WTSS Chapter 12
Early September 1862
Two-day ride northwest of Richmond, Virginia
The sun had barely topped the rosy eastern horizon when the exhausted Confederate cavalrymen resumed their escort of two gray-coat deserters along the rain-rutted roads to Richmond. The fierce storm that had blown through during the middle of the night had damaged many of the tents where they made camp, leaving debris scattered throughout the rolling Virginia countryside.
Despite the damage around them, the rain-washed landscape looked fresh and bright as it bathed in the early morning sunshine, the sweet air filling their lungs while the birdsong met their ears.
"I appreciate you joining the escort on such short notice, Lieutenant Squires." Corporal Langford said as they maneuvered their mounts around several fallen branches from a copse of live oak trees. He glanced at the two unruly renegades riding horseback in front of him, each of their hands bound securely with iron shackles. His eyes bored into the back of the stockier man, the intentional rise in his voice was apparent as he continued in his thick southern drawl. "Never know when you'll need another gun when you're transportin' these unsavory types."
"My pleasure, sir! Lt. Squires replied in earnest. "I'd rather be out here ridin' in the open country any day of the week than be bored out of my gourd back at camp. Feels like everything we've done this summer has been nothin' but hurry up then wait."
Corporal Langford took off his cap and swiped his brow with the back of his glove, leaving a trail of dirt in its wake. "Yeah, I know what ya mean," he sighed, sitting higher in his saddle. He leaned forward to survey the mess across the road. "I tell ya, ridin' that storm out in those tents last night certainly wasn't any fun. I thought we was going to get blown all the way down to Mexico."
Lt. Squires's smile reached his eyes and he chuckled, "I'm sure I heard a few of those boys cryin' for their mamas at the worst of it." He shook his head at the memory. "Boy! The camp sure was a mess when we left this mornin'. It'll take at least two days to get it back in working order."
"Well, at least there'll be plenty of kindling for the camp this winter." Corporal Langford teased.
A hardy laugh escaped the younger Lieutenant. "Between me and you, that's partly why I volunteered to high-tail it out of there this morning."
The Corporal's brow raised in curiosity. "Oh? Why's that?"
"Just take a look at this." Lt. Squires extended his bandaged hand, the once-white cloth was now a stained yellow as it adhered to his open sores. He grimaced when he gave a slight yank to it, tearing his tender skin. He opened his palm as much as he dared, revealing the four oozing blisters. "The camp may be a mess, but I'd rather freeze to death this winter before Captain McCloud orders me to chop more wood. No sir!" he exclaimed. "Even my blisters have blisters!"
Corporal Langford laughed at the younger man's expense. "McCloud, huh? He's usually a pretty even-keeled kinda fella until you make him mad. I'm afraid to hear what you did to get on his bad side."
"I guess it's what I didn't do that got me into trouble." Lt. Squires gave a sheepish smile and explained. "I'd gotten a letter from my gal Betsy back in Leesburg. I don't read too good, and well, Captain McCloud was kind enough to sit with me and help get me through the letter. It was only the second one I'd gotten from her since I joined the outfit in the spring."
The young lieutenant's fingers wrapped tightly around the reins as he formulated his next words. "I've known Betsy for a spell now, even talked about gettin' hitched once I'd found me some steady work…," he bowed his head, eyes focused on the fresh stain of blood seeping through his bandaged hand. "...timin' just never seemed right with the war and all."
"My boy, when you get to be my age, you'll realize there ain't no such thing as perfect timin'," Corporal Langford pointed out.
The young lieutenant's eyes drifted to the corporal riding beside him and he nodded. "Believe me, I found that out the hard way," he sighed. "Betsy had written that both her ma and brother passed on from the fever a couple of months ago… said her pa's been havin' a real hard time runnin' the farm by himself with most of his men leavin' to go off and fight." He swallowed. "Now Betsy's pa's fixin' to marry her off to Alonzo James in some type of business 'rangement."
"Alonzo James, huh?"
The lieutenant nodded. "My best friend."
Corporal Langford gave off a low whistle. "That's a tough one to swallow. I'm sorry to hear that, son. Really, I am." The older man paused for a beat then pointed at the young soldier's hands. "But that don't rightly explain how you got them blisters."
A subtle smile tugged at the corner of the lieutenant's mouth. "I was under a bad spell for a couple of days. I wasn't much use to no one in the regiment 'cause I couldn't manage to get my mind off Betsy and home. I couldn't eat. Didn't sleep a wink," he said, letting out a hard breath. "Captain McCloud was kind enough to let me wallow around in my own pity for a day or two…" Shrugging his shoulders, he gave a sheepish smile. "...but I guess it was my last straw when I punched my tent mate square in the kisser for snorin' too loud. Next thing I knew, McCloud grabbed me by my collar, walked me into the woods, and placed that infernal axe in my hand. Told me there was 'one surefire way to stop me from frettin'."
The corporal let out a hearty laugh. "Nothing like physical pain to get your mind off of a woman, huh?" Reaching over, he slapped the younger soldier's back. "Sounds like either McCloud is one smart man, or I reckon he's been down the road of frettin' a time or two himself."
Lt. Squires nodded, "I reckon he probably has." He glanced at the surrounding landscape, then turned his eyes toward the Corporal "And that's why I'll die a happy man if I never have to chop wood again."
Both soldiers continued in their mirth until a low gruff voice piped up ahead of them. "You know, lieutenant, it's a two-day ride to Richmond…" The stocky man paused, lifting u his shackled hands to scratch his scraggly beard. He smiled, glancing over at his gangly grey-coat counterpart, "...and a man can still die a hundred different ways 'tween now and then!"
"Shut it, Mason, or so help me…I'll hang the both of you right here myself!" shouted Corporal Langford.
Laughter and obscenities bellowed from the two renegades. The corporal sat back on his haunches as he urged his horse forward, the hair on the back of his neck rising as he gazed into the green contemptuous eyes of Auggie Mason.
"Hold up here! Whoa!" Private Walsh's voice called out from the front of the line. Raising his hand, he motioned for the corporal to come forward.
"Now what?" Langford murmured. "It'll take us a week to get down to Richmond at the rate we're goin'." His eyes traveled from the two deserters then back over to Lt. Squires. "Stay back here until I tell you otherwise and don't take your eyes off of them. I mean it. I'm going to ride up there to see why we stopped."
"Yes, sir!" Lt. Squires nodded his understanding.
The corporal spurred his horse to the front of the line. "What is it, Walsh?"
"The bridge is out at Fox Creek," the private said, studying a folded map in his hands. "It'll take longer, but we're going to have to head over to Black Canyon Flatts," he pointed to the east beyond the ravine. "We can make camp somewhere over there tonight."
Corporal Langford gazed into the far distance. Following the sun's path, the landscape gave way to rolling hills covered in trees. From their lofty vantage point, he could see for miles.
"Hey, corporal! How 'bout a drink!?" Mason grumbled behind him. "You wouldn't want Whitcomb and me to die of thirst before you take me to that hell hole you call a prison, would ya?"
Captain Langford turned, then shouted to Lt. Squires in the rear. "Give him a drink, then gag him, will ya?!"
Lt. Squires urged his horse forward then unhooked his canteen strap from the saddle horn. He lifted both his arms, carefully bringing the flask to Mason's lips.
The unkempt renegade leaned forward taking a long swig of the water, managing to discreetly slip his right hand free from its bindings. Mason's green eyes locked into Squires's blue ones and he smiled, carefully reaching to grip the butt of the lieutenant's holstered sidearm.
"Much obliged," Mason said, winking before he cocked the gun and fired. The bullet entered Lt. Squire's chest just above his heart, the cacophony echoing throughout the ravine below. The lieutenant's horse reared the young soldier backward and toward the ground, then took off running down the path it had just traveled.
The renegade cocked the gun, then fired again and again in rapid succession, killing Private Walsh with his deadly aim and wounding Corporal Langford in his right side.
Mason slid off his horse and walked over to stand over the Lt. Squires and green eyes met blue once again. "Like I said, lieutenant, a man can get himself killed, real easy."
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"Damn it!" Kid muttered as he attempted to work at the small desk in a sitting room that was in the house his regiment commandeered. His hands fumbled with the disassembled parts of his assigned firearm, his frustration mounting. He was lost in his thoughts when a knock at the door drew his attention.
"Excuse me, Captain McCloud?"
Kid glanced up to find one of his corporals standing in the doorway. "Come on in, Curtis."
"Thank you, Sir," he nodded. "I was wonderin' if you've seen Lieutenant Squires anywhere this morning?"
Kid held his pistol up to where the light shone through the dirty window, one eye closed tight while the other one looked down the short barrel. "He volunteered to be on detail with Corporal Langford. They're transportin' a couple of deserters, gonna meet up with the escort comin' up from Belle Isle."
"Sounds like a mighty big fuss for only two deserters." He pondered. "Hell, more men are runnin' away from this war every day, what makes them so special?"
Kid pointed with his thumb over his shoulder to the wall behind him where two coal sketches of the deserter's likenesses were both pinned. "These two men aren't only deserters, they're also charged with rape, murder, and theft." Kid shook his head as if to rid an evil thought. "Since they're Confederate soldiers and not civilians, they'll stand trial for their court-martial down at Belle Isle."
"Damn." Corporal Curtis muttered, pausing for a beat as he watched Kid fiddle with the gun. "Do you know when you'll expect Squires back?"
Kid shook his head. "No, but he left you a note." Without another word, Kid handed the corporal the folded piece of paper that was tucked under a book on his desk.
Corporal Curtis leaned on the edge of Kid's desk and scrutinized the note with a troubled expression, his eyes straining as he attempted to read the chicken scratch. "What does this say?"
Kid blew hard down the barrel of his pistol, then picked up a rag to polish the tarnished metal of the gun. "I was hopin' you could tell me!" He looked up at the corporal, a small smile crossing his weathered face. "It is English you're teachin' him, ain't it?"
The corporal laughed, shaking his head. "Well, yes, but…," he sighed, shaking his head. "...maybe I need to find a new approach."
Kid smiled until the bulk of his gun fell onto the desktop with a sudden clatter, the sound startling both men. He grasped his pinched finger and winced in pain.
"Is there a problem, captain?"
"Yes, there's a problem!" Kid's eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw ticking on their own volition. "The chamber won't align with the barrel." Kid grumbled, then continued. "I don't know how they expect us to make progress in this war if they keep giving us these pieces of…" Kid trailed off.
The corporal chuckled. "I'm sorry I asked!"
Annoyed with the intrusion, he glanced up at the man standing over him. "Was there something else you needed, Curtis? I'm kind of busy at the moment."
"Oh. Uh, yes, sir." Corporal Curtis blindly reached into the inner pocket of his uniform jacket and pulled out a wrinkled letter. "Mail call. This here came for you this mornin'"
Just then, a distinctive 'click' filled the room as the obtrusive chamber of Kid's gun slid into alignment with the adjacent barrel.
He smiled in satisfaction as he looked up at his corporal, then stood to reach across the desk to take the worn letter. Glancing down at the envelope, he recognized the swirling cursive writing and beamed. "It's from my wife, Louise. It's the first letter…," his words trailed off and he cleared his throat. "It's the first letter I've received from her since joinin' up four months ago."
"Well, I don't have to be told twice." Corporal Curtis gave a pointed look, then smiled and turned toward the door. " I'll step out and give you some space. Just let me know when Squires gets back, will ya?"
Kid nodded, his eyes never leaving the prized letter he held in his hands.
As the corporal's hand reached the knob, the door sprang open. "Captain! Captain!" A young private burst through the door, out of breath from his sprint from across the camp.
"What is it, private?" Exasperation pushed Kid's taut nerves to the edge. He slipped his wife's letter into the interior pocket of his uniform pocket, fastening the buttons all the way to the top as if to protect it. He slid his newly assembled gun back into its resting place on his hip, then stepped around the desk to stand next to the private and Corporal Curtis.
"Lieutenant Squire's horse just came gallopin' in from the south. There was no rider, sir… and there's blood all over the saddle."
Kid gave Corporal Curtis a sideways glance. They quickly followed the private out into the yard where a group of soldiers were holding the reins of Lt. Squires's chestnut mare. Kid swiped his hand across the bloodstained bedroll, his fingers slick with the red stickiness.
"Still wet." Kid murmured to Corporal Curtis. "I'll ride out along the trail and see if I find anything. They left at dawn. If I ride hard, it shouldn't take long to catch up to them."
"I'll go fetch one of the medics and have them ride with you. Langford and Squires could still be alive, they could need…"
"No." Kid was quick to interrupt. "There've been too many Union skirmishes that are less than a day's ride away, we can't spare any medics. Just inform Colonel Daniels of my whereabouts," Kid directed. "If I'm not back in a couple of hours, tell him to send a messenger down to the folks comin' from Belle Isle."
"Well then, I'm coming with you." Corporal Curtis stated, then continued at the look of Kid's uncertainty. "It could be an ambush, sir. You don't know what ya may be walkin' into. You'll need an extra gun."
Kid heaved a sigh. "Fine. Go over to the infirmary and see what supplies they can spare. We'll leave in five minutes."
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Kid squinted in the late morning sun and pushed his sandy curls off his forehead with the back of his glove. The two soldiers had traveled down the dirt path that weaved around thick trees and towering shrubs for nearly twenty-five minutes before the slight movement in the brush beside the path caught Kid's attention.
"Whoa!" Kid whispered, holding up a hand to get Corporal Curtis's attention. Both men eased off their mounts, brandishing their guns, and approached the object with caution.
A low guttural groan was heard within the tall grass in the clearing.
"It's Squires!" Corporal Curtis cried out. "He's alive."
"How bad is he?" Kid called out from several feet away.
Unbuttoning the lieutenant's uniform, Curtis inspected his wound. "He's lost a lot of blood. We need to get him back to camp."
"Private Walsh is dead and Langford is nowhere to be found." Kid said as he knelt beside the young private's body, his eyes scrutinizing the muddy imprints that headed back toward the main trail.
"The horses all scattered. The gunshots must have spooked them," he said, quietly. "There's three sets of prints. My guess is one of them's injured. They're headed east as far as I can tell," he said, eyes still gazing across the countryside. "I reckon they couldn't have gotten very far."
"You got all that by lookin' at mud?" The corporal asked, impressed.
Kid gave a faint smile as he patted Curtis's back. "That's why they call me captain and you corporal," he teased. "I tell you what, when this is all over with, I'll let you in on a few of my secrets. In the meantime, let's get Lt. Squires up onto your horse so you can ride back to camp."
"Where are you goin'? You can't go after those fellas alone! They'll..."
Kid cut the corporal off. "Squires needs medical attention back at camp. You said it yourself. I'm not sure if he's gonna pull through, but damn it…," his voice trailed off and he clenched his hands. "...he's a good kid and we're sure as hell gonna try!"
Sweat trickled down Kid's face as he took the reins of his horse and hoisted himself into the saddle. "Find Colonel Daniels, tell him the situation. With everything that's been goin' on lately, I suspect I'll be on my own from here on out." He continued. "I'm going to head further up the trail to track Mason and Whitcomb. With any luck, Langford is out there still alive." He glanced back at Corporal Curtis one final time. "You ride safe and take care of Squires, ya hear?"
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Further down the trail, the two renegades stood gazing out over a rocky embankment. Corporal Langford sat mere feet away, his back lay against a fallen log, his hands bound tightly with twine, his side bleeding from his gunshot wound.
"You know, corporal, that lieutenant back there was one lucky boy," Auggie Mason said, bending over to look the corporal in the eye, his voice low and gravelly. "He got to look into the face of the devil before he died."
Rummaging through Corporal Langford's uniform pockets, the renegade took hold of a few loose bills and rolled cigarettes. "Don't mind if I do." Striking the match on the heel of his boot, he lit the tip, cheeks puckering with each drag. He held it up as a gesture of thanks before blowing smoke into the corporal's face.
"Looks like this war has suited you just fine. Ya like killin', don't you, Mason?" The corporal said, his breath ragged and his throat thick.
"Ya got a problem with that, corporal?"
"No. I know you'll get what you deserve one of these days. The law will catch up to ya, they always do."
Hank Whitcomb walked the short distance to the fallen log, the twigs and debris from last night's storm crunching beneath his worn boots. He came to stand next to Corporal Langford, a confiscated knife outstretched in his hand.
"What are you doing?" Mason snapped, snatching the knife out of Whitcomb's hand.
"Cut him loose Auggie! We got to get out of here!"
"Nobody is going anywhere, now sit down!" Mason spat.
Whitcomb complied and joined his friend on the log. "Take it easy! He's no use to us. He'll probably bleed to death before nightfall anyway."
Mason took another long puff of the cigarette contemplating Whitcomb's words, then turned to face Corporal Langford. "Alright, fine," he said, taking the blade and slicing through the ropes like it were butter. He stabbed the knife hard into the fallen log behind him, then stood, taking another gander down the steep drop of the embankment.
The ailing corporal groaned as he rubbed his raw wrists and struggled to get to his feet. Mason turned after a long moment, cigarette smoke clouding the air around his head. "Well, what are you waiting for, corporal? Better get going before I change my mind."
Corporal Langford turned his back toward the surly soldier, his body slumped over in pain as he walked unsteadily down the beaten path. Flinching at the sound of the cocking of the gun behind him, his body froze, unable to react before Mason pulled the trigger.
The gunfire could be heard for miles as it echoed down the canyon walls and into the ravine below.
"Changed my mind," Mason said as the men's guffaws of laughter drifted in the breeze.
Kid was riding on the muddy trail nearby when he heard the blast of a single gunshot. Now he sat perched on a wooded rise, hidden from view as he observed the two deserters standing over the dead body of Corporal Langford. Taking inventory of each of the weapons they had managed to seize, he sat completely still for fear that any movement he made might be seen by the men he was watching. Though his muscles complained, a little discomfort was worth it if he could catch Mason and Whitcomb red-handed.
Watching the two men drag Langford's body to the brim of the embankment, he decided it was the time to make his presence known. "Drop your weapons!" Kid shouted, stepping out from behind the lush wooded overgrowth and onto the rocky terrain of the cliff's edge. "Raise your hands up nice and easy," he said, his right arm holding his pistol steadily out in front of him.
Both men hesitated but complied, each placing their stolen firearms onto the ground.
"Now get away from him." Kid demanded, motioning with his gun. He eyed the two renegade soldiers, watching as they slowly backed away from Langford's body.
"Hey, captain! You're out of line, ain't ya? We was just givin' this man a proper burial, that's all."
"You murdered." Kid's gaze narrowed on the stockier of the two men, his left hand clenched by his side as he slowly worked his way over to stand beside his fallen comrade, bending down to ensure there was no pulse in the soldier's neck.
"Murdered?!" Mason scoffed and pointed down to Langford's body. "Hey, that was self-defense! Caught him stealing our supplies." He protested.
"There's a young lieutenant back there who wants to return something you left with him." Kid throws a pair of handcuffs down at Mason's feet.
"The lieutenant's still alive?!" Whitcomb asked in disbelief, his eyes traveling back and forth between Kid and Auggie Mason.
"Shut up you idiot!" Mason spat.
"Put the cuffs on!" Kid shouted, his fury rising. "Now!"
The stocky older renegade gave a wicked smile, daring to take a step in Kid's direction. "You can't get both of us by yourself, captain."
Kid fired a warning shot at Mason's feet, the timbre of his voice held no warmth. "The next man that moves has the other one bury him."
Whitcomb's voice cried out, "I don't think so!" In one fluid movement, the tall Confederate soldier dropped to the ground, rolling so that his outstretched arm reached to grasp the firearm from the dirt.
Kid's instinct kicked in, and he responded in kind. His right arm extended out in front of him and with steady concentration, he aligned his gun with Hank Whitcomb's heart. He squeezed the trigger, firing at close range. What should have been an automatic blow to Whitcomb's body, quickly became a blinding fiery eruption as the ignition of the gunpowder from his pistol exploded and backfired in his face.
Kid screamed out in pain, his eyes and skin blistered from the black sooty discharge. His fingers released their hold on his gun and both of his hands flew up to cover his face. Losing his foothold, Kid stumbled backward.
.He felt himself suddenly airborne, catapulting over the embankment before slamming hard against the unforgiving earth. The momentum sent him careening downhill, with rocks and trees assailing his lumbering body as he fought valiantly to slow his descent. Just before he reached the ravine at the bottom, his mind blotted out the agonizing pain. His last conscious thought focused only on his dear wife, Lou, before his world faded to black.
Mason walked slowly over to the side of the cliff, carefully peering over the edge to see any signs of life from the Confederate captain. "Well, if that don't beat all." Laughing to himself, he struck another match on the side of his boot. He lit another cigarette and then started looking for a clear path that would lead to the ravine below.
"Hey! Where ya goin', Auggie?" Whitcomb asked, watching as the stockier man started to walk away.
"Goin' to get that captain."
"He's dead! Let's get outta here!"
Mason turned his face toward his bewildered friend. "And make the same mistake as we did with that lieutenant back there? I don't think so." He pointed to the ground near Whitcomb's feet. "Get those firearms and let's go. It's gonna be a long trek down to the bottom, but we're gonna make sure the captain will never be found again. Then, we'll start headin' west."
A/N: Hello! I'm finally gaining some traction again! I appreciate your patience as I trudge through writing. As always, I appreciate the feedback. You all have been too kind!
