Prisoner in Time (Time travel) (61 page)

“RUN!” he yelled in near hysterical tone.

Instantly, both men charged through the trees. Dodging limbs and weaving back and forth, they produced moving targets nearly impossible to hit. As they reached the safety of their horses, both took a quick glance back toward the hill top.

“I guess the scouts were right,” Geoff said in embarrassed tone.

“Gee, you think? What a friggin’ mistake this was!” David spat angrily.

He pulled a rag from his pocket and quickly wiped the blood from his face. Stowing it back in his pocket, he said, “They’ll be coming for us. Let’s get out of here.”

Geoff didn’t answer, but only nodded. As he reached for his saddle horn, he winced in pain.

“Dammit, what the hell was that?” he said loudly.

“Holy Crap Geoff!” David shouted.

He ran to his side and examined the blood streak that crossed Geoff’s back and exited his right shoulder.

“Take off your jacket,” David demanded.

Geoff tried to pull his arm from his sleeve, but winced again in pain once more.

“Dammit, I think they shot me,” he said, his tone now surprised.

David helped him off with his coat.

“Oh Crap!” he said in shock.

“What is it? What do you see?” Geoff shot back quickly.

“You were extremely lucky. Looks like a bullet skimmed along your back. You have a blood streak running diagonally up your back and out your shoulder.”

“I’ve been shot?” Geoff shrieked in panicked tone.

“You’ll be ok Geoff. It doesn’t look bad at all,” David said, now looking at Geoff’s exposed back as he lifted his shirt. “Just a slight cut through your skin.”

“I can’t believe it. I’ve been shot,” he said, his mind now wandering.

“Geoff, relax, it’s superficial. It’ll heal in a couple of days, but if we don’t get out of here now, I’m pretty sure the Rebs will finish the job.”

Geoff could see the worry in David’s eyes and nodded in understanding. He gritted his teeth, grabbed his saddle horn and hopped up into the saddle. David handed him his coat and climbed up onto his horse too.

“You lead. Follow our trail back. Ride hard,” David ordered in quick succession.

Instantly, Geoff kicked his heels and his horse galloped off. David looked over his shoulder once more. He shook his head in disgust and chased after Geoff.

Thirty minutes later, the two entered the dust cloud caused by the march of Gen. Schofield’s men as they entered the fortified city of Nashville Tennessee. Galloping up the line, they quickly caught up to Doc and fell into the march beside him. Doc turned and stared in shock at the condition of his two friends.

Geoff rode with a slight lean to one side. His face looked pale and his body rigid as he tried to minimize any unnecessary movements. David’s face looked swollen and red and still shown streaks of blood from fragments of wood and bark that had peppered his skin. Sitting on top of his head, his hat had collapsed from the large caliber bullet that had passed through, tearing two gaping holes in it front to back.

“Well, I hope it was worth it,” Doc said in disgust. “I don’t mean this to be humorous, but you two look like you’ve been through a war.”

“That bad, huh?” David asked, he voice sounding worn and tired.

“Duh,” Doc scolded in modern sarcastic slang.

Slightly hunched in his saddle, Geoff’s eyes widened and he stiffened his posture. Turning toward David, the two stared at each other in surprise. A grin curled on their lips and they chuckled.

“What’s so funny? Did I not use that word in its proper context?” Doc asked, slightly offended.

“It was perfect Doc,” David responded, still laughing.

“I fail to see the humor then,” he continued.

“We’re laughing ‘cause it’s not every day we hear a geezer use it,” Geoff blurted.

Doc hauled back on his reins and stopped momentarily. He glared at Geoff and said, “Lad, I predict a good thrashing in your future.”

“You’re too late, Santa. The Rebs beat you to it,” he replied, wincing as he spoke. He tried to say something else, but had neither the desire, nor the energy to do so.

Doc grinned, then kicked his heels and continued his trot. Turning serious once more, he asked, “So, for all your troubles, were you two able to formulate a plan at least?”

The two stared at each other with disappointment. No further words were needed.

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

December 8
th
,
1864 

Nashville
Tennessee 

The skies clouded over and the cold winds blew in from the north. Seated around the campfire, Doc and Geoff sipped their morning coffee and tried to keep warm. Even with their heavy woolen coats, they needed their blankets to stay warm.

“Dang, I don’t ever remember it being this cold before,” Geoff complained through chattering teeth.

Doc took another sip of coffee and said, “When you get to be a
geezer
my age, you remember all kinds of bad weather.”

“You’re not still sore about that geezer remark, are you?” Geoff asked.

“Of course not Lad. I’m simply passing time by teasing you.”

“Oh, is that all,” Geoff said sarcastically.

Doc smirked and readjusted the blanket around his shoulders. Moments later, David joined them by the fire. Reaching for the coffee, he realized it was nearly empty.

“Jeez guys, thanks a lot. Hope you’re nice and toasty. It’s like thirty degrees out here and you drink the only thing that keeps us warm.”

“It’s twenty-five,” Geoff said in a muffled voice as he spoke through his blanket.

“What?” David asked, not sure if he heard him correctly.

Geoff pulled the blanket from his mouth and said, “It’s twenty-five degrees. Captain Hall has one of those fancy barometers in his tent and it’s hovering around twenty-five degrees.”

David smirked at Geoff’s attempted humor.

“So, do I have to pull rank and order you two to make coffee or are you going to suddenly develop a considerate nature and replenish the pot you emptied?”

Geoff stared at Doc, waiting for him to move first. As seconds ticked by, Doc responded casually, “I’m willing to risk a court martial.”

“Me too,” Geoff added, chuckling under his blanket.

David glared at both of them. Shaking his head, he said aloud, “Knuckle heads.”

While Doc and Geoff sat and shivered, David prepared a new pot of coffee. As the three watched it brew over the fire, David warmed his now frozen hands.

“How was your meeting with Gen. Thomas?” Doc asked of David.

“He wants to recommend us all for medals.”

“Seriously?” Geoff asked, now interested.

“Yup, says we performed above and beyond the call of duty, as surgeons,” David responded.

“I’ll add it to my collection,” Doc replied humorously.

“Do you have many medals Doc?”

“A few, I think. I don’t really keep track of them.”

“Man, if I had a bunch of medals, I’d be wearing them in my sleep,” Geoff responded.

“They’re nice to have, but I don’t feel comfortable bragging about my accomplishments.” Turning back to David, he continued with the original topic. “So what else did Gen. Thomas say? Have there been any new developments with Gen. Hood?

“He thinks Hood is trying to draw us into a fight on his terms, but Gen. Thomas isn’t buying into it. He’s waiting for more favorable conditions with reinforcements and weather.”

“Yup, the weather sure isn’t cooperating,” Geoff cut in.

Doc nodded in agreement, then said, “I’m surprised he’s waiting for more men. I do believe we outnumber Hood, especially after that last battle in Franklin.”

“Yeah, kind of surprises me too, but he must have his reasons,” David replied.

“I suppose,” Doc responded.

David poured himself some coffee and sipped it by the fire. Moments later, he felt a slight mist beginning.

“Oh great, just what we need,” he said in disgust.

Minutes later, the mist turned to light rain and quickly began to extinguish the fire. As the three made their way to David’s tent, the light rain increased in intensity. Within an hour, the heavy rain flooded the ground and became a sheet of ice in the sub-freezing temperatures. Over the next two days, the unrelenting precipitation and temperatures formed a layer of ice on everything, completely immobilizing both armies. The best they could do was hole up in their tents and wait.

December 13
th
, 1864 

Geoff stared into the roaring campfire and watched the coals crackle and spark. With his blanket tightly wrapped around his shoulders, he felt chilled to the bone, yet other matters distracted him from his discomfort. Lost in thought, his face carried the look of worry and Doc became concerned.

“Geoffrey, you looked distressed. Are you ok?” he asked sincerely.

“I’m worried about the weather. I don’t remember hearing anything about it from Arles junior. The battle is supposed to start in a couple days and Gen. Thomas is
still
waiting for everything to melt. I know this sounds crazy but I’m wondering if our presence here has somehow changed the weather… created some kind of energy that disrupts the atmosphere.”

“Before meeting you or David, I didn’t think time travel was possible. Now that I know that it does, I’m not sure what to think about science. You could be right. Your presences here just might have some ill-effects on the weather,” Doc said.

“And at the rate we’re going, the battle might be delayed by a lot which could completely throw off the timeline of events. I may never be able to find Arles after this.”

“If the present has somehow changed, I’d say the future has changed with it… most likely changing the events of your brother’s death. If that’s the case, you can abandon your plan to do away with Arles Moore,” Doc suggested.

Geoff thought about the logic of this statement. It made sense to him. He nodded in understanding as a sense of relief crossed his face.

“Wow, to be going home alive. What a turn that would be,” he said to himself.

Doc heard the statement, but took a moment to think about its meaning.

“Geoffrey, try to be positive. I know this mission of yours is fraught with danger, but if you’re in doubt about its success, there’s a strong possibility you’ll fail. You must see the success in your mind,” Doc said, tapping his finger to his temple.

Geoff sat quietly and returned his stare to the fire, the words Doc spoke seemingly being ignored. Doc glared at Geoff in puzzlement.

“Lad, are you even listening to me?” he asked, feeling mildly frustrated.

“I hear you Doc. Thanks for the advice,” he responded, his tone sounding distracted.

Doc was about to comment, but heard footsteps quickly approaching. He looked over his shoulder and saw David nearing them in a hurry. He jumped to his feet and waited.