“They dragged your body into the courtyard and tossed it into the air on their bayonets,” said Crockett. Shuddering, he stared directly into the fire. “The soldiers mutilated your corpse pretty bad. Did the same with several of the others. It was pretty gruesome stuff. I saw the whole thing.”
“You saw it?” said Bowie, amazed. “Then you didn’t die when the Mexe’s overran the fort.”
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“Nope. Me and three others surrendered once we saw things were hopeless. It seemed the best thing to do.”
“But all the history books say you perished at the Alamo,” interrupted Bill Mason.
“Goes to show you can’t believe everything you read,” said Crockett with a faint smile. Then his features turned grim. “For all practical purposes, I died there. Santy Anna wasn’t in a forgiving mood that day. His men murdered us quick enough.”
“What?” exclaimed Bill. “Why?”
“Before they attacked, the General told his soldiers, ‘No prisoners.’ He meant what he said. So when we were brought before him, Santy Anna didn’t even look up. He just repeated his command. Damned Mex troopers bayoneted us right there. With my dyin’ breath, I swore I’d get even with that coldhearted bastard. And ever since Resurrection Day, I’ve been a-huntin’ for him.”
“What do you plan to do if you find him?” asked Mason. “The logistics of this place takes a lot of the sting out of revenge. Kill a man, and he’s reborn elsewhere. Cut oflF his hand and it grows back.”
“I’ve got me some ideas about that,” said Crockett, his teeth flashing in a nasty grin. “Locating the General is the problem. Hell of a lot of people living on this River.”
“All of mankind up to around the year two thousand,” said Bill Mason. “At least, that’s what some people claim. Thirty or forty billion, give or take a few.”
“Bigger numbers than I can handle,” said Crockett. “Still, I’m a patient man. If it takes a thousand years of searching, I’ll find him. That’s a promise.”
“Why bother?” asked Bowie, a bitter edge to his
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voice. “Bill’s right. Revenge don’t mean much anymore. It ain’t worth the trouble.”
Crockett sighed deeply and shook his head. “That don’t sound like the Jim Bowie I knew. Folks said he killt six, seven men in duels back in Louisiana before heading west. Same man believed in rightin’ wrongs and makin’ the guilty pay for their misdeeds. He never worried whether they was headin’ to heaven or hell. Or if it was too much trouble.”
Bowie shrugged. “Life is different now. The edge is gone. First time around, life meant something, ’cause you knew death lurked in the background. It kept you on your toes, if you catch my drift. I’m not complaining, but this sure ain’t what I expected from the great Hereafter. Damned place is boring.”
“Is the problem with this world?” asked Socrates unexpectedly, “or perhaps with ourselves?”
“Huh?” said Bowie, scowling. “What do you mean by that?”
“Are you a man who makes things happen?” replied the philosopher, “or one who is satisfied to sit back and let events and circumstances manipulate him?”
Bowie hesitated, pondering his reply. “I always thought of myself as master of my own destiny,” he finally stated. “No one ever told Jim Bowie what he could or couldn’t do.”
“Yet you find yourself bored on this world of endless opportunity,” said Socrates with a mere glimmer of sarcasm in his voice. “How very strange.”
“Endless opportunity?” repeated Isaac, catching them all by surprise. It was the first time anyone could remember the mystery man speaking other than in answer to a direct question. “I don’t understand.”
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“For what reason has all mankind been re-created on this great River?” asked Socrates, his eyes glowing with excitement. “To strive toward perfection as we are told by the disciples of the Church of the Second Chance? A noble goal, but one I suspect out of the reach of most of us.
“Or are we here to finish that which we left undone when we died? Can any of us truly say that we perished with all of our dreams, our goals, our ambitions satisfied? Who among us has not some business left unfinished? Perhaps Crockett’s quest for vengeance is not the most noble of enterprises, but it gives his life purpose.”
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