Prisoner in Time (Time travel) (29 page)

David’s hands shook. Looking around at the wounded, he knew he should be helping but the intensity of the battle drained him of every ounce of his physical strength. He dropped to his knees and sat against a log to catch his breath. Dazed and exhausted, he took off his sweat soaked cap and laid it on the ground beside him. As he took a deep breath, he looked up and saw Geoff staring back at him.

He smiled in relief, pointed at him, then made an OK gesture with his index finger and thumb. As he flashed his hand signal, he mouthed the words: “You Ok?”

Geoff flashed a smile back then gave the ‘thumbs up’ sign in return.

David felt relief. He waved back to Geoff and nodded, then raised his thumb up to signal his satisfaction.

As Geoff laid his head back to rest, David lifted his canteen and took a drink of water. He heard a familiar voice from behind:

“Don’t get too comfy. They’ll be back,” Sgt. Cooper said in a cordial tone. He paused a moment, then added, “You fought well, New Mexican.”

David smiled back in appreciation. “I’d say you fought pretty well yourself. I’m sure glad you found someone else to use that knife on,” he teased.

“For now,” Sgt Cooper replied in good humor, then added, “but that could all change in a minute.”

He flashed an uncharacteristic smile, then turned and headed down the line. David laid his head on the log and rested. Looking up toward the bluff, he could see Geoff was doing the same. A wave of guilt overwhelmed his thoughts once more. He recalled Bobby’s fateful surgery and wondered the outcome had he only been rested and clear in mind.

“You should have waited. You had no business operating on that kid,” he said under his breath. “Why didn’t you just wait for the neurosurgeon?” he asked himself, second guessing his abilities.

Instantly, he blurted in anger, “Because there wasn’t time to wait, you idiot! His vitals were dropping way too fast. By the time the neurosurgeon got there, he would have been dead. You did the best you could under the circumstances,” he said, sitting up and looking around to see if anyone heard him.

Seeing his outburst went unnoticed, he lay back down and continued in his thoughts.

“You didn’t have to take all the other surgeries though,” he countered in his mind. “Maybe if you didn’t act like you were superman all the time, someone else could’ve taken the other work and you could’ve been rested up for when it really counted.”

He thought about the truth of his statement and the words cut through him like a knife.

“SHIT!” he shouted out in anger, now convinced of his guilt.

Looking back up to Geoff, he felt sad that the teen was suffering for his error in judgment. As much as he hated the idea of changing the past to affect the future, he felt compelled to do so for the teen’s sake.

“Whatever it takes,” he vowed to himself.

He looked back up to Geoff once more and wondered about his thoughts.

-----*-----*-----*-----

Geoff lay against a log and rested. He felt physically and emotionally drained. With his eyes closed, he tried to think of happier times that would take his mind off the horrific battle. He began to think about Bobby. A smile spread across his face and for a brief moment, he was transported away from the carnage.

As his mind drifted from one memory to the next, his thoughts eventually drifted back to that fateful night when Bobby lost his life. He could still see his brother’s mangled body as he lay pinned inside the wreckage. Instantly, he thought of Arles Moore.

“Freakin’ idiot,” he said under his breath. “He’ll get his someday.”

He felt deep hatred for the troubled teen, then realized something…

“Man, he’s dead,” he said aloud, adding, “I guess he got his already.”

“Who’re you talking about?” Pvt. Holley asked, seated next to Geoff.

Geoff opened his eyes and realized his comment.

“Nobody, just a guy I once knew,” he answered.

Pvt. Holley nodded simply, then closed his eyes and continued to rest.

Geoff looked down from the bluff and stared at David as he rested. He looked tired and worn, nothing like the man he first met. His mind then flashed through the savage battle scenes where David had almost been killed. He thought about how David tried to save the man next to him, at the risk to his own life. He remembered David’s kindness in the face of his angry outbursts. The more he thought about the doctor turned soldier, the more he realized he was responsible for that transformation. Suddenly, he felt guilt.

“Man, what a mess I dragged him into,” he said aloud.

“Who’re you talking about?” Pvt. Holley inquired again, this time with his eyes closed.

Geoff stared down at David and replied, “A friend… just a friend.”

-----*-----*-----*-----

With most men ordered to remain at their stations, only a few were ordered to help in removing the dead and wounded from the field. As horse-drawn ambulances pulled away from the skirmish line, cries of suffering could be heard from the wounded. All men sat in solemn quiet, realizing that at any time, those same cries of pain could be heard from their own voice.

Nearly three hours had passed since the last rifle was fired. An eerie still settled over the battlefield as the men waited. Looking across the field to the enemy, Sgt. Cooper stared through his field glass and tried to second-guess their next move. From a mile away, he could just make out the Northern commander, Gen. George Thomas, sitting on his horse waving his sword as he shouted orders.

“What’re y’all up to,” Sgt. Cooper said to himself, barely audible.

Suddenly, barely detectable through his low powered monocular, he saw a cloud of smoke. Instantly, his eyes widened.

“Y’all take cover!” he shouted over and over across the line.

In seconds, the loud piercing scream of the shell grew in volume as it neared. With a thunderous roar, it landed several yards in front of the skirmish line and exploded. Although the impact was violent, the effects were merely superficial on the section of heavily fortified wall, saving the startled men hiding behind it.

Over the next ten minutes, many more shells were hurled at the entrenched southern soldiers with varying degrees of success. Some men died, others wounded, most felt terror as they waited on their fate.

Sgt. Cooper sat up quickly and checked on the enemy through his field glass. With a determined nod, he stuffed the monocular back into his pocket and shouted to his men.

“Prepare to fire!”

Although the shelling telegraphed the enemies intensions, the initial call to arms sent waves of anxiety through the men. As they clutched their weapons with their sweat-soaked hands, they slowly raised them above the makeshift wall. Moments later, the shelling stopped. In seconds, rifles open fired down from the bluff into the sea of charging men.

“Fire!” Sgt. Cooper shouted.

Instantly, the roar of Rebel guns unleashed a furry of lead upon the blue coated men. Within seconds, their attack was answered with return fire from the fast approaching Union line. Devastating volleys reaped carnage on both sides. Determined to win, neither side relented. As the minutes became two hours, tactical strategies failed resulting in acts of desperation.

David fired on the enemy with speed and accuracy. Every minute, four shots sounded from his rifle. With more logs added to the top of the wall during the battle’s lull, he was now able to kneel and fire fully protected. Staring down the sights of his rifle, fear and apprehension surged through his body. With shaking hands, he hauled back on the hammer, took aim and pulled the trigger. Out in the distance, a hundred and fifty yards away, another Union soldier fell.

As he reloaded, he noticed a massing of soldiers on the Union’s right flank beginning to break out from the regular line. Led by a crazed corporal and several privates, they had watched the men on the bluff repeatedly thwart any attempts to advance. Wreaking havoc with their sniper fire, the enraged corporal had had enough. With a spirited call to charge, the band of Union soldiers made a desperate run for the bluff.

David took aim at the main leader. Suddenly, splinters of wood exploded as a barrage of lead impacted the logs directly in front of him. Instantly, he dropped his rifle and fell backward. Lying on the ground, he held his eyes in pain, while he detected a warm sticky fluid trickle through his fingers.

“I’ve been shot,” he shouted loudly.

-----*-----*-----*-----

Up on the bluff, Geoff and the other sharp shooters continued to fire down onto the Union line. Standing behind their reinforced wall, they were taking heavy fire by the Union’s right flank as their comrades laid down cover-fire for those storming the hill.

With the sounds of lead impacting the wood wall, Geoff began to flinch and duck behind it for safety. His mind raced with fear each time he stood and fired. Quickly, he reloaded his weapon, then raised his head above the wall. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. As he turned slightly, he watched a rifle tumble over the wall and lay on the grass on the opposite side. Turning further, he watched in horror as a private in the middle, collapsed rearward. Lying flat with his arms outstretched, his wound was conspicuous and shocking. Geoff felt sick as he noted the young mans’ missing jaw.

“The Yanks are charging us. Get to shooting,” Pvt. Holley shouted, breaking Geoff’s stare of the gruesome sight.

Geoff nervously clutched his rifle as he turned back toward the action. He raised his weapon and heard a loud ‘thud’ from up the line. Instantly, a shrilled cry of pain sounded out and another private fell forward over the wall of logs and landed in a heap on the other side.

Geoff immediately dropped to his knees and hid behind the wall. Paralyzed in fear, he looked up at Pvt. Holley and watched him fire and reload.

“What the hell you doing down there?” he shouted to Geoff as he filled his barrel with black powder. “Come on, boy. Get up and get to work. Remember: fight like you’re going to live.”

Geoff nodded reluctantly. Seeing Pvt. Holley’s brave eyes staring back at him, he felt somewhat ashamed of his cowardice. A second later, Pvt. Holley’s head exploded in a cloud of blood and bone. He collapsed on top of Geoff, the blood pouring over him. Geoff screamed and instantly shoved the lifeless corpse onto the ground next to him. Tears streamed from his eyes as he tried to process the incomprehensible sight. His mind raced fear.

Looking down at his hands coated in sticky blood, anger welled inside him. He felt sick and enraged at the private’s tragic death. He felt the private’s efforts were all in vain. He stared at Pvt. Holley and remembered his final words: ‘fight like you’re going to live.’

Geoff’s mind surged and his heart pounded. He wanted retribution, he needed revenge.

“It’s not all for nothing,” he spat bitterly.

Looking over at his and the private’s rifles, he took a deep breath and exhaled. Instantly, he jumped to his feet.

“You picked the wrong guy to mess with today, bitch!” he shouted loudly.

Grabbing Pvt. Holley’s loaded weapon, he aimed and fired at the charging soldiers. Instantly, a man fell. Quickly, he reached for his own rifle.

“Oh yeah, the grim reaper has a son and his name is GEOFF ROBBINS!” he screamed down the hill.

Instantly he aimed and fired, killing another of the storming soldiers.

He laid both spent rifles against the wall. Quickly, he reloaded them. In less than twenty seconds, he jumped to his feet and raise one to aim. A second later, he pulled the trigger, then reached for the other rifle. In a blink of an eye, two more men were dead.

With both rifles lying against the wall, he crouched down to reload. In a moment of inspiration, he crawled behind the last two sharp shooters. As they reloaded and fired, they glanced at Geoff in strange curiosity. Moving between the two men, he placed his hands on the wall and counted.