Ryan was feeling tired, his eyelids drooping. “Best decide just where we’re going and what we’re doing.”
“A time out of war,” Doc pronounced. “A time to rest and a time to take it easy. A time for eating and sleeping. A time without fighting. Ah, me! But it has been a perniciously long time since we spent any time together without death and destruction dogging our steps.”
“True enough,” Ryan agreed. “I guess there’s no reason why we shouldn’t just cruise down for a day or so. Where would we end up, J.B.? Memphis?”
“Hell, no. Memphis is a ways west of here.”
“How far?”
“Hundred miles. One-twenty.”
“What’s the biggest old ville we come to if we carry on down the Tennessee?” Krysty asked.
Jak returned with a pile of dry wood, dropping it with a clatter by the side of the fire, putting a few branches on to keep the flames burning brightly.
“What talking about?”
“Where we get to if we keep going south along the river,” Ryan said.
“Savannah,” J.B. offered.
“That’s in Georgia,” Mildred corrected. “That’s not what you mean, is it, John?”
Doc interrupted. “John Barrymore is right as ever, Dr. Wyeth. Where are all your memories of the great War Between the States? Your historical education was obviously somewhat lacking in this area.”
“Gone to flowers, every one,” she replied. “What happened at Savannah, Tennessee, then?”
J.B. spoke again. “Shiloh. Bloody Shiloh. Only about ten miles away from Savannah.” His eyes sparkled behind his glasses. “Dark night! We went close there with Trader, but I never visited the battlefield. If it still exists. That would be a wonderful thing to do.”
“How far from here?” Ryan asked.
The Armorer shook his head. “Depends on the goosenecks of the river. Twists and turns. I’d hazard a guess it’ll be around eighty to a hundred miles. Speed the water’s flowing, that wouldn’t take us more than a day’s plain sailing.”
“I would be interested to see Shiloh,” Doc admitted. “This is such fun, my friends. My good, good friends. A boating holiday. Hurrah!”
SINCE THEY DIDN’T SEEM to be any threat, Ryan agreed that it wasn’t necessary to post a guard. He believed Trader’s theory that everyone needed sleep and to suffer deprivation was like having a battery depleted. The more you could store away, the better it was for any bad days that might be around the corner. So an early night sounded like a good idea for all of them.
His own wound was pulling painfully, and Mildred confirmed that he was running a slight fever.
“Maybe I should’ve stitched it for you,” she said doubtfully. “But both entrance and exit wounds were nice and neat. No deformation of the ball.”
Ryan shuddered. “Being stitched is high on the list of things I fucking hate, Mildred.”
“Then you shouldn’t go around getting yourself knifed and shot, should you?”
He grinned. “Guess not.” He paused for a moment. “And I appreciate what you’ve done for me. Cleaning it and bandaging it and all.”
“Part of the job.” She laughed. “How pompous and stupe that sounds. Sort of thing I’d probably have said when I was in my late twenties. Before the operation and the the freezing. Part of the job I’ll be telling you all about my Hippocratic oath next.”
A white egret, with a wingspread of at least a dozen feet, flapped low over the moored raft, diverting its course slightly at the sight of the fire, floating elegantly above them like a snowy ghost.
“I think I’m ready for bed,” Ryan said.
“On land or on the raft, lover?”
“Land’s a sight softer. Those logs have already worn some bare patches off of my skin.”
“Keep the fire going?” Jak asked. “Can go get some more wood.” The teenager stood, gasping and pressing both hands to his midriff at the sudden pain.
“You all right, Jak?” Mildred moved J.B. off her lap and went toward the albino.
“Yeah. Just sharp.”
“I checked and I’m fairly certain that there’s no fractures to the ribs. Might easily have damaged the intercoastal cartilage, I suppose.”
“Be fine,” he insisted.
“Pile the wood on the fire and then let it go down,” Ryan said. “Seems a safe enough campsite to me.”