clean out if I have to. This is gonna happen whether you want it or not," Walker snapped, hitting her again. Her lip split and she tasted blood.

  Lillian clawed at his skin with her bound hands, grunting in
satisfaction when he reared back in pain.

  He wrapped his fingers around her throat and pressed. "I warned ya not to fight me!" He choked her until her body went slack in his grip, and in a terrified haze, lay senseless as he groped her bare chest, painfully squeezing tender flesh. A warm breeze caressed the skin he exposed when he lifted her skirt and petticoat and tore her pantalets from her quivering legs.

  "I warned ya!" he panted, grunting as he began undoing the fly to his trousers.

  She stared dazedly at the dark woods around her, the world spun as she laid there, her body sluggish, consumed with pain, and unable to obey her demand to fight him. The rock behind her shoulder blade gouged her flesh, forbidding her to distance herself from the atrocity being committed to her body.

  When Walker finished, he rolled off her with a satisfied groan and stood adjusting his clothes. "Even if my man parts do fall off, you were worth it," He lewdly sneered. He raised his boot and kicked her, "Get up, you lazy sack of fluff."

  Lillian curled on her side, weeping as she pushed her skirts down to cover her nakedness. She curled her knees to her chest as pain coursed throughout her body from his savage mistreatment.

  Walker pulled her roughly to her feet when she didn't move on her own. Her vision wavered, and she fought for consciousness as her legs threatened to collapse. This couldn't be real life; it had to be a nightmare.

  "I'll let you know in the morning whether or not I'm whole." Walker leered at her, pulling her face close to his and ground his foul mouth against her bruised lips.

  After breaking the kiss, he pulled back and grinned, "Better yet, I'll give you another demonstration of my skills tomorrow night; and the next, and any night I damn well want, just to prove what a liar you are." He cackled, grabbing her neck to drag her back to camp.

  The longer Lillian traveled with the outlaws, time blurred into a haze of terrorized nights and violence-filled days. As they were crossing through Arkansas, Willis, who'd been acting as a scout for the group, raced back shouting he'd come upon a Sheriff and posse aiming to murder them all.

  Gunshots quickly followed his announcement, killing four men and two women before, Hank rushed Lillian and the rest to 'safety.' That night, five more men tried to desert, but Walker shot them dead less than a hundred feet from camp.

  Three days later, their band was down to Walker, his brother Hank, Willis, Lillian, and Beth, the only other woman who'd managed to survive the journey so far. However, it all changed when they stumbled upon a Marshal a few miles down the road.

  He seemed to be just as surprised as they were, but he recovered much faster and managed to kill Hank and Willis, and wound Walker before either one was able to retrieve their gun. The Marshal discharged another round just as Walker aimed and fired.

  Lillian covered a sob as the Marshal slumped forward and slid off his horse, dead. She turned her attention to Walker, hoping any second now his wounds would prove fatal and prayed he'd die a painful death, but her prayer went unanswered. Walker groaned and straightened then tugged the rope leading her and Beth's horse, and continued on the trail acting as if nothing had happened.

  It was as though the heavens opened just long enough to take an accounting of what she'd become; and then, judging her unfit had closed its doors to her once more. She had never been as hopeless in her life as she was at that moment. Death would be her only avenue of escape now.

  Hours later, Lillian watched in hopeful disbelief as Walker's slumped body slid sideways on his mount, and the rope leading to the horse she and Beth rode, fell unnoticed from his grip.

  Chapter Two

  Walker hit the ground with a hard thud, moaning in pain, but didn't move. Lillian scrambled from the horse they'd been riding and ran to Walker, kneeling to place a hand to his throat, "He isn't dead," she panicked, awkwardly removing his knife as Beth hurried over to her.

  They cut the ropes binding each other's wrists and rummaged through his pockets, grabbing what little money he had, his compass and the map she'd seen him and Hank peruse periodically along the trail. Beth reached and removed his pistol, cocking the hammer and aiming it at him.

  Lillian looked up at Beth gasping, "What are you doing Beth?"

  Beth turned fierce eyes on her, "I'm going to kill him, finish what that Marshal started."

  Lillian stood and placed her hand over Beth's death grip on the pistol. "You're not a murderer. He's dead as it is with all the blood he's lost. If we shoot him now, we're no better than he is."

  Beth stared at her in angered shock. "After what he's done, to both of us—the people he killed without a second thought! I can't believe-"

  "It would be cold-blooded murder, and I refuse to stoop to his level of barbarism by taking his life when he's unconscious and dying," Lillian hoarsely whispered, refusing to give in to the hatred seething within her as she gazed on the loathsome man.

  What would become of her if she gave in to the desire to kill him? It would darken and stain her soul beyond repair. She would be handing him victory, and that was something she would never allow him to have from her.

  "I'm not like you Lily," Beth apologized as she squeezed the trigger, then grabbed Lillian's hand, and began running.

  Three weeks later, they were starving and weary, but they'd finally made it into Montana, just miles away from their destination when they came to a raging river. Lillian shrunk back, terrified they'd come this far and survived so much only to drown to death. "We have to find another way, Beth."

  "There isn't one. We have to cross it."

  Lillian shook her head, "I can't do it."

  "Hold my hand, Lily," Beth said, grabbing her hand tightly as she waded into the river. "It doesn't look too wide here, even if we let it carry us down a bit, we should make it across-"

  Lillian watched in horror as the water plucked Beth's legs out from under her and ripped her fingers from Lillian's grasp with such great force it pulled her off balance.

  The water rushed over her head and carried her into the fast-moving current. Lillian broke the surface, gasping for air and choking on water. Frantically, she called for Beth, spitting out the water that filled her mouth as the river swept her downstream.

  Something heavy slammed into her from behind, knocking the wind out of her as it pushed her underwater. Intense pain followed when her head slammed into a jagged boulder buried in the riverbed.

  Dazed and helpless, Lillian fought for air, gasping as she broke through the surface before the current dragged her under once again. Rushing water spit her to the surface just as a large tree barreled down the river straight at her.

  In stunned terror, fighting for consciousness as the pain in her head grew, she raised tired arms in front of her. A gurgled scream escaped her when the force of the blow snapped the bones in her left arm.

  Suddenly she came to an abrupt stop, the rushing water nearly drowning her as she fought against the tree limbs that grasped her, offering safety even as they threatened to aid in drowning her.

  Weeping from the agonizing pain coursing through her body and the terror of her situation, she gripped the tree frantically and pulled herself along its length to the shore where its large root base rested.

  She crumpled on the rocky surface of the river's edge; the water licked gently at her toes as though it offered an apology for its rough treatment of her just moments ago.

  Lillian tried crawling further onto the shore but collapsed in exhausted misery a foot away from the water. Pebbles pressed into her wounded cheek as she lost the fight to stay conscious.

  When she awoke with a throbbing head and blurry vision, it was dark. The only sounds to greet her became the rushing of the river and the chirp of crickets from nearby bushes and trees scattered along the bank.

  Carefully, and with unsteady legs, she moved away from the river until she found a soft place to rest among the tall grass. Lillian removed what was left of her ruined gown, weeping from the pain the motion brought to her damaged arm and the loss of Beth.
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  Wiping the blood from her face and eyes, she bundled the ragged material of her dress and placed it under her head as a pillow, closing her eyes and praying for the pain to end. Her last thought as she drifted off into a fitful slumber was that death would be welcome.

  The sun moved slowly over the top of the nearby mountains, painting the area in its warm glow. A relentless burning sensation slithered over Lillian's body as the morning light grew in its intensity.

  Opening feverish eyes, she tried to focus on the area around her. Blood slowly dripped down her forehead, blurring her vision. Pain engulfed her body. Gravel pressed painfully against her cheek, reminding her of the split and bruised skin there.

  The sharp metallic scent of the river lapping at the rocks only feet away from where she lay filled her mouth and nose. Where was she and how had she gotten there?

  Her tattered and torn dress that she'd removed after nearly drowning and making her way to shore, was pushed aside; even though she could remember trying to use it for a pillow—a pitiful attempt, as it was nothing except threadbare rags.

  Slowly, she pushed herself up to a sitting position, waiting for the waves of nausea and dizziness to pass before struggling to her aching, raw feet. Somehow, she'd lost her shoes; but it didn't matter, the only thought that made any sense was getting somewhere safe, where someone would find her.

  Knowing she'd more than likely be dead by the end of the day, she summoned what little strength remained to propel her bruised and battered body across the rough terrain, moving away from the swollen river.

  Clutching her broken and useless arm, she blinked as blood continued to flow into her eyes and then down her chest, soaking her torn camisole. Flashes of the terror she'd experienced while in the river's slippery embrace the day before, tormented her in her delirium. She had tried to save Beth; although her attempt proved disastrous.

  Why had she believed coming west would be a good decision? Her clouded mind struggled to think. She should have stayed, tried to make a new life for herself—regardless of having no one who cared when she suddenly left.