“Our reputation precedes us, General,” Tom said.
“Perception is everything,” Imboden said.
“Perception is fact,” Tom said.
William Shriver, a Confederate sympathizer, greeted the general with open arms. It was his land they were on and he loved that they had come.
“Welcome to my home, General.”
“Thank you, sir,” Imboden said, over the cheering.
In contrast, Francis Shriver, William’s brother and a staunch Unionist, stayed in his house across the road. He was looking out his window at the commotion and wouldn’t come out.
Listening to the cheers, General Imboden had an inspirational moment. He took his oath very seriously and had a strong sense of duty. But he also had a code of honor. He knew the Articles of War and always adhered to the code of conduct. A weapon of this magnitude, with such destructive power, he felt constituted a war crime.
Suddenly, General Lee came through the screen door and stood on William’s front porch to greet the general.
Imboden’s mind was brought back into the moment. He dismounted and walked up to General Lee and shook his hand.
“Hopefully, General, this will be a more productive meeting then the last time we met,” Lee said.
“Yes, General, I brought the weapon up as per your request, but I must tell you, I don’t want to use it ever again.”
“What do you mean?” Lee asked.
“I had it tested. It was supposed to destroy a hotel, one building.” Imboden hesitated, to catch his breath.
“What are you saying?” Lee prompted.
“Mount Pleasant was destroyed, and all the residents killed. The whole town is gone with one shot from that thing out there. Imagine what it would do to a brigade or even a corps?”
“If that is the nature of the weapon, we will only need to demonstrate its unprecedented power,” Lee advised.
“It is of my opinion, we don’t use it. I believe we have a weapon here of supernatural power. Born out of pure evil,” Imboden said.
“It’s here. We will use it. Think about your country. With this weapon, we can have our own nation.”
“Then I request to be relieved of duty, sir,”
“Request denied.”
“But, sir, General Longstreet can take my place.”
“I have him maintaining our front lines. You are of great service to me, General. Please do not let me down.”
Imboden reached that nagging pivotal moment when duty and obeying orders were in conflict with his morale beliefs. Lee reached out his arm and put his hand on the young cavalier’s shoulder. Imboden was not happy about General Lee’s position, but he didn’t like arguing with his general either. “I’ll do my best, General.”
After the meeting, the cannon was taken to the high ground overlooking Big Pipe Creek. There, the Army of Northern Virginia waited for the Army of the Potomac.
***
The rain beat on the canvas cover like a tight drum. It had not let up all day. And the night wasn’t getting any better. Mike awoke in the back of the ambulance. He was the only one in there. He felt his left side. There was blood in his bandages and a pool of blood on the floorboard.
Mike unwrapped his bandages. When he got to the end, he pushed the bandage into his wound with his finger.
“Ouch, you son-of-a-bitch.”
Even though it hurt, he pushed the bandage little by little into his wound to stop the bleeding. When it seemed to stop, he wrapped the bandage around his waist and tied it off. Then he passed out.
The guards were under the wagon with their ponchos over them, trying to keep dry. The guards didn’t pay much attention to Mike since he was so badly wounded.
“Got your cards?”
“Yeah.”
“Low card digs the hole for this guy in the morning.”
“You have a bet.”
When Mike woke up the second time, he felt somewhat healthier. He looked around and once again he was by himself. He did not hear the guards under the wagon.
Mike felt the chance to escape. He tried to sit up, but felt a sharp pain on his left side and had to lie back down. He waited a moment for the pain to ease. He felt his wound—the bandages were wet, but the wound was not bleeding.
With determination Mike crawled to the back of the wagon and out into the rain. The rain felt good on his face. He tried to ease himself to the ground, but dropped like a rock and found himself lying in a foot of mud.
The guards heard a noise, but were looking the wrong way. Still unaware of what was happening, they went back to their cards.
Through the rain and darkness, Mike looked for the steam cannon. Although the rain blurred his vision, he managed to make out the shape of the smoke-stack. Then, foot by foot, and through excruciating pain, Mike crawled toward the machine. He got there after midnight and hid under the carriage, where he waited for dawn.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Sunday, July 5, 1863
In the wee hours of a rainy morning, the guards pushed each other to get up and check the prisoner.
“Go see if he’s dead.”
“No. You go see if he’s dead.”
“Pick a straw.”
“Okay, that sounds fair.”
“Shit.”
The loser threw off his poncho and got out from under the wagon. He smelled coffee brewing, but before he walked over for some, he checked inside the wagon to see if the prisoner had made it through the night. To his great surprise the prisoner was gone.
He sounded the alarm. “Sergeant of the guard! The prisoner is missing!”
His buddy came up with a thud, hitting his head getting out from under the wagon.
“You mean he escaped.”
“That’s what I mean.”
The sergeant got there with a squad of men.
“What do you have to report?”
“The prisoner is gone, sergeant.”
“What do you mean, gone?”
“He escaped.”
The sergeant turned to the squad.
“Find him. Don’t let him get away.”
Tom Treble came over to find out what the trouble was all about.
“The prisoner escaped,” the sergeant said.
“I knew I should have killed him,” Tom said. “Don’t let him near that gun.”
Mike was under the carriage of the steam cannon, lying in a puddle of water. It was more like a large rut. He could hear most of the conversation. He looked at the axles and saw that he could reach the rear axle with his feet and hold onto the front axle with his arms. He gave it a try and found that it caused severe pain. Can’t do that, he thought. He looked around for something else.
Soldiers were everywhere. Mike heard the guards walk over. They were close, looking around the apparatus. One guard knelt to the ground. Mike eased his head under the water and held his breath. The guard looked briefly under the carriage and stood. Mike came up for a breath.
Suddenly, Tom walked over and got down on his knees, bent over, and looked under. He leaned in and looked up under the floorboards. Tom did not see Mike. He got up and walked away.
Mike came up, gasping for breath, and in much pain.
I don’t think I could do that again.
In spite of the rain and overcast, it was getting brighter out. Mike looked across the field and saw that the Union Army had arrived on the opposite side of Big Pipe Creek and was taking up positions there.
***
Out of the blue, some guy with captain’s bars on his frock coat ordered, “Start the boiler.”
Tom Treble became enraged. He didn’t know they had let the fire go out.
“Why is the fire out?” Tom yelled.
“The rain, I suppose,” the captain said.
“This fire is never to be extinguished. How many times do I need to tell you dumb bastards?”
Tom pushed the captain aside and started the fire himself.
“Keep feeding it. Don’t let this go out a
gain,” Tom told the fireman.
The death machine began to make a loud-pitched, fiery noise as it built up pressure.
***
Sarah and Jenny walked past the Confederate soldiers like they belonged there and took refuge inside the flour mill. Sarah was peering out the window when she spied a man making his way to the mill. He seemed to conceal himself behind wagons and buildings as he made his way there.
“Someone’s coming,” Sarah said.
Jenny picked up an axe handle from a bin full of them and got behind the door. The man opened the door and stepped in. Jenny hit him with the axe handle right across his stomach. When he bent over, Sarah tackled him to the floor. Jenny raised the axe handle to deliver another blow when Sarah recognized who it was.
“Stop! It’s Ray,” Sarah yelled. She held up her hand to stop Jenny’s swing.
“Where are Mike and Charles?” Sarah asked.
“Charles is dead, but Mike must be alive. Guards are standing around a wagon. They’re guarding someone. Has to be Mike.”
“Poor Charles,” Jenny said.
“Is Michael hurt?” Sarah asked.
Ray looked at Jenny holding the axe handle. She slowly lowered it to the ground.
“Is he hurt?” Sarah repeated.
“Yes. I think. I’m not sure. I couldn’t get that close,” Ray said.
Sarah got a sick feeling deep in her stomach.
“They seem to be looking for someone or something now,” Ray said.
“Yes, If he’s out there, you can bet he’s working on a way to destroy that gun,” Sarah said.
Sarah helped Ray off the floor and walked to the window. Jenny joined them. While peering outside, they heard a loud noise coming from the steam cannon. They had started the death machine’s fiery blast furnace.
“We need to help him,” Sarah said.
“How do you propose we do that?” Ray asked.
“With the help of Imboden,” Sarah said.
“What! What makes you think he’ll help us?” Ray asked.
“You saw the way he reacted when Mount Pleasant was destroyed. He was appalled and pushed Tom Treble away. I think he’ll help us,” Sarah said.
“How do you figure we approach him?” Ray asked.
“Leave that to me,” Jenny said.
***
Mike held his ears, guarding his hearing from the high-pitched noise while he lay under the steam cannon. When the noise stopped, his mind seemed to clear and his pain seemed to be gone. He looked out from under the carriage and saw Tom walking away, flinging his arms in the air.
Mike rolled out from under the carriage making sure he was covered in mud. He stayed low and used the mud as camouflage. He hoped that it would conceal him.
Suddenly, two guards came around the corner of a wagon. Mike rolled back under the carriage and hoped they hadn’t seen him. He aggravated his wound and he was in pain once more.
***
Jenny dusted herself off and straightened the wrinkles in her dress. Then she combed her auburn hair with a wooden comb she found on a table in the mill. She pinched her cheeks for some rose color—winked her green eyes and said, “How do I look?”
Sarah put some final touches on her dress and said, “You look great.”
“I agree.” Ray choked out the words.
“The general is probably in the main house across the street there.” Sarah pointed to the big house with the white picket fence around it.
“There’s General Imboden now,” Jenny said.
General Imboden stepped out onto the large front porch to have a smoke.
“Just walk right up to him and tell him that you want to talk to him about a very important matter of life and death,” Sarah said.
“What if he won’t listen to me?”
“Tell him you witnessed the power of the gun. And that you saw how it destroyed the town of Mount Pleasant. That should get his attention,” Sarah said.
“What then?”
“Tell him that you know that he is conflicted about the gun. Ask him what God would want him to do. Then ask him to help us destroy it,” Sarah instructed. “Whatever you do, don’t bring him in here.”
“Okay, wish me luck,” Jenny said.
“Can I kiss you for luck?” Ray asked.
“Good Lord. Okay, for luck.” Jenny closed her eyes and leaned in for Ray to kiss her.
Ray kissed her tenderly on the lips.
“I didn’t say on the mouth!” Jenny swung away and spit on the floor.
“I thought we were having a moment,” Ray said.
“Ray, when we go out there, I’ll need you to get Michael and the wagon. Meet us on the road leaving the village.”
“Sure... no problem there.”
“Ray, he’s your best friend.”
“I can do it... I think,” Ray stuttered.
“Are you ready, Jenny?” Sarah asked.
“Here goes nothing,” Jenny said, and walked out the door.
Jenny walked as planned right up to General Imboden.
Imboden turned with a smile. “May I help you ma’am?”
“Yes, may I have a word with you, my dear general?” Jenny said in her best southern belle accent.
“Why yes, ma’am, you may.” The general smiled in delight that this ravishing creature would want to spend a moment of time with him. He turned and waved off his guard.
When Jenny had his ear, she got serious and dropped the accent. “General, I witnessed the horror of what that gun can do. I witnessed the community of Mount Pleasant being destroyed.”
“What are you talking about?” The general was taken back. This moment was not turning out the way he had hoped.
“It was blasphemy. It went against God. It’s the work of the devil. I know you feel the same.”
“What can I do about it?”
“My friends and I are here to stop that gun from destroying another town and we need your help.”
“You’re a spy. I could have you arrested. Where are these friends of yours?” General Imboden looked around the area.
“General, don’t you understand? We our doing God’s work and I’m asking for your help.”
General Imboden hesitated. “I can’t help you.”
“My friends are counting on you. God is counting on you.”
“Take me to these friends of yours.”
“I can’t do that,” Jenny said.
“Then I advise you to turn around and walk away.”
Jenny knew she couldn’t do that. “Okay, walk with me.” She started back toward the mill.
“What the hell is she doing? You said don’t bring him here,” Ray said.
“It’s okay,” Sarah said.
The door opened and in walked Jenny with General Imboden in tow. He was now face to face with would-be saboteurs.
“Would one of you like to explain?” Imboden said.
“Yes, General. I can explain,” Sarah said.
***
Peering from under the carriage and not seeing anyone, Mike rolled out from under the steam cannon. Staying low, he looked around once more. Pain shot through his left side, making him turn over on his back and rest.
Then he saw the gauge. It was the pressure gauge. And that was when he remembered the last words that Charles Dickinson muttered right before he died: “Pressure.”
Mike knew exactly what Charles meant now. It was a steam gun and it needed pressure to work. Too much pressure, and like all steam engines, you had a bomb.
Mike reached for the pressure gauge knob, but quickly pulled his hand back when he heard the door to the mill slap open. Out walked an officer. Right behind the officer were two women. Following them was a smaller man.
It was General Imboden with Sarah, Jenny, and Ray.
“You do realize, to disobey a direct order from General Lee, is treason,” Imboden told Sarah.
“But General, you would not be disobeying any orders if, by accident, the gun got broken,” Sarah explain
ed.
“An accident you say?” At that moment Imboden saw Mike reaching for the knob.
“Hey there—you! What do you think you’re doing?” Imboden yelled.
Sarah grabbed Imboden’s arm. “That’s Michael! He’s with us.”
At the same moment, Tom Treble, standing only yards away, heard the commotion. He turned to see Mike lying on the ground next to the steam cannon.
“You bastard!” Tom yelled, and then bolted toward him. General Imboden saw Tom running towards Mike while pulling out his bayonet. Imboden turned to the women and said, “Get away from here.” He turned and ran toward Tom.
Imboden caught Tom Treble midway and stopped him, but Tom Treble was in a rage and pushed Imboden to the ground and pointed the bayonet at his face and said, “You get away from here.”
Other Confederate soldiers heard the commotion and came to Imboden’s aid.
Mike reached over in pain to the pressure knob and wrapped his hand around it.
Tom saw Mike grab the knob and yelled, “No, you-son-of-a-bitch!”
General Imboden got up from the ground and brushed himself off. “Arrest this man,” he ordered the soldiers.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Sunday, July 5, 1863
The steam cannon continued to make groaning noises as the pressure gauge shot up to critical. The needle was buried deep into the red zone.
Obeying General Imboden’s orders, a squad of soldiers grabbed Tom, who started to fight against them. The more Tom struggled, the more the soldiers beat him. Mike now only focused on the pressure gauge, cranked the knob as far as it would turn.
“Thanks for Plan B, Charles,” Mike whispered and fell back to the ground.
General Imboden came to Mike, who was lying on the ground, while Tom was still fighting with the soldiers.
“We need to get to the water,” Mike whispered in desperation.
General Imboden glanced at the pressure gauge rising then looked over at Big Pike Creek. The banks of the stream were only thirty yards away.
Suddenly, a rumbling began and the steam gun started to make a loud, awful noise. Mike grabbed Imboden by the lapel and pulled him closer. “It’s going to go boom any second.”
Death Machine Page 18