Prisoner in Time (Time travel) (64 page)

“Yeah, me too,” David replied. “I guess I’ll go drag him out of bed,” he added with a reluctant groan.

Doc smiled cordially. As David stood and headed down the line, Doc shouted, “Tell junior if he’s not out here in five minutes, Santa’s coming in there after him.”

David chuckled and said, “I’ll tell ‘im.”

Minutes later, David shouted as he stepped through the opening to Geoff’s tent:

“Rise and shine Geoff. Doc said if you’re not out in five minutes, Santa’s coming to get you. I’d listen to him if I were you.”

David froze. Geoff was gone. He looked around the tent and immediately sensed something wrong. His bed wasn’t slept in. The tent was empty… all his belongings were conspicuously missing.

David noticed a single sheet of paper lying in the middle of Geoff’s neatly made bed. He walked over, picked it up and began to read. Instantly, his eyes widened and his heart started to race. Fear and anxiety coursed through his body.

“Oh No! Oh God, No!” he said under his breath as he read.

David stood quivering as he finished the last line. His eyes darted around the room, then back to the letter, hoping it was all a bad dream. The reality of its contents stunned him. He spun around and rushed out into the darkness.

“Doc he’s gone,” David shouted as he neared the campfire.

Too far away, he shouted once again as he neared, “Doc, Geoff is gone!”

Doc heard David’s message and leaped to his feet.

“What do you mean gone?” he shouted back in disbelief.

As he rushed up to Doc, he handed him the letter.

“Here, read this,” David demanded.

Doc immediately took the letter. He looked at the intensity in David’s eyes and felt his heart begin to race. David watched Doc’s eyes dart back and forth across the page. With each line he read, his eyes widened in horror. As he reached the final words, his hands trembled. He lowered the letter and stared back at David.

“My God man! Arles never really was his target,” he exclaimed, his voice filled with anguish.

“I know. I can’t believe it myself.”

Doc stood, shaking his head in disbelief. A minute before, he couldn’t have imagined anything so disturbing.

“We have to stop him,” he said, his tone firm and resolute.

David nodded. “I won’t let him do this,” he responded.

Minutes later, two horses galloped through the camp, a trail of dust marking their departure.

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

December 15
th
, 1864 

Geoff breathed heavily as he ran through the sparsely populated forest. Sweat dripped from his cheeks and rolled rearward down his neck. His legs and feet were sore from the continuous jog, but he ignored his pain and continued on. As the morning light began to show, he could just make out the silhouette of Compton’s Hill in the distance. He stopped a moment to view its shape. His stomach churned knowing its rounded crest held a brigade of Confederate soldiers waiting to fire. Taking a large breath of air, he exhaled deeply, trying to expel his nervous tension. With little relief, he continued on toward his destination.

Two hours later, still jogging, the forest thinned out into rolling hills dotted with trees. Clear and distinct, Compton’s Hill loomed just ahead. He stopped to rest a moment. Hyperventilating, he labored to breathe. Taking deep breaths of air, he clung to a tree for support. Aside from the morning birds busy in their songs, the land was eerily quiet.

Suddenly, he heard the loud shriek of incoming shells. As the scream of the projectiles grew in volume, he leaped to the ground for protection. Just over a hill to his front, loud explosions shattered the morning peace. As he lay with his hands over his head, he felt the ground rumble and shake from the shell’s impact. Just as he leapt to his feet, more Confederate shells sounded out in the morning sky.

With the start of the battle, he knew he had little time left. Ignoring his safety, he charged ahead at full sprint. He ran down into a shallow dip in the land, then rushed back up the other side. As he crested a small bluff, he stopped dead in his tracks. Spread out along the base of Compton’s Hill, Union breastworks stretched around its landscape as far as the eye could see. Thousands of blue-coated men leaned into the wooden wall and held their rifles at the ready.

Once more, he heard the deafening roar of incoming shells. Instinctively, he dropped to the ground, thrust his hands over his head and waited. In seconds, more loud explosions thundered across the valley. Again, he leaped to his feet and charged for the protection of the breastworks a hundred yards away.

Running at full speed, he sprinted to the fullest extent of this ability. Pumping his arms and legs wildly, he focused on one spot at the wooden wall. He felt his lungs aching, screaming for him to stop. He knew he had little time to spare.

One hundred yards away from safety, he heard the loud cannon fire at the top of Compton’s Hill. Looking to the crest, he saw plumes of smoke drifting into the air.

“Oh no,” he whimpered feebly.

With little energy left, he searched deep within himself for any remaining reserves. Pushing himself to his breaking point, he felt his lungs would burst. Huffing desperately, he gasped for air as he ran.

Suddenly, he heard the telltale sound of the incoming shells. Streaking across the sky, he knew he was in trouble.

Sixty feet…

Fifty feet…

Forty feet…

He charged ahead, nearly on the edge of tripping. His legs began to cramp and he started to slow. Out of wind and out of strength, he stumbled forward, caught himself, but continued his run.

Thirty feet…

Twenty-five feet…

Twenty feet…

Geoff heard the sound of the shell roar toward him. With nothing left to give, he stumbled once again, fifteen feet short of the wooden barricade. He tumbled over the grass, heard the loud explosion and instinctively covered himself as he tried to lay flat.

Landing on the opposite side of the wooden wall, the artillery shell exploded. Instantly, its deadly shrapnel tore through the wall killing those behind it instantly. Those standing nearby, were killed as the molten metal flew over the top of the wall, imbedding in flesh and bone.

Geoff felt the dull pain across his body and cried out. Large and blunt, the object struck him, momentarily taking his breath away. He lay a moment collecting himself, then rolled to his side and rubbed his hands down his body, searching for blood. He brought his hands to his face and breathed a sigh of relief.

“No blood,” he said aloud.

He looked around him and noticed a heavy log lying beside him. Looking up at the hole in the breastworks, he realized the reason for his pain.

“Just a log,” he said to himself.

Suddenly, he heard another round of shells on their way. He grabbed his rifle off the ground and crawled behind the wooden wall. Seconds later, more explosions tore at the wall up and down the line. Cries of agony sounded from the men in the path of the molten metal.

“FIRE!”

All around him, Geoff heard the sound of rifles discharging their deadly payload. He stood behind the wall and watched thousands of men fire and reload at the speed of their own abilities. Some fired four shots per minute. Others were slower. The wave of lead hurling toward the top of the hill suddenly silenced the enemy’s aggression. Within minutes, the enemy at the top had regrouped and returned fire.

Bullets impacted the breastworks, sending splintered wood in all directions. Geoff quickly ducked the waves of lead. Listening intently, he waited for a break in the action. Moments later, as the Union line returned fire, he stood up again and surveyed the hill in front of him.

The gentle sloping hill was dotted with several trees not yet cut down for protection. Geoff noticed a large oak three-quarters of the way to the top. With large stumps spaced irregularly about the hill, he envisioned a path along them leading up to the large oak tree.

“That’s it. That’s my only chance,” he said to himself. “Now I just wait.”

Suddenly, he heard the call to charge. Every man jumped the breastworks and headed up the hill. Waves of Union soldiers ran at full speed, changing their course as they moved higher. Loading as they ran, they laid down punishing fire, pushing the Rebel line momentarily from their dug-in positions. Reloading and regrouping, the Rebel line forged a counterattack, sending the Union men back down the hill to their skirmish line.

For the next hour, the siege and retreat continued. With each charge of the Union line, the Rebel line weakened and with each Union advance, higher ground was attained.

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

As the battle raged around him, Geoff crouched down behind the wall and pretended to fire. Suddenly he heard a voice behind him.

“Soldier, fire that weapon.”

Geoff spun around and noticed a sergeant glaring at him. Instantly, the man noticed Geoff’s lieutenant’s bars on his applets.

“You talking to me?” Geoff asked, defiantly.

“Sorry Sir. I didn’t recognize your rank. I thought you were one of those cowardly soldiers.”

As another round of bullets roared down from the top, the sergeant took cover next to Geoff. Seeing his medical badge sewn to his hat, the sergeant recognized Geoff as a doctor.

“Sir, pardon my candor, but what are you doing here? Are you lost? The medical camp is up yonder, five miles north of here,” Sgt. Ellis said.

“I have other business here, Sergeant… secret business, and I need your help,” Geoff responded.

“Yes Sir,” Sgt. Ellis responded respectfully.

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

With the next Union advance, the men pushed the Rebel line far from their defense. Only a handful stayed and fired. Inspired by their comrade’s courage, other Confederates braved the Union fire and returned to their stations. Minutes later, the Union line reluctantly retreated to the safety of the breastworks.

This was the moment Geoff was waiting for. He stared up at the hilltop. Every feeling, every thought screamed for him to stop. He swallowed hard and stood up.

Turning back to Sgt. Ellis, he said, “It’s time.”

“Good luck, Sir,” Sgt. Ellis said.

He saluted Geoff in deep respect, then shouted out his next command.

“COVER THAT LIEUTENANT!”

Quickly, Geoff jumped the log wall and hurried uphill toward the first of many stumps in his path. Twenty yards away, he dropped down and hid behind a large stump and waited. A hail of bullets rushed up the hill past him, pinning down the weakening Rebel line. Sensing opportunity, he leaped to his feet and ran up the hill another fifty feet, diving to the ground just behind another large stump. Moments later, he heard the dull thud of a bullet impacting the stump on the opposite side.

From below, Sgt. Ellis continued his orders, “Cover the Lieutenant! Fire at will!”

Geoff waited a moment, then rushed toward the next stump, thirty feet higher. With his eyes focused, he blocked out all distractions. Breathing heavily now, he drove his legs harder and pumped his arms. Ten feet from the stump, he saw the grass erupt as Confederates fire zeroed in on his position. He dove forward once again, sliding up against the log. Instantly, two more bullets exploded against the stump’s front.

Geoff looked down at the Union line. He could hear Sgt. Ellis shouting out his orders. Looking up, the Rebels hid behind their defenses. He focused on his next target one hundred feet higher.

Geoff sprang to his feet once more. Nervous tension now began to drain his energy and he breathed much harder. As he ran up the hill, he gasped for air. Worry seeped into his consciousness. He quickly pushed the negativity down deep within him and concentrated his focus.

Thirty feet…

Twenty feet…

Ten feet…

He began to see grass erupt once more. With one last effort, he sprinted and then dove just like he had done each time before. More bullets impacted the stump in front of him.

Sgt. Ellis stared up at the young lieutenant with both admiration and fear.

“My God, he’ll never make it,” he said to himself sadly.

He turned to his men and shouted his command even louder, “Fire! Cover that brave Lieutenant!”

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

“I just can’t believe it… Geoffrey, a suicide,” Doc said, sitting atop his horse.

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it a suicide, Doc. He’s giving his life for his brother’s,” David responded as he saddled his horse.

Doc shook his head in disbelief. “I just can’t believe it. All this time and he never said a word. I figured he was just going to kill Arles… not step in front of the bullet and save him.”

“You know, if you think about it, he never actually said he was going to kill anyone.
WE
were the ones who implied that,” David said.

“I believe you’re right, David. We twisted his words and he let us believe it.”

“You have to admit though, the plan is genius. If he saves Arles, he’ll no longer become a war hero. Arles will live as an ordinary man. That’ll
have
to change the future. I’m absolutely certain of it. If he succeeds, Bobby
will
live.”

Doc shook his head some more. “That poor kid, carrying around that awful secret this whole time. How’d he stay so pleasant and good natured? If I knew I was going to die on a certain day and by my own hand, I just don’t think I could function.”

“He has more character and strength than anyone I’ve ever met,” David concurred.

“And the lad is only seventeen,” Doc responded.

David tugged hard on the belly strap to his saddle, securing it firmly to his horse. He stepped into his stirrup, then reached for his saddle horn and hauled himself up.

“Ready?” Doc asked nervously, waiting for David to finish.

A loud “boom” echoed across the valley. Instantly, both men’s eyes shifted south and stared momentarily in fear.

“Oh no! It’s started,” David lamented.

“We need to hurry,” Doc responded, his tone tense and grim.

David yanked hard on his reins and kicked his heels, turning his horse toward the sound. As the two galloped out of camp, one sound became many, only serving to heighten their fears.

Riding side by side through the sparsely populated forests, Doc and David dodged trees and leapt obstacles the best they could, rushing to reach Geoff in time. Keeping their eyes on Compton’s Hill, they maintained a direct path to the battle.

Almost immediately, they ran into Union defenses. With the Confederate forces opposing them a half mile away, they were left with no other choice but to circumnavigate the skirmish. Rushing beyond the reaches of the enemy, they pushed their horses to their limits. Two miles deep into the woods, they stopped and listened. In silent understanding, having cleared the skirmish, they turned back onto their course and hurried south toward the sound of the distant battle.

Soon, the dense forest thinned in growth and allowed the two to ride faster. They rode into a shallow valley, then pushed their horses hard up the successive hill. As they crested the bluff at nearly full gallop, they rushed into another line of Union defenses. David hauled back on his reins and stopped his horse. Turning back, he rode toward a union officer sitting tensely on his saddle. As the two riders approached, the Major stared at them in confusion.