The Last, Long Night (#5 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (51 page)

Robert shook his head and then sank lower to the ground when Union gunners on the high ground east of Fort Stedman opened fire with a hurricane of shells. 

When he heard the order to retreat, Robert knew it would be even more dangerous than the advance.  Nothing was there to protect them from the sights of massive artillery batteries.

“What do I want you to do?” Robert shouted, as he raised his arm and then sprang to his feet to sprint forward.  “Retreat!  And stay alive!”

The Union assault grew even more brutal when they saw the Confederates waver.  Wave after wave of infantry attacked,  the barrage of blistering shells relentless.  Robert groaned as he and his men ran through no man’s land and leapt over fallen bodies in that field of slaughter.  He knew some men would choose to be captured, but he would give his all to get back behind the lines of protection.  Robert had seen what prison had done to Matthew.  He had no desire to experience that for himself, and the agony Carrie would go through if he was taken prisoner kept him running.

He ran, expecting a bullet to penetrate his body at any time.  When he reached the other side and dove into a trench, only then did he risk looking back at the battlefield.  He gasped, groaning at the sight of the spreading carnage. 

Moses heaved a sigh of relief when he ran into an officer advancing on the Rebels. 

“What are you doing, soldier?” he asked Moses curtly.

“Looking for someone to fight with, sir!” Moses replied strongly.

“You’ve found someone,” he snapped curtly.  “Join with my men to drive the Rebels all the way back!”

Moses’ unit turned with a roar and pressed forward, determined to take back what had been taken from them.  They pressed forward into sight of Fort Stedman and continued to fire steadily, cheering when the Confederate retreat turned into a panicked rout. 

Moses grinned at his men and waved them toward the fort.  “Let’s take our fort back!” he yelled before he saw the guns of the fort swing in their direction.

As he raced forward, he felt a heavy force slam into his chest and propel him backwards.  He slammed back into the ground with a groan and then struggled to stand again to continue forward. Confusion overtook him when he couldn’t move. 

His eyes wide with alarm, Simon knelt beside him.  “Don’t move, Moses.  You been shot.”

“You have to keep moving,” Moses gasped.  “Stay with the men...”

Simon shook his head.  “You my best friend, Moses.  The Rebels is on the run.  It’s over.  I’m right here with you.”

Still not feeling any pain from getting shot, Moses stared up at him.  “Is it bad?” he asked quietly, the look on Simon’s face saying it must be.

Simon hesitated and then nodded, his eyes wide as he took his hand.  “It’s bad.”

Union men continued forward, racing around Moses and Simon, as they pursued the Rebels.  Cannon fire and gunshots blasted a constant cacophony.  All the while, the sun warmed the ground as a soft breeze sprang up.

Moses gritted his teeth against the pain that suddenly hit and thought about Rose.  If he had to die, at least it was going to be on a pretty spring morning.  He closed his eyes and saw the green sprigs of tobacco plants penetrating the soil, reaching for the light; Roses’ shining eyes and brilliant smile gazing down at all of it.  

He forced his eyes open, everything fuzzy as he looked up and saw Simon’s scared eyes.  “You tell Rose I love her,” he whispered.  “Her and little John.”

Simon wiped at the tears on his face as he grasped Moses’ hand.  “I’ll tell her,” he promised, “but you ain’t dead yet, Moses.”  He moved his face into Moses’ range of vision and stared down at him.  “You got to hold on, Moses.  You got to hold on!”

Moses squeezed his hand tightly.  “When you get to Richmond,” he gasped, “you find Carrie… help her…”  His eyes closed as his body went slack.

Four hours after the battle had begun, it was all over.  Lee’s attempt to break out of Grant’s siege had failed miserably.  The Confederate army was weaker than ever.  Federal morale skyrocketed as the Union force waited for reinforcements.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Carrie scowled as Spencer drove her past the three old red-brick tobacco warehouses on Cary Street in Shockoe Bottom that comprised Castle Thunder Prison.  A wooden fence created a small prison yard with guards lining the top of the wall.  She knew prisoners were separated among the three buildings: Confederate deserters and political prisoners in one warehouse, black and female prisoners in another one, and Union deserters and prisoners of war in the last warehouse.  The prison was bulging.

Every time she thought of Opal’s cousin, Eddie, incarcerated there, Carrie felt sick.  She had tried many times to get word about him, but not even her father’s attempts created any results.  The only thing she’d been told through the years was that Eddie was still a prisoner.

She supposed she should be grateful for that - if it was true.  Carrie knew the execution rate was high.

Spencer glanced down, saw her scowl, and interpreted her thoughts.  “Any word on Eddie, Miss Carrie?”

Carrie sighed heavily.  “No.  It’s as if he doesn’t exist.”

“That might be a right good thing.”

“Why?”

Spencer shrugged.  “That Castle Thunder be a bad place, Miss Carrie.  I got friends telling me about the screams that come from there right often,” he said soberly.  “Theys don’t have no trouble putting the lash to peoples that don’t behave like theys want them to.  And theys the lucky ones.  Lots of gunshots coming from that place.”

Carrie blanched, knowing he was referring to prisoners being executed.  Shortly after Eddie had been arrested, the commander of the prison, Captain George Alexander, was brought up before the Confederate Congress for investigation because of reports of inhumane and cruel treatment that poured from those brick walls.  Carrie had so hoped something would be done, but the final determination supported his punishment methods because of the prisoners’ behavior.  His reign of terror was allowed to continue.

“What you reckon gonna happen with them prisoners when the Yankees break through our lines?” Spencer asked.

Carrie scowled again.  “I wish I could say they will all be free, but my father says there are plans to move them soon.”

“Where to?”

“He said they are emptying Castle Thunder and Libby Prison and taking the prisoners up to Danville.”
 

Eddie lifted his head wearily, listening once again for muted sounds of battle at the Petersburg lines.  As long as fighting continued, he could hope he would eventually get out of prison.  Already skinny when captured and tried for espionage, Eddie now resembled little more than a skeleton.  Skin hung loosely from his emaciated frame, and his eyes were sunk deep into his head.  

Two years in Castle Thunder had come close to breaking him, but visions of Fannie and the kids, their eyes shining with love for him, kept him hanging on.  He could only imagine how much his children had grown.  Susie would be a woman now.  Carl, Amber, and Sadie would be much bigger.  He lowered his head and stifled a groan as the old question arose; were his children alive?  Was Fannie alive?  Had the harsh winters that had almost done him in been more than they could handle without him there to help with food and shelter? 

The questions drove him crazy because he had no way of getting any answers. 

Suddenly he felt someone watching him.  The years had taught him to be aware when anyone focused attention on him.  He looked up and recognized a man who had been brought in a few days earlier.  He felt pity when he saw the raised welts on the man’s arms and legs that said the white man had taken the lash to him, but Eddie had survived for two years by staying totally to himself.  He hardly spoke to anyone - keeping his focus on his wife and children foremost in his mind.  He was starved for human connection, but he had seen the price prisoners paid when someone they had talked to got into trouble; everyone around that person paid the price.

Eddie was determined to stay alive and get out to experience the freedom waiting for him.  He kept to himself, but he listened; he knew the amendment to abolish slavery had passed, and he knew the Union was winning the war.  He listened for sounds of battle every moment and longed for the day he would be free.

Eddie opened his mouth to protest when the prisoner staring at him moved over to sit beside him, but pity kept Eddie silent.  He understood the horror and pain in the eyes watching him; he’d felt the lash himself when he had first arrived and would always carry the scars and memories from those first horrific weeks.

“Been here long?” the prisoner whispered.

“Two years.”

The other man gasped.  “Two years!  You been in Castle Thunder for two years?  And you still be alive?”

“It can be done,” Eddie said grimly.  If he was going to talk to him, he might as well know the man he was talking to.  “What’s your name?”

“Abraham.”

“What you in here for?”

“They trying to get slaves to be soldiers.  I wasn’t interested so they dumped me here.”

Eddie peered at him sharply.  “Soldiers?  The Rebels plan on giving guns to slaves and making them fight?”  This was a new one.

“It ain’t working too good,” Abraham said smugly.  “As soon as the word spread, most of the slaves still in Richmond decide it for sho time to leave so theys headed on up north.  They ain’t goin’ about it too smart.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked, starved for information.

“Oh, they passed the bill a couple weeks ago.  Lots of talk ‘bout how Johnny Reb was gonna get three hundred thousand slaves to put on the Rebel uniform and go off to fight.”

Eddie stared in disbelief.  “That be crazy.”

“Yep.  Specially how they go about it.  Right after they started recruitin’, a couple of slaves got caught breakin’ into a house.  They hung ‘em up.  Another one got caught with his white mistress; they whupped him almost to death.”

Eddie nodded grimly.  “Don’t surprise me none.”

“Yeah, well, that Governor Smith decided he would let them house breakin’ slaves stay alive.  He put them in the army instead.  All the boys I talked to said theys even less excited about fightin’ in this crazy war now they know fighting be a punishment.  Most of them decided it wadn’t no better than hanging, so they took off.  I figures the same way they does.”

“They making
free
blacks fight, too?”  Would any of his friends in the black quarter be left when he got out, or would they all take off up north to keep from having to fight?

“Ain’t been no talk of that.  They sure nuff figures they can make slaves fight, though.  Building them trenches be one thing.  Joining up and being shot at be another.  I didn’t take kindly to the idea. I be on my way out of town when I gots caught.  It be a heap easier than it used to be to escape, but I guess theys real desperate for soldiers.”