"Out in the Sandhills" an excerpt from the novella by Dallas Reese

Murder in Jefferson

Bare sticks & dry leaves, left over from a long fall & warm winter, crunched under the feet of Abb Kirkley as he walked at a brisk pace through the Carolina backcountry woods. Spring seemed to be nowhere near. Normally on a Monday near the Ides of March, Kirkley wouldn't be this far from home, but a sick neighbor needed his help and Kirkley would never neglect those in need of assistance. He was a helping sort of man. A White Plains Baptist Church upbringing taught compassion for all. Kirkley was five miles below Jefferson with no light and a ways to go, a normally lonely walk. Or was it? Suddenly up ahead through the tall as the sky pines Kirkley saw a flashing light. He contemplated not investigating, but then without further hesitation rushed forward to see what the commotion was. As Kirkley got closer he heard a woman's screams. In horror he pushed back the thick brush and saw a woman on fire, screaming for her life. The clothes of Cassie Boan had been giving off a gleaming light in an otherwise pitch black night. Kirkley could not imagine why there was what appeared to be an unwilling human torch in the middle of nowhere. It was at least a mile to the nearest house. And as dry as it had been if he didn't do something fast this entire county was gonna go up in flames.

Kirkley knew Cassie Boan and her family well. Boan was 20 years old, as beautiful as any girl who ever set foot in Chesterfield County, South Carolina. She could tame a horse as easily as a man and knew her way around a barn, a field, a kitchen and a heart. Her daddy George Boan was from Indian & Welsh stock. A strong level headed man with all the sensibilities needed to get along in this life. Cassie's grandmother Polly Demby had married into the Indian family of Achilles Boan and disappointed her stauchly Methodist parents George and Celia Demby. George and Celia figured no one should marry outside their race or religion. To George Demby's thinking, those Indians didn't believe in the triune God, rather some made up spirits they kept talking about. The Demby's wanted Polly to marry a good Methodist Welsh man like the stock from wence they came. But it wasn't to be. And it was a great combination for Cassie Boan because she got the best qualities of her Indian/Welsh father and Indian Grandfather and Welsh Grandmother. Problem was she was attracted to men, and they were attracted to her. An unquenchable thirst that would never be sated in this life. And even worse than having an unquenchable thirst, Cassie didn't have a lucky streak in her genes. In fact she wasn't going to live long enough to share her family stock, intelligence and attractiveness with the rest of the world. The world would be worse off because she wouldn't see the summer. Jealous men lay in wait to end her innocence before the bloom of spring.

The flames crackled loudly as the dry wood and human flesh burned simultaneously. Kirkley turned his head swiftly and his eyes darted around searching for anything to use to stop this conflagration. He immediately knew he had walked in on an attempted murder or what could turn out to be a murder. How in the world did what appeared to be one Cassie Boan get out here and who had done this to her? And who could be lurking who might want to do him harm as well? Those thoughts would have to wait. Right now Kirkley had to help this girl. Suddenly from out of nowhere John Jackson burst forth from behind a tree. "What happened here?" Startled, Kirkley jumped back ready to kill a man he already didn't like. "I don't know but we've got to help this girl" Kirkley lunged towards Jackson and in return Jackson screamed in terror, like he'd done nothing wrong. "Whoa, I didn't have a damn thing to do with this, so don't go acting like you wanna kill an innocent man Kirkley." I was a kissing Cassie yesterday but had not seen her today. I can't believe the poor girl is a burning" Kirkley glared at Jackson like he was crazy. It was a great act. Worthy of a Shakespeare tragedy. Kirkley saw through Jackson's feigned innocence immediately, but quickly turned his attention to the screams of the girl. Jackson interrupted as if Cassie Boan wasn't burning to death in front of their eyes. "Oh lord protect her. What has happened? " Jackson wailed loudly and began to attempt a good cry as if he was Romeo contemplating suicide upon the death of his Juliet. "Oh Cassie what have you gone and done? Why did you do this to yourself? I cannot live without you dear girl. " But Kirkley knew the flame of this urgent coupling burned hottest against Cassie Boan no matter how much the apparently lovesick Jackson wailed in anguish. Kirkley had seen enough of John Jackson to know he was an evil violent man who held no compassion in his heart. And if burned, he was liable to burn back. Only this time it was for real. Kirkley mused, "Any love Jackson pretended to have for any woman was lust born from rejection." Kirkley had already written this story in his head before knowing the real details. "Cassie rejected Jackson's advances. I'll bet he decided to torture her when she wouldn't be with him, " thought Kirkley. Kirkley knew Cassie Boan didn't really care much for John Jackson except for maybe a fling with his large frame and perfectly cut body. He had no other traits that would attract a woman of beauty and brains. Certainly not for a long term. He was lazy and no count. And Jackson's show of fake empathy in the here and now may as well be a noose around his neck. Jackson was guilty in Kirkley's mind already. Kirkley approached the burning body of Boan but couldn't get close enough because of the intense heat. After 20 more seconds of watching the terror Kirkley ripped off his shirt and dove in anyway, as he started patting what was left of the girl in hopes of dousing the flames. He first extinguished the flames near Cassie emanating from sticks of wood placed around the girl. Then he reached out towards the burning Boan and tensely but gently patted out the final flickering flames. As he attempted to pat Cassie's arms, a slab of smoldering skin slithered off the once beautiful body into Kirkley's hands, It looked exactly like a fried piece of oozing hot, freshly peeled potato skin. Kirkley tried to contain the nausea as he fought back a full on retching.

The combination of the stench, smoke and shock took hold of Kirkley's nose, lungs and eyes. As the smoke cleared Kirkley was doubly horrified. Every particle of clothing on the girl's body had been completely burned. She had sustained gruesome injuries to her torso and legs. The smell was enough to bring a dead man back to life. Kirkley coughed and heaved. The gates opened, his insides were coming out.

As he collected himself, Kirkley muttered, "This was an act of torture by more than one dastardly fiend. One man could have not inflicted this much torture on one woman." Kirkley knelt beside Cassie Boan and observed profuse bleeding from what appeared to be wounds in every part of her body. As Kirkley held her closer he listened to her increasingly shallow breaths. He tried to plug the bleeding holes in her body with his smoke filled shirt. He whispered to calm her. Suddenly Boan cried out in agony, begging for mercy, exemplifying a sort of pain from a terror no human should ever have to endure. "Help me Jesus, take me" she cried. Kirkley pressed her closer begging, "Who did this to you? " Boan couldn't respond as unconsciousness rendered her lips silent. Cassie Boan's body and legs had been gashed with knives. There appeared to be five large cuts from four to twelve inches each. Not deep enough to kill, but these cuts used as a device of torture to inflict maximum pain and slow bleeding. This was a despicable lynching. Abb Kirkley had seen this same technique used on former slaves. It was evil incarnate and this girl was going to die if he didn't get help fast. "Why in the hell was John Jackson out here in the middle of nowhere? Kirkley whispered angrily to himself, "Jackson committed this crime. He ain't nothing but a hot headed jealous jughead with a pea brain incapable of reason. I know he wanted his way with this girl and she wasn't having it. The question is who helped him? That lusting lug head surely couldn't have thought of this torture himself."

Kirkley got his answer quicker than he counted. Out from behind another stand of pines came marching James Jackson and one Thomas Steen. "What's all the commotion here?" yelled Steen. The agitated John Jackson exhorted, "shut your faces and go fetch a cart to take this injured girl to a doctor in Jefferson. She's not long for this world if we don't get her help " Without speaking or hesitation, Steen and John Jackson's younger brother, James Jackson turned and ran to obtain a cart. In the meantime Kirkley knew he was in a dangerous spot. Jackson could turn on him at any minute and kill him for coming upon this gruesome discovery. Kirkley decided to stay with Boan. "Jackson go get some torches from the Munn house down the road. We need to light the way when we carry this girl to a doctor." Without speaking, Jackson complied. Kirkley was now alone with a half dead girl who didn't deserve to die like this.

Several hours later Steen and the two Jackson brothers returned with a cart. Abb Kirkley was still holding the once perfect and now apparently lifeless body of Cassie Boan. Help or a mirage of it was here. But was it too little, too late? The fiends, with their knives and flames had done some dirty work on this young girl. Yet here these dastardly devils were, dirty and sweaty from running to get help, harboring no guilt and acting the part of saviors. A careful ruse, thought Kirkley. But why? Why? That's the big question. At the current moment it looked as if nothing help save this beautiful creature. Cassie Boan lingered, seemingly grasping for a life which would surely slip away. But for how long? Could she recover from this attack? Would it be an attempted murder or an outright murder? "No matter," Kirkley whispered under his breath. Somebody is gonna pay for this injustice. "These kinda things just don't happen in Jefferson. We love Jesus and Jesus loves us. And murderers ain't from around here. This is the work of the devil. He musta snuck in overnight and took over these boys' minds. I ain't got no doubt, The Jacksons and Steen are responsible for this tragedy. But Steen, why he's descended from that legendary Revolutionary War Colonel James Steen. I thought that family was full of honor and glory. Since when did they stoop to murder and deceit? I'm stumped and I declare I ain't seen nothing like this and probably never will. But it's here and now and I ain't got time to catalog all the ways these boys is worthless. They ain't of my blood and family. Legend or not, they sure as cotton ain't Jefferson. Because Jefferson is joy. And there ain't no jubilation gonna come out of this this until a noose is around the necks of the Jacksons and Steen.

In fact, if I had my .38 with me I'd finish it off right here and now. Line 'um up in a row and put a bullet through the heads of John Jackson, James Jackson and Tom Steen. I'd look at their dead bodies, not feel an ounce of remorse and ask or answer no questions. Then I'd walk away." Kirkley muttered to himself. It was obvious Kirkley didn't like any of them. They were all worthless, no count, and lazy wastes of air. At least in Kirkley's mind. And now this. Regardless of how he felt in his head, Kirkley's better nature and belief in Jesus wouldn't let him do what needed to be done. So he'd wait.