At the midday meal Addison stood by the messroom door. Tim tried to see the room through the eyes of a guard. Two men might not be missed tonight. He took a sip of water from his tin cup and bent low over his corncakes and sorghum molasses.
Mills was just behind Dawson as the column moved upstairs. When they reached the landing Dawson leaned toward Addison and said a few words. Addison mumbled a reply.
When Addison started back downstairs Tim averted his eyes until he heard the clang of the lower door.
When he looked up again Mills had grasped the front of Dawson’s blouse. He swung the man around and knocked him against the wall with a sickening sound. Mills had always been a gentle man. This action took everyone by surprise. The other men gaped while Mills slapped a hand over Dawson’s mouth. “Why did you ask to see Senn?”
Dawson’s eyes bugged out as they fixed on Mills.
Mills signaled with his head for Tim and Red to move in close, and dragged the man through the common-room door. Dawson let out a little scream as Mill’s hand slipped away from his mouth for a second. Mills shoved him into a corner.
Tim and Frazer moved with Red and Allen to the center of the room. The others stood outside the door.
Frazer brought out a knife that no one had ever known he had—a wicked thing with a gleaming, pointed blade. Dawson twitched like a headless chicken on a chopping block.
Mills held one hand behind Dawson’s neck and the other firmly over his mouth. Red looked quietly down at Dawson and shook his head sadly.
Tim kneeled. Dawson’s breath came in violent gasps. “Dawson,” Tim said, “Peter will take his hand away now and you won’t cry out. Do you understand?”