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I turned on my heel and started walking toward the supply tent, letting Patrica and her husband ponder what they just heard. At the halfway point of Pat’s and her husband’s fire, I felt a presence behind me and turned. Pat’s husband ran into me, took an awkward step back and offered me his hand. He was surprisingly short at what I estimate to be five foot four or five. He looked a lot taller from a distance, probably because of his extremely narrow build. I shook it as he quickly and quietly said, “How did you know about Pat? We’ve been so careful to hide her identity.”
“It was pretty easy for me. I’ve learned to notice the little things over the years.”
I turned and continued to walk to the supply tent and hearn Curt’s footsteps following me. “Yes but HOW could you tell?” he said, “We try so hard to disguise everything that could show her true gender.”
“I heard you and her talking and came to that conclusion. Like I said, sharp ears.”
Curt turned around and Curt turned around and walked back to his tent, arriving there just as I walked into the billowing white supply tent. The quartermaster walked in a few minutes after me. "Hello, Major," he said with a hint of salt in his voice.
"Hello. When are the wagons set to arrive?"
"Any minute now." he said.
We stood in the tent awkwardly for a few minutes until the sound of horse hooves approached the tent. I walked out with the quartermaster close on my heels. There was a long train of wagons coming toward the tent, probably ten times more than usual.
"Why so much? With Buford's regiment we'll barely have 2,200 people! This is enough for at least ten thousand people!"
"That really says something for what Lincoln expects will happen here."
The quartermaster sighed nervously. The wagons rolled in. Three people hopped out of each wagon and started to unload the wagons. I counted fourteen wagons, three of which were filled with ammunition. There was enough food for around 300 people on each of the wagons. The quartermaster severely overestimated how much supplies there were. I thought of the meaning of all of this food coming- thought of how this means there was no hope in avoiding conflict here at Gettysburg.
A few hours after the unpacking began, I felt a young messenger approached me so I turne . He looked startled and nervous, and he squeaked, "Colonel Hunt told me to tell you that Buford is approaching town and he wants you to be there."
"Where exactly?"
"Near the Dobbin House."
"Thank you."
When I got to the Dobbin House I could faintly hear the soft clip-clop of horse hooves in the distance. Colonel Hunt and Lieutenant Colonel Rafferty stood under the awning in front of the Dobbin House. I walked over to them. Almost as soon as my foot touched the porch, Rafferty said, "Major Spaar, you haven't been here as long as us but you know the land a lot better than us. Can you help Buford find his position once he comes here"
"Okay," I responded.
We heard excited cheers from around the corner and saw the cavalry come around the corner, Buford in the front on his old white horse. Buford hopped off of his horse in front of the porch and looked at us. "Gentleman," He said, "Where is seminary ridge?"
"It is north-east of here," I said, "I can show you to a game trail. If you follow that you'd be at the ridge in two shakes."
He nodded and said, "I'll follow you."
I waited for a second to make sure he meant now. He stood there and looked at me. I turned and walked into the woods, making sure he was following me.
Once in the woods I felt at home, calm seeing the golden rays of the sun filtering through the summer green leaves. I let myself become in tune with my surroundings, taking note of every inconsistency in what is usually there while leading Buford deeper into the woods. After around five minutes of walking, I pointed out the game trail to him. Buford began to walk a little ahead of me, observing a small creek. “The trail next to
"I’m going to head back to town and assemble my men. Thanks for the directions. Are you coming back too?" Buford said.
"You can," I responded, "I'm circling back to the camp."
Buford turned toward town and started walking. I continued up the game trail for a few minutes and turned left. There was a small clearing here, telling me that camp was around a mile away from my position. I let myself relax for a second. The moment I felt completely calm, I felt a presence near me, so I faced it and drew my pistol. Thomas Blackburn appeared seemingly out of nowhere and looked at me, concerned. “What’s wrong with your face?” he asked.
“Nothing, Thomas, Why are you out here? Aren’t you supposed to be delivering rations?”
I responded, putting away my pistol. “I finished, and call me Tommy.” He said, awkwardly offering his left hand.
I shook it. It felt extremely hot, and looking closer at his eyes they were glassy. “Are you okay,” I asked. He fidgeted with his bag “Never felt better, why?”
He collapsed backward, hitting the ground hard, then stood right back up. “That was strange,” He said, “Probably the heat.”
I felt a presence near me and heard a rusting in a bush. I faced it, pushing Tommy behind me and placing my hand on the grip of my saber. The presence seemed normal, probably just a deer or something, but the leaves began to rustle loudly and the presence grew larger. A long growl sounded as a cinnamon colored wolf with strangely human eyes stepped into the sunlight, hackles raised and long yellow teeth gleaming in the midday sun.
I drew my sword, hoping it would seem to the wolf my arm was longer, and held it in the direction of the wolf, straightening my back to make myself look taller. Keeping eye contact with the wolf, I quietly said, “Tommy, stand up as straight as you can and walk backward slowly, try not to make any sudden movements”
I took a few steps backward and bumped into Tommy. I whipped my head around and he was frozen, his hand clasped over the side of his neck. “Back up,” I hissed.
Tommy took a few slow steps backward. A loud growl ripped through the quiet of the forest; I turned my head back to the wolf it lunged at me. I moved to the side quickly, shoving Tommy to the other side. Tommy fell down to the side and pain shot up my arm as the wolf’s long teeth pierced the skin and muscle of my wrist. I felt as if I couldn’t move for a split second until it all subsided and my left leg collapsed underneath me.
From the ground I pulled at my colt and shot the wolf in the side as I stood up. It seemed completely unfazed. It walked right past me and advanced towards Tommy. Tommy looked completely shocked. The wolf lunged at him and he yelped, holding his hands up to block his face. His palms glowed white-hot for half a second, and just as the wolf was upon him a fireball erupted from his hands. The ball of fire shot past the wolf’s face, burning the side of it badly. The wolf yelped and ran off, scratching at its face. “Tommy!”
I said, kneeling near his limp body. He was breathing heavily and I couldn’t help but notice that his normally heather grey eyes were glowing a fiery red. As his eyes slowly closed he said weakly, “Don’t tell anyone about how you injured your wrist or they will find you. They will find you just as they found me.”440Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeuIIGdljZ6
