Page 19

O n the heels of Ace’s exit, voices moved toward the thicket of trees we occupied. Sam hastily shoved General Lee’s coat in the knapsack Marco had left behind.

I picked up the discarded musket.

“They’re Rebels.” Sam shook his head and laid a hand across the barrel of the gun, causing me to lower the weapon.

When the men entered the thicket, they didn’t see us at first, hidden in the shadows of the trees. Five men, part of a company patrolling the woods. Two of the men favored each other, dark hair, sharp chins, and hawk noses. Brothers or cousins, I surmised.

“Did ye see that light?” One of them asked. “It’s them damn Yankees playin’ tricks on us.”

“Damn Yankees think we’re dumb as rocks, but we showed ’em,” one of the hawk-nosed soldiers said.

“We’ll show them again t’morrow.” The burly one spat a wad of chew.

“We’re goin’ to whip their tails as soon as Old Granny gives the orders.”

When they spotted me, they slapped a salute.

I returned the gesture, and they relaxed. “Sorry, Doc, didn’t see ya there,” one of the hawk nose said to me.

I cleared my throat. “Carry on, men,” I echoed the orders General Lee had issued to me earlier.

“Doc, you lost?” Burly guy asked.

“Uhm…naw, just waiting for sunset to tend the wounded. I’ll make my way safely back to camp after I’ve done all I can do here.”

“God bless you,” the other hawk nose said.

The men saluted again. I stared for a moment, realized I was to return the gesture in approval of their exit.

The men proceeded on their way, leaving me with the setting sun illuminating a crop of lifeless bodies among what used to be a golden field of wheat.

Gunfire boomed in the distance, and the sun’s final rays turned the sky a smoldering purple haze.

“What should I do about the general’s horse?” Sam asked me.

“Horse?”

“Well, yeah, General Lee always rides Traveller when he goes out in the field. He’s tied up yonder tree.” Sam pointed in the direction the good general had left his mount.

I needed to find Gertie, but I also needed to wait for young Caiyan to appear and follow him.

“I’ll watch over General Lee’s horse while I wait for—uhm, the general to return. Can you find the man that was with me earlier?”

“The soldier who hit me?”

“Uhm, yes, that one, and the woman who was with him. It’s important I know their whereabouts to ah…find General Lee.”

Sam, used to taking orders, straightened his shoulders and saluted. “I’ll return as soon as I have located the soldier, sir.” He waited.

I waved a salute, and he disappeared, leaving me alone for the first time since I had arrived in Gettysburg. Moans from the wounded echoed across the battlefield, and it gave me chills. There wasn’t a book I had read or a movie I had watched that truly captured the horrific reality of the Civil War.

As I waited in the shadows for the young Caiyan to appear, I settled myself. My mind rotated through the happenings of the past few hours. I had landed in the wrong spot at the tail end of a violent battle on top of a dead man, lost General Lee, saved a boy whom I shouldn’t have, and played a hand in Marco and Caiyan getting shot. My day had not been a productive one.

When I thought about Caiyan, my heart skipped a beat. I had faith in our doctors and in Eli. My brother wouldn’t be happy with me for telling the WTF he had skills and a key, but I hoped he would forgive me.

I only had twenty-four hours to find the seer. Caiyan didn’t leave me much to go on. First order of business was to prioritize my mission. One. Find Marco and Gertie. Two. Find a way home. Three. Find the seer. Four. Prevent Mortas from gaining the seer’s key.

This wasn’t the order in which a good WTF agent worked. Caiyan would find the seer first and prevent Mortas from harming her and taking her key. Friends would come last, no, scratch that, he wouldn’t have brought any friends with him.

Caiyan told me the seer didn’t exactly have her key, whatever that meant. Maybe another traveler was coming, and maybe that would be my ride home, or at least the traveler could take me to another time where I could summon Ace. There were a lot of maybes in my plan.

How was I going to find the seer in time? And there was the whole missing general problem. What would happen if General Lee wasn’t giving orders?

I needed to find Gertie. She was the only hope to keep this battle from becoming more of an unorganized mess without the leader of the Army of Northern Virginia.

Gertie knew every move of every officer in the entire battle. She could give the orders that Lee would have given.

One thing at a time, Jen. My inner voice hid her head under a blanket. I yanked it off. Not this time. I was on my own, and nothing would prevent me from keeping Mortas away from his prize.

I unlatched the key around my neck and tucked it inside a spare sock I’d found in my knapsack. I secured the key in an area not likely checked in a pat down.

For the moment, the key would offer some protection against dying of a gunshot wound, but the protection to prevent Caiyan from identifying me as a traveler, I feared, would be greater.

I’d need to keep my distance from him. Hopefully, he would lead me to the seer, and I wouldn’t mess up our lives together by interacting with him.

I hunkered down as the last light disappeared from the horizon and the symphony of cannons and guns played in the distance.

A haunting darkness crept through the hazy smoke. The full moonlight offered a ghostly illumination of the woods.

Occasionally, I would see soldiers patrolling them and medics retrieving the wounded. The spooky hallows and the smell of earth turned with the metallic scent of blood had my creep-o-meter off the charts. I rubbed my arms and hugged them around me, worried my goosebumps might be permanent.

After the haze settled, Caiyan had not appeared.

“Where are you?” I asked out loud. “You should have arrived by now.” I looked down at the blank sword. The words Caiyan damaged in Purley were missing. Then it hit me. It was me. I wrote the words on the sword.

I searched my medical bag. Inside I found a small kit containing a bottle of laudanum, scissors, gauze, needles—I shuddered—and a small scalpel.

Choosing the scalpel, I scratched the words into the steel blade. Find Victory at Gettysburg 1 st TX RW. I returned the unsheathed sword and scabbard next to Boon, made the sign of the cross, and retreated to my hidey-hole.

Leaning back against the hard rock, I waited and I prayed.

Shortly after I added my graffiti to the sword, a subtle flash followed by a sharp pop and a swift breeze filled the area around me with static electricity. Caiyan’s red phone booth appeared between two giant white oaks.

My heart sighed. It had been years since I had seen his vessel. After he traded his key to save me, he had been traveling in the Thunder key’s vessel, and then nothing. A wayward warrior lost without his armor and valiant steed.

Caiyan strode from the phone booth, this time dressed in Confederate grays. A confident gait to his step. He relaxed when he thought he was alone and sent his vessel away with the snap of his fingers.

I sat stone still in the shadows, half hidden by the thick vines from a nearby gooseberry bush.

He walked to the clearing where Boon lay dead.

I swallowed hard as he bent at one knee and surveyed the man. He reached in and checked his pulse. Then the surprising happened, a tear leaked down his cheek and he swiped it away with the sleeve of his jacket.

I had never seen him cry. Never. His concern over this man broke me, and I wiped away a tear of my own.

Caiyan’s head jerked up at my careless movement and he scanned the area. When his gaze passed over me, I let out a breath.

He sheathed the sword, stood, and attached it to his belt. He turned and left in the opposite direction. I moved to follow him.

Keeping to the shadows, I entered the path he took and watched my footing in the darkness as I moved slowly after him.

Not too far down the path, he pounced on me from behind. I gave a startled shriek, and he covered my mouth. His arms wrapped around me pressing me to his body. His other hand a deadly grasp on my throat. A flashback of the first time we met gave my heart a tug.

Thankful I had taken off my key and the heat between us could be blamed on the humid July weather and not our gift, I controlled my emotions and the heat lessened.

“Who are you?” he asked. A perfectly mastered southern drawl, husky and infectious, demanded more than asked in my ear. His scent made my lady parts tingle and I mentally counted to five.

“Answer me,” his grip around my throat tightened.

“I’m…I’m a doctor.” I said into his hand.

He removed his hand from my mouth.

“I’m a doctor.”

“Did you kill the man back yonder in the woods?”

“I did not. Now take your hands off me, Sergeant.” I’d seen his stripes, and I outranked him.

He released his grip, but not before he ran a hand across my collarbone, searching for a key. When he satisfied himself I didn’t wear the coveted jewelry, he stepped away from me.

I turned to face him, adjusting my coat in a display of feigned irritation. “How dare you assault an officer.”

“I apologize. Thought you might be the enemy.”

“Well, you can see for yourself I am not!”

“What do you know about the dead man in the clearing?”

“I know nothing. He was dead when I arrived, like the hundreds of other men scattered about.”

We stood staring at each other. Him deciding if I was legit, me avoiding his gaze, and grateful the moon provided shadows of anonymity.

A twig snapped and we turned toward the sound. Sam stepped into our space, lantern in hand.

“Doc, there you are,” he said, breathless. He saluted and started to speak, stopped when he saw Caiyan.

“Sam, this here’s,” I caught myself, and turned toward Caiyan. “What did you say your name was, soldier?”

“I didn’t.” Caiyan offered his hand to Sam. “Cal McGregor.”

Sam grabbed his hand and shook wholeheartedly. “Sam Raney.” Caiyan’s eyebrows shot upwards, unnoticed by the excited aid.

Sam turned toward me, “Dr. Seuss, I have retrieved the information you wanted.”

Damn.

Caiyan eyed me suspiciously.

“Call me Jeb, we’re all in this together.” I tipped my hat instead of offering my hand. Clearing my throat, “Good reconnaissance work, Sam. Important to know the locations of the wounded we’ll need to attend.”

“You came a long way today.” Sam directed the conversation toward Caiyan, acknowledging a patch on Caiyan’s sleeve. “I heard your division arrived only recently.”

“Rode in with a cavalry company, lost my horse. Skittish beast was frightened by the cannonade. Saw him come this direction and thought I’d pursue.” His accent was spot on, but Caiyan lowered his eyes. The tell of a liar, and a mistake the Caiyan I knew would never allow himself to make.

“Proud to meet you,” Sam said.

“Seem to be a bit turned around in these here parts.” Caiyan thickened his accent.

Do not roll your eyes. I commanded myself.

“Can you fellas point me toward the camp?”

Sam indicated the direction to the base camp.

“Will you be joining me there, after…” he paused and shifted toward the battlefield.”

“Yes,” I said. “We’ll make camp there tonight.”

“My pleasure meeting you, Doctor,” he dipped his chin toward Sam. “Private.” He flattened his hand over his right eyebrow and waited.

At my salute, he disappeared down the path Sam had indicated.

Stranded at a crossroads, I swallowed hard as I watched him walk away. I could follow Caiyan, warn him about the shooter who might have taken his life, and risk changing our destiny together. I could follow stealthily, and hope he led me to the seer, possibly save the key. Or, I could let him leave and find Gertie and Marco.

Superagent Jennifer Cloud should have followed Caiyan, but my friends’ safety meant more to me than the key, and I had Sam to consider. I made my choice, and my inner voice sobbed uncontrollably as I held my face steady and turned to hear the information Sam waited to share.

Sam led the way to the barn-turned-hospital where he’d found Gertie. Men lay in rows waiting to be seen by the handful of medical staff. Vivandières and temporary medics gave them water and offered comfort by way of threadbare blankets—some of which covered men completely, indicating they had lost their last battle.

The stench of death permeated the air and I stopped by a nearby tree to dry heave, until my nose became accustomed to the foul smell.

“Are you unwell, sir?” Sam handed me a handkerchief, oblivious to the wretched scent of war. He eyed me curiously.

I thanked him and mopped the drops of perspiration from my upper lip and brow.

“It’s funny how when you’re around an awful smell long enough, the foul odor becomes a normal fragrance to the air,” I said to him, recalling a particularly odoriferous patient who came into the chiropractic clinic. After being in the room with the patient for a time, the smell lessened, and the treatment proceeded like any other. The stench became air. It was only when I returned home, I noticed the smell lingering on my clothing.

“I suppose stepping into the woods, away for a moment, my senses forgot.” I hoped my philosophical ranting masked the peaked pallor I was sure my face reflected.

Sam seemed to agree with my sentiment.

I resumed my pace toward the barn. We walked past the rows of men. Empty, hopeless eyes watched us pass. Others called out for help. It was the reason I didn’t summon Eli to me. He would have come, and he wouldn’t have been able to turn his back on all the men he could save with his knowledge and power. Men meant to die.

Sam was called over by a wounded friend from his corps, and I took the opportunity to find Gertie.

I discovered her sitting on a rotten log catty-corner to the barn. Her body bent over her legs and her forehead rested on her arms crossed over her thighs.

An alarm pealed in my head. Did something happen to Marco?

“Gertie?” I asked as I approached her.

Her head flew up. “Jen, thank God!” She rose and embraced me.

“Jeb, remember?” I whispered in her ear as I hugged her.

“Right, Jeb,” she said, releasing me.

“Are you all right?”

She bobbed her head in an uncomfortable tempo.

“Where’s Marco?”

“He’s inside.” She jerked her thumb toward the barn. “On a filthy blanket, on the floor. I cleaned and bandaged his wound the best I could. The bossy-pants nurse made me come outside. He’s mean as a snake.”

“Why did he send you outside?” My concern for Marco escalated a notch. If they practiced nineteenth century medicine on Marco, he’d never forgive me for waiting on Caiyan instead of rescuing him.

Gertie fidgeted. “I passed out when they started to cut off the foot of an injured soldier. When I came to, they sent me outside. Said I didn’t have the fortitude for surgery.”

I encircled her shoulders with my arms and squeezed.

“It’s OK. You aren’t really a nurse you know.”

“I’d like to think I could play the part, but they’re whacking legs off without any pain medicine. A little whiskey is all the injured get—that, and a strip of leather to bite on.”

“Better than dying of gangrene,” I offered.

“I thank my lucky stars we live in the time of modern medicine.” She paused. “Did you find the general? Did Caiyan find the key? Can we go home now?”

I held up a hand to stop her onslaught of questions. “No, we haven’t found the key, and…” I couldn’t get the words out.

“And what?”

“Caiyan was shot…by the boy I saved.”

Gertie stood speechless. “Is he…?”

I shook my head, but my eyes shone, and I hoped the darkness masked them. “But he’s hurt bad. I summoned Ace. I didn’t think he could come, but he did, and he took Caiyan back to headquarters.” I explained to her about the seer, and what would happen to the WTF if the Mafusos got their hands on that key.

“Thank the lord. Caiyan will be…” She stopped midsentence and I turned to see who caught her eye.

Sam walked toward us. His gangly legs ate up the ground.

Gertie’s eyes grew wide. “Here comes the soldier Marco knocked out.”

“He’s been helping me. Follow my lead.”

“Dr. Seuss, will you be staying here or moving to the Lady Farm field hospital? Got plenty more men there needs tending.”

Gertie bit her bottom lip at the name I’d chosen.

“Sure thing,” I said, but my mind was working on how to remove Marco without anyone asking questions.

Lanterns hung haphazardly from the trees as people shuffled between the men. A rather large gentleman laid toes up a few feet from me. His scraggly hair and long gray beard gave me an idea.

“Sam, how far is General Lee’s horse?”

“Through them trees. I should probably git him. I don’t know where the general’s gotten off to.” He shot me an inquisitive gaze.

“I’m going to need a favor.”

Sam nodded.

“Get the general’s horse and meet us there, at the edge of the woods.”

Sam left to find the horse, no questions asked.

I dug in my medical pouch and located the pair of scissors. I walked to the large, dead man, bent, and clipped off his beard.

“What are you doing?” Gertie asked.

I knotted the ends together. “I think I can stick this to Marco’s little scruff of a beard and if we put him on the horse, with the darkness, I can pass him off as General Lee.”

“Are you batshit crazy?”

“Gertie, if we don’t call the shots, the outcome of this war may change. Men may die—”

“Or not die,” she cut me off.

“Gertie please. You know the orders, the moves General Lee made.”

“Damned if I don’t.” She shrugged.

“C’mon. We need to get the general on his horse.”

Gertie followed me inside the barn. The two-story structure reeked of the metallic scent of iron, tobacco, and uncleanliness. Men lay in heaps on the ground, each carving out a small space for themselves.

Marco was huddled in a corner, asleep.

“Marco,” I said. He didn’t budge.

I raised a concerned eyebrow at Gertie.

“Sorry, when the medics started to take him away, I swiped the bottle of Dover’s powder from your medical pouch.”

“Why?”

“He threatened to use his key to go home and get someone to take us home. I told him you had a plan, and if he’d stop acting like a titty baby, I’d give him some medicine to help with the pain. I wasn’t too sure about the dosage. You have a plan, right?”

I nodded and hoped one would develop soon.

All the transporters had traveled except for Ace, and it was risky for him to travel so close to his arrival.

“Ace is working to find my vessel.”

“Good,” Gertie said and glanced down at Marco. “After we got here, he was really doped up. Told nurse pain-in-the-ass he was calling his racecar and going back to his home in the twenty-first century. The nurse confiscated the medicine.”

I kneeled and gave his shoulder a shake. “Marco.”

His eyes opened and he blinked a few times. “Hey, Jen.” His lips pulled into a crooked grin. “You have a caterpillar on your lip.”

He reached out and petted my mustache.

“Lordy, he’s high as a kite,” Gertie said.

“Let’s go, big boy.” I helped him stand and he looped an arm around Gertie and me, using us like a pair of crutches.

Gertie grabbed the blanket he used.

I pushed aside the image of lice and maggots and took the blanket from her. We headed toward the exit.

“Uh-oh, here comes nurse crotchety,” Gertie bobbed her head in the direction of a slim, heavily mustached man marching toward us.

“Where do you think you’re going with that soldier?” He blocked our path, hands on hips.

“He’s the nephew of a colonel. I have orders to take him to the base hospital,” I said.

“Which colonel?”

“Colonel Sanders,” Marco slurred, and then laughed at his own joke.

“Sanders, never heard of him.” The man flipped his delicate wrist at us. “He’s merely a leg wound. Soon as the drug wears off, he can report back to duty. He should stay here, close to his regiment.”

The man stood his ground and I decided to pull rank. “Out of our way, Sergeant.”

His chin raised as he noted my insignia. Refusing to salute, he turned on his heel and left.

We moved outside. Gertie helped Marco drink water from the canteen.

I attached the confiscated beard to Marco’s little scruff of chin hairs, batting away his hand when he tried to touch it.

“No touching, I’m making you look sexy.”

Marco gave me a toothy grin.

I inspected the rest of him. His pant leg, torn and stained where the bullet ripped through, might be a problem. A bandage poked through the hole in the fabric, but there wasn’t any sign of blood. At least the bleeding had stopped, and with the cover of darkness, maybe my idea had a chance to fly.

We moved toward the trees where Sam waited in the shadows with General Lee’s horse.

“Can I have General Lee’s frock coat?” I asked Sam.

Sam tightened his hold on the knapsack.

Marco focused on Sam. “Hey, it’s the guy I decked earlier. Welcome back, dude.” He stumbled over the words.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sam held his lantern up to have a better view of Marco.

“He’s had some medication. Can I please have the coat?”

Sam didn’t budge.

“How about if I hold Marco and you can punch him in the jaw?” I didn’t think the kid could do much damage, and the pain medication would numb the effect.

Gertie glanced at me, then at Sam. “Give him your best shot.”

Marco tilted his chin upwards and tapped his dimple. “Right here.” He was a good sport.

Sam considered and then yanked the coat from his knapsack. “Forget it.”

“I know you don’t understand what we’re doing, but know it’s for the greater good of the Confederacy.”

“I can’t say why, but I trust ya. My ma always said people had a way about ’em if’n they was up to no good. You don’t have that way, Doc.”

I smiled at Sam and took the coat from him. Shaking it out, I tried to put it on Marco. He frowned at me and kept his arms glued to his sides.

“Be a good soldier, and I’ll give you a present later.”

“A soldier?” Marco asked, eyes wide and innocent like a child. “I have little green ones at home.”

“You do?” Gertie smiled up at Marco.

“Gah! Focus!” I held the coat for Marco. “You’re going to pretend to be General Robert E. Lee. Won’t that be fun?”

“Fun,” Marco repeated, and slid his arms into the coat.

Marco winced when he moved his weight to his injured leg. An incapacitated defender wasn’t good for apprehending the bad guys. Remorse for refusing Marco a trip home made me swallow hard. I needed Marco and pushed the guilt aside.

After I secured the buttons on the coat and confirmed it covered the wound.

Gertie took the blanket from me and draped it over Marco’s head. His hat provided a hooded effect, shadowing his face.

“Hey, that’s not bad,” she said.

“Alley oop,” I pointed toward the horse. Marco put his injured leg in the stirrup, and we gave him a push onto the horse. His face twisted in a painful scowl at the effort, but he stayed in the saddle.

Sam held the sturdy gray stallion steady. I met his curious gaze. “If we can pull this off, you won’t get in trouble for losing the general. We’ll say he’s sick, and you need to convince the guards to let us inside the general’s headquarters.”

“Yer not spies, I think, and I didn’t lose the general. I’m not sure what you’ve done with him, but I know it has somethin’ to do with the disappearing box. I’ll stick close to you until I’ve found my answers.”

The kid was a good soldier. I’d need to be careful not to screw up his life.

Gertie raised her eyebrows at me.

“He saw Ace.”

“Uh-oh.” Gertie’s eyes held the same worry as mine. If Sam learned too much about us, it could change his path. He may not become the man who lives to be one hundred and three, has six children, twelve grandchildren, and a mess of great-grandchildren.

“It’s a deal. If you help us, I’ll explain the box. And here,” I said, handing him my pocket watch. “You can keep this. Consider it payment for services rendered.”

Sam admired the watch briefly, then slid it into his pants pocket, patted Traveller’s muzzle, and led him out of the woods.

We moved slowly, keeping to the edge of the trees but using the moonlight as our guide. Gertie carried Sam’s small lantern and we followed the trails carved into the terrain by the cows that once graced the farmland of Gettysburg.