***
The battlefield held an eerie calm. The ground, dark with scorched patches of burned earth where wagons had exploded into bits held a harsh reality. Debris littered the area. Scattered everywhere were the remains of metal, wood, and clothing, as well as men's bones.
Standing there, Ty recalled the awful sound of the first explosion, which had taken out the last wagon in the supply line. He could still hear the anguished screams of his men.
Immediately, he'd given the order to take cover as snipers began picking off the Rebels one by one. With no idea where the shots were coming from, Ty had ordered none of his men waste ammunition until they could pinpoint their targets.
He bore down on the memory of the hot metal penetrating his thigh. Pain, the likes of which he'd never experienced, ripped him open in a flash of light mixed with a horrible burning. Everything began to move in slow motion afterward. Quelling the panic, which ensued, proved futile. One after another, the explosions continued. His men were calling for help while gunfire was surrounding them. The showers of fire debris raining down on them mixed with the blood proved too much.
Dropping to his knees, Ty banked a hand on either side of his head to block the sounds. The turmoil grew in intensity. Clutching at his head, he wished for peace.
The hand on his shoulder had him jerking around. Automatically he reached for his revolver, which wasn't there.
"Where'd you come from?" He hated the pain in his voice.
"I followed you," the old woman said. "You shouldn't be out here, Lieutenant." She held out her hand. "Here, let me take you back."
Ty jerked back. "Who are you?"
"A friend."
His mind fought with the reality of her words. His immersion in the horror of the battle, the realization that the sights and sounds were nothing more than nightmares took a minute to process. Slowly he stood. With the appearance of a small child, he took her hand letting her take him back.
The Lady in the Mist (The Western Werewolf Legend #1) Page 10