Schenectady Massacre of 1690
Alex looked down and was silent. What was he thinking? The previous night, he’d mentioned he’d been shot. What was that like?
Something small hit Janie’s left shoulder, shoving her until she hit the back of the seat. She barely had time to register the pain before something else hit a few inches below the first blow. Her breathing came in rapid gasps. Her heart tried to speed up, but was a ball with a leak and didn’t have the necessary energy. She closed her eyes.
Fire, lots of it. She’s surrounded by it. All her friends’ houses are burning. The screams are horrible. People screaming looking for children and husbands. The soul shattering scream of people dying.
Janie covered her ears and thrashed her head.
Have to escape, but to where? Soldiers are everywhere. Soldiers and Indians. Running children are scooped up and tossed into the fire. Men and women shaking with fear and the bitter cold are scalped. Indians proudly hold up their bloody prizes.
Janie tried to stand up, but hands held her down.
“Dr. O’Malley,” a voice called.
But she’s not a doctor. The doctor is probably dead. What’s going to happen to them?
“Dr. O’Malley.” The voice was louder.
A foot steps on her hand. Cold metal presses against her head. A musket.
“Dr. O’Malley! Janet!”
“People call her Janie,” a small voice said.
She must escape to that voice. The POW of the musket erases all other sound. Her ears ring and time slows down. The ball hits her head and splinters her skull. It penetrates her brain and blood pours out the hole. Someone shakes her.
“JANIE! You’re safe. Janie, you’re safe.”
Slowly Janie opened her eyes. Alex’s hands held her shoulders, right where she’d been shot.
She’s hadn’t been shot.
What should she do?
What could she do?
Crying didn’t seem he right action, but that’s all she wanted to do.
“I’m okay,” she lied. She turned her head, so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with Alex who was kneeling in front of her.
“Not this time you don’t.” Alex removed his hands and sat next to her. “What did you hear?”
“Nothing.” Janie bit her lower lip. When had Alex moved into the back seat? When did the van stop?
“That wasn’t nothing,” Amanda said. “I wish Jessie was here. She’d know what to do.”
Alex glared at Amanda. She recoiled and sank down in her seat. With a jerk of his head, he motioned for Lisa to join her.
“Can we please not talk about this?” Janie pleaded.
“Janie,” he said gently. “Do you mind if I call you that?”
“As long as we don’t talk about what just happened.” She forced a weak smile.
“How about a compromise? We don’t have to talk about it now. You don’t even have to talk about it to me, but you have to promise you will tell someone about what’s going on.” He gently squeezed her hand.
“I promise,” she lied.
Alex’s smile warmed the van. How could she lie to a man with that smile?
How could she not?
Janie's Past Lives