The nauseating stench of sulfur and blood hung heavy in the air as cannon fire thundered across the battlefield.
I sucked in a shaky breath as I waited with my men to attack, my heart pounding with the beat of the war drums.
The chaos of battle was all-consuming, engrossing and exhausting every sense I had, yet my focus remained razor-sharp.
“Captain Turner,” one of my younger men said as he trembled all over. “We should go now.”
“No,” I said with a firm shake of my head. “Not yet. They’re ready to fire on us. We go while they’re reloading.”
“But Ben–”
“I said no,” I hissed. “Hold.”
He rolled onto his back, his weapon clutched close to his chest as he continued to shake. It was his first battle, though it was hardly mine. I’d risen through the ranks of General Washington’s army quickly, not only loyal to the cause, but smart when it came to strategic moves.
Smoke wafted over us as more cannons blasted, threatening to make my ears bleed.
The noise spooked my newest recruit, and he rose, readying his weapon too soon.
The Redcoat front line fired, one of the bullets hitting their mark. I instinctively ducked as he took the bullet, falling backward next to me, dead instantly.
His eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing now.
My heart sank as I lost a man under my command, but I had more to lead and a battle to participate in.
“Now!” I cried, raising my sword in the air.
The soldiers under my command leapt to their feet and raced over the small hill we hid behind. The Brits sent their second line up to fire but we picked off several of them before they could get a round off.
The soldiers who missed their marks meant those lucky Redcoats got a few shots off, taking out some of my men.
Those who lived, including myself, charged closer and the fighting turned to hand-to-hand combat.
Smoke swept past us and confusion reigned as swords clashed, guns fired, and bayonets sliced at flesh.
I glanced around the battlefield, trying to assess the battle that waged around me when the retreat sounded.
“Fall back!” another patriot shouted. “Fall back!”
“Fall back!” I repeated to my men–what was left of them.
This battle had been an ambush with the British flanking us with far more men than our scouts had reported. We’d been tricked and bested.
We needed to preserve whatever men we had left to fight another day.
“Fall back!” I shouted again my heart thundering as I made the retreat call.
I waited until all of my men were behind me before I twisted to run. A bullet zipped past me, searing the skin of my upper arm as it ripped through my uniform.
Warm blood trickled down to my elbow as I raced away. Time seemed to stand still and the tree line seemed further than I recalled.
Every step I took, I feared would be my last. Another gun fired behind me, but missed its mark.
My breathing turned ragged as my eyes widened, and my heart hammered hard enough I thought it would break my ribs.
I spun and fired my weapon blindly, not hitting anything, but hoping to slow the advance of those who chased me.
It did little to stop the two Lobsterbacks who chased me.
I stumbled as I continued to stare behind me for a second too long.
I tripped and fell, my chin scraping against the cold dirt.
A flash of lightning lit the sky as I spun onto my back, kicking away from the two soldiers.
They stared behind me, their eyes wide before they backed up a few steps and raced away from me.
With a furrow of my brow, I lifted my chest, wondering what had spooked them. After a second, I figured it didn’t matter and scrambled to my feet.
By some grace, I’d managed to survive what I thought would surely be the end of me. It must have been my lucky day.
I twisted and raced away when another bullet fired.
Maybe I wouldn’t be so lucky, after all.
I hurried toward the trees, diving into the darkness they provided.
When I landed, I hit a hard, metallic surface, nothing like the dirt and mud of the battlefield. Cool air, a stark contrast to the heat outside, surrounded me. A dim blue light casted eerie shadows on the sleek metal floor. Strange symbols and glowing circles adorned the walls, unlike anything I'd ever seen. It was as if I'd stumbled into one of Mr. Franklin's wildest imaginings come to life.
My stomach lurched as I tried to understand what I’d landed on. A hand grasped my jacket and dragged me further into the contraption, my heart pounding in my ears. My breathing came in ragged gasps as a circular door snapped shut, cutting off any escape.
“Strap in,” a man’s voice said, and I struggled to understand what he was saying.
A steady hum grew louder, becoming nearly deafening. My gaze darted around whatever this thing was, both horrified and amazed.
Had I been shot? Was I hallucinating?
What in the world had my mind conjured up?
