Page 120 of After 5
“Imagine smelling that for the last twenty-four hours.” Marco wrinkled his nose.
“It’s the sulfur you smell. Every so often I carry it outside and announce how painful it was for the general to pass such foulness. I dump it in the waste, tell the onlookers General Lee’s germs is starting to show signs of improvement. Seems to keep them at a distance.”
“You’re brilliant.” I draped an arm across her shoulders.
“How are we going to get General Lee back from the abyss?” Marco asked.
“I don’t know. What I do know is I’ve got to concentrate on what matters most, and that’s saving Sam.”
“I can help with Brodie,” Gertie said. “He’s always up for a good game of cards. I saw some of the men playing cards on that old door they’ve got set up as a table.”
I remembered seeing the men gathered around the table when I arrived.
“You can take this,” she pointed to the bowl of ick. “The waste is on the other side of the table. Brodie will follow you and get his mind on the game, then you can sneak away.”
Marco chewed on his lower lip. His need to keep me safe fought against the injured leg and knowing he had to keep up the ruse as General Lee until we figured out why my vessel wouldn’t return. “Be careful.”
“Awe, you care about me.” I smiled at him.
“Sure I do.” I stood on my toes to give him a peck on the cheek, and he turned his head. “I can’t kiss you dressed like a dude. You don’t look like you.”
“That’s a good thing because there’s lots of people we know here, and I can’t afford to be identified.”
“Who else is here?” Marco looked alarmed.
“Mortas for starters. He didn’t make me, but Toecheese saw me, and I’m sure he recognized me, but he didn’t call me out.”
“Huh, you can be assured, that weasel has a reason.” Marco waved his hand in front of his nose as Gertie added another ingredient to the bowl of sewer manure “Man, that shit stinks.”
“I’ll be back before you know it.” I picked up the bowl and the aroma made me gag. I held it at arm’s length and exited the tent.
Gertie was right—it worked like magic. The sea of men parted, giving me a broad path. Brodie held his nose and followed me but detoured at the cards. I dumped the bowl into the sump hole the camp used to contain waste and scurried around the backside of the camp.
Escaping from Brodie wasn’t difficult. When he saw the card table he was drawn in like flies to a cesspool. He joined in the game with members of Lee’s staff and generals who had already seen time on the battlefield.
My only problem—the horse I had commandeered on the way here was tied up behind Brodie. There was no way I’d make the distance on foot in time to save Sam. General Lee’s gray stallion grazed in the pen at the edge of the camp.
After securing my transportation, I rode in the direction Gertie had shown me on the map. Cutting back along Seminary Ridge, I passed men from the Second Corps. Their eyes grew wide at the sight of a man on General Lee’s horse. A brazen colonel stopped me. I held my breath and I showed him the sealed paper. He waved me on.
I moved deeper into the woods, away from the mass of men readying for battle. This would never work. I’d be stopped and questioned at every checkpoint. A cardinal chirped anxiously on what was left of a burned-out tree. My mom told me cardinals brought good luck with them.
The bird chortled and flew away, hopefully not taking the luck with him. I needed a set of wings for a bird’s eye view, or a lookout tower. I stopped in front of a giant oak. Its trunk forked halfway up the base, making for an excellent climbing tree. A small orchard of peach trees surrounded the base of the giant oak. It was nothing in comparison to the orchard trampled flat from the prior day’s fight, but the pink blooms still clung to the branches as if defending their part of the battlefield.
I dismounted and secured the horse to one of the peach trees. I climbed as high as I could manage, and the view stole my breath. Thousands of men had stepped from the woods, still out of the view of the Union Army hunkered down behind the stone wall thirteen football fields away.
Bands played as if the regiments were passing in review. Onlookers cheered their support from the sidelines. My stomach went queasy as I scoured the men for Sam.
Division colonels rode their mounts, shouting their battle cries. The captains paced back and forth in front of the lines, dressing their men. I counted as each one met the end of his responsibility and guesstimated Sam’s place amongst them.
I lowered myself from the tree and about halfway down I stepped on a branch damaged from a cannon. The old tree had seen its share of the fight. The branch snapped, gave way, and I fell. My back struck hard against bark and limbs on the way down. One of the peach trees broke my fall and I landed on the ground with a huff.
I stayed still for a long minute and noted my injuries. I wiggled my feet, Ok, not broken. My back hurt the worst, but I could move my arms. Not paralyzed. I touched my face. The beard was gone, lost on the way down. I blinked at the tree above me. Something furry hung in its branches. Too big for a squirrel. A raccoon? A possum? I moved slowly not to frighten the animal and a soft gust of wind blew a strand of my blond hair in front of my face.
I sighed, stood on tiptoe, and snagged my wig from the branches. I hastily tucked my hair under the wig and found my cap a few feet from my landing spot. The beard was history, but at least I still wore the fuzzy mustache.
Planting the cap on my head, I removed my key from its hiding place, and dumped it from the woolen sock into my palm. I needed it now. If I found Caiyan, I’d tell him. I would show him my key and warn him not to come here.
Securing the key around my neck, a warm hug enveloped me followed by a soft glow. My key was happy to be connected once again to its owner.
