“I think he wants a little beating before we string him upside down, eh boys?” he goaded, and unsurprisingly received cheers. He let loose a hand, holding me up with an amazing show of strength with one fist only, his other fist winding back to make the blow. I squeezed my eyes tight, trying not to cry.
“Oof!”
Suddenly I was plummeting to the ground, where I landed hard on my hip and scooted back to the cover of the tree without looking up. I began to pat down my body, trying to discern how I had made such a noise…when I realized it wasn’t me that had made it. Glancing up, I watched in awe as Bastian, whose initial hit had already succeeded in forcing the man to the ground, violently kicked him in the stomach. When the man stopped moving, but was clearly still conscious, Bastian glared at the group at large.
“We are soldiers of the same side,” he said loudly, his voice clear, demanding no argument. “It is beneath you to treat any living creature in such a way, much less your fellow man. If I catch any of you behaving this way again, it will be reported and I will make absolutely certain that each of you pays. We’re fighting a war, if you’ve forgotten,” he finished, properly shaming them all. He stood over the man on the ground, glaring them down until his drunken friends were able to heft him up and drag him away. Then he turned to me.
“You alright, boy?”
There was no hiding it now. I waited as his eyes combed over my face, realization and horror dawning simultaneously. He dropped down by my side and began to inspect my face, his fingers holding my chin this way and that as he looked for bruises and cuts. He said nothing, though the fire in his eyes spoke volumes.
Bastian was furious.
Finally, he spoke, his voice dangerous and low.
“What have you done, J?” He sat back on his heels and stared at me in bewildered disbelief. Suddenly my reasons for enlisting seemed stupid, and I didn’t want to tell him why. So I stuck to the basics.
“I won’t leave my brother,” I said truthfully. “He’s all I have. And Miss Jean told me to go. She…she wouldn’t have it otherwise,” I stumbled over my words, trying to convey that she would have made my life a living hell without insulting his cousin. He ran a calloused hand through his thick blonde hair and gazed up into the leaves, dancing carelessly above us as though our lives weren’t about to be torn apart.
“I’m sending you home tomorrow,” he said finally, not looking at me. “You’ll have to keep a bonnet on tight until your hair grows back, but you can do it.”
“No!” I cried, my hands flying to my mouth as though to take back my own disobedience. There was no changing the fact that Bastian was my master, even if as soldiers we were technically equals in this arena. His responding look brooked no argument, and I crossed my arms like the small child everyone believed me to be.
“J, I’m not doing this to be mean. If you’ve been here these past few weeks,” he looked me up and down, his expression incredulous, “and it would seem that you have, you’ll never be able to keep up this façade. What happens when we all find a creek and need to bathe? Jesus in heaven, you’ve probably already seen everyone here naked!” he stood and began to pace. I sat and watched him struggle with my choice, fascinated. He really was very handsome, and had just saved me from a beating.
But he wasn’t going to stop me from fighting as a soldier.
I allowed him to pace and go over all the horrifying things I must have just gone through as a delicate lady being exposed to a man’s world. It was cute how he thought I had never experienced anything like it before. I mean, don’t get me wrong…there was a lot that I wish I could have unseen by that point, but I was an overworked servant in a massive household before. I knew how to suffer in silence and carry on.
“Where are you sleeping?” his eyes were bulging out of his face by this point. It was a little funny, even if I knew I faced the wrath of my brother next. I decided to go for casual.
“Oh, just toward the back end, with a couple of nice blokes. Really, they don’t hog the bed or anything,” I said, cheeky. Since when was I allowed to be cheeky? Pretty much since the moment I began to load my weapon faster than everyone else, I would say. To be honest, even though our freedoms were taken, I had never had them anyway. It was nice to be able to work my way to a better level, rather than being held underwater by a certain pompous blonde. I would rather walk first line into battle than go back to the house, and I would be damned if Bastian thought he could make me.
Of course, he didn’t know that. So I let him believe that he had the upper hand. Leaning down, he offered his forearm to me to rise, and, in as masculine a way possible, I grasped it and heaved myself up, brushing the dust from my uniform. We made our way somberly through the camp to where Bastian and Jack had been staying. Bastian led me to another outcropping of trees.
“Stay here while I go get your brother. He’s not going to be happy about this…” he warned, striding back towards the tents. I stood by the tree, affecting nonchalance, but dread settled like a heavy rock in my stomach. Would Jack really be that furious with me? And what would I do about it, if he begged me to go home? Could I listen, knowing what waited for me there—a life under the polished fist of Miss Jean, never knowing if Jack would make it home to me? I couldn’t even stomach the thought of it.
“What is it?” I heard Jack’s voice, worried. “What’s happened?”
He manifested before me, freezing instantly as he took me in.
“No…” he whispered. His fists began to clench. I was really in for it now. It took him two strides to make it to me, his hands wrapped around my arms in a vice-like grip of fiery anger, and I winced.
“What have you done, J? What have you done?” he asked, running a hand through my jaggedly cut locks at the base of my neck.
“I’m fighting alongside you,” I said, matter-of-factly. He barked out an incredulous laugh.
“Are you kidding me? I’m not putting your life on the line! You’re a…woman,” he dropped his voice to a whispered hiss. “You wouldn’t last a day out there,” he finished, officially pissing me off.
“I’ve lasted three weeks out here…you think it’ll be that much different?” I bit back.
“Yes, I do!” he kept hissing. I couldn’t believe my brother would say such things considering he had just told me weeks ago how we were Irish survivors.
“I’m reporting you,” he said, dropping his hands and getting ready to walk toward the officer’s tent. “You’re going home, and I hope the flogging you get there teaches you a lesson.”
“Wait,” Bastian said, and our pair of matching blue eyes both swung at him. He looked at Jack, defeated.
“We can’t do that. There could be consequences beyond our control that could put her in more harm if we do,” he said reasonably.
“We still have the wagon,” he continued. “We can make an excuse to send her back home with it first thing tomorrow…we’ll think of something. I just think we should be stealthy about it.”
“Bastian, she’s already in the books. That would make her a deserter,” Jack protested. Bastian shook his head.
“That would make whatever male name she gave them a deserter, not her. Please, Jack. You know I’m right about this.”
Jack stood with his hands in tight fists, his knuckles bone white. Finally he looked back at me, and our eyes locked in a battle I knew he would not win.
“Fine. Let’s get you to our tent tonight, and we’ll ship you back first thing in the morning,” he sighed, turning away. “I just can’t believe you would do something like this, J. I love you too much for anything bad to ever happen to you.”
“And is it so wrong that I should feel the same?” I asked softly, wishing I could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. Knowing how funny that would look, I stood, vulnerable and helpless, and yet still somehow a Confederate soldier. His shoulders lowered, and I watched the anger drain from him as he finally released his hands. Not bothering to turn back to look at me, he mumbled, “No, I suppose i
t isn’t so wrong at that.”
Darkness was settling on the camp, soldiers making their way to their hard, uncomfortable beds. Bastian sighed.
“Well I suppose you’ve seen and done enough that wouldn’t do for a lady. Sleeping safely with us can’t be that much of a sin now,” he said. I felt like a fallen woman, as though I had become some kind of prostitute simply for taking steps to protect my brother by his side. I grew resentful for the way I was treated by these two men, who I was sure I could outmatch in a shooting contest.
“I guess so,” I said blandly, allowing him to lead me to their tent. My brother had disappeared, leaving me and Sebastian alone to stand awkwardly together in silence. I was relieved when I saw his shadowy figure stalking toward us, all my belongings wrapped tightly in his arms.
“Your things, Private Sullivan,” he ground out through clenched teeth. Briskly, I grabbed them from him and shouldered them into the tent. I wanted him to see that I was capable, that I had already passed the test. Laying out my blanket at the furthest most edge, I waited for my brother and Bastian to appear, the reality of what the next day would bring settling heavily on my shoulders. As the darkness turned to black, I could hear their muffled conversation outside, though I couldn’t make out any words. Stubbornly, I turned my back against the tent and faced the cloth wall, waiting. When I finally heard them slink in, I tensed, but said nothing.
I felt Jack slide in and lay on his back by my side. It was just the three of us in there, and the tension was as thick as a cream soup, the pressure to scream sitting heavily on my chest. That burdensome silence held out until I could hear them both breathing deeply, and I allowed myself to relax. Somehow, someway, I was going to have to thwart their plans.
But that was something I would have to think about in the morning.
***
The sound of wildly ringing bells and shouts tapped at the outer wall of my unconscious mind, slowly bringing me back to the world of the living.
“We’ve been deployed! Everyone wake up and pack up—we’ll stop for breakfast on the road!”
It was barely first light. I stretched my sore muscles and rolled over, colliding with the now muscular body of my brother. Both of us sat up abruptly and stared at each other in disbelief. Finally, I smirked.
“Guess I’m not going home after all,” I said, goading him. His eyebrows knit, and I could see him processing the changes in me—the fire that had been kept burning low all these years. I saw the exact moment that he gave in, and saw me as an equal. He held out his hand.
“For Ireland?”
I grasped it firmly, and we shared our renewed bond with joy, albeit a joy tinged with apprehension. None of us were soldiers, really…and we were walking into a war with elementary fighting skills.
“For Ireland,” I declared. And that was that. Bastian stared at us curiously, but said nothing. It seemed that his relationship with my brother was so respectful that he immediately got on board, and he quietly packed up his own bag and exited the tent, waiting for us to come out so he could pack it up to carry. I hefted my load onto my shoulders, playing with the strap of my bag until it sat comfortably. We were lined up single file…and then the walking began.
Fun fact about The Civil War number 487: most of it was spent walking.
We took trails that were overgrown with forest and caked in mud. The concept of cleanliness became a distant memory. With the heat of summer bearing down upon us, it was more comfortable to sleep out under the stars, and after a long day of walking I would lie out and stare up at the inky black sky with little holes poked into it, sprinkling heaven’s light for us to see. Jack and Bastian did a great job of spreading word that I was Jack’s younger brother, which was why I didn’t have a beard like everyone else. Our uniforms became tattered; our shoes became worn.
After walking for so long in the heat, my sweaty feet began to blister. I could feel the little bubbles of pain pressing against my shoes over and over and over as we walked and walked. Halfway through the day, I felt them burst and fill my shoes with fluid and blood, pain shooting up my legs with each step…and still we walked on. Jack and I became great at hiding my bathing rituals, and I found that spending time together as accepted equals deepened our familial connection. I grew to care for Bastian, too, as I watched the way he treated my brother, offering his friendship while asking for nothing in return. The best part was that he began to do the same with me, tossing little jokes my way as we marched and marched and marched.
Still, it was grueling. Food rations were handed out in an irrational manner that resulted in us running out of provisions with no hope of receiving more. Anyone with hunting skills became everyone’s best friend, and my ability to find herbs along the side of the path to provide some flavor made me popular, too. Generally, when anything seemed effeminate about me, Bastian stared down the man who mentioned it, and it was never brought up again.
I was breathing in the clean scent of the forest as we walked one afternoon when our scout came running back, frantic.
Union soldiers. A couple hundred yards ahead.
I was surprised at how afraid I became in that instant—cold dread sank straight through my battered, bloody toes. We all began to prep our weapons, and I stared at my dirty reflection in the knife tip of my musket. Did I really have it in me to stab a stranger with this? To take a life for a cause I had no actual ties to? I glanced around, seeing the somber, determined faces of the men around me. Though we knew little and were already half-starved, no one looked prepared to run from our first battle. The mood turned into an electric charge as we made our way the distance it took to get to an open field, where a line of blue uniforms stood waiting on the other side.
Everything seems so much sharper in the minutes before you think you’re about to die. I could smell the earthy pitch of grass that stretched before us, the oil and sweat that was the cologne of every man. Our line folded out to match theirs, a faded gray compared to their sharp blue dyes. The three of us were planted in the third row, much to my relief. I let out a breath that wanted to be held. And we stood, and we waited. And they waited.
And suddenly, some unseen and unheard alarm went off, and they charged at us. I allowed a roar to rise up from the pit of my stomach and out toward my enemy, who had until now never had a face. From the corner of my eye, I made sure that Jack and Bastian stayed beside me, our legs sprinting in perfect unison, my torn up feet all but forgotten. As we were nearly upon the Yankee soldiers, I heard distant blasts, and seconds later the ground around us began to erupt, sending men’s bodies flying in every direction.
They were using cannons to blast us from the air, even as their own men continued to rush forward. Men from the front line held their guns at the ready and began to send forth volleys of bullets, soldiers of both sides dropping like flies all around us and crying out in pain. By the time we finally reached the opposing line, a good chunk of our men had been wounded or killed.
“Get behind me!” Jack screamed, and I fell back a few paces and obeyed. I watched as he shot his only bullet before stabbing and hacking away at the piles of Union soldiers that had fallen upon us and all around us. Bastian placed himself at my side, making us a formidable triangle, stabbing and hacking away. A Yankee sprinted right for me, and without thinking I pulled the trigger of my gun and watched him fly to the ground, his insides pouring out from the middle.
That was the moment when the reality of war really sank in for me. I wish I could tell you that I remember the entire battle with perfect clarity, but, in all honesty, my intense focus on simply surviving is all I can really remember. It was complete chaos…complete, murderous chaos. Blood and guts spattered over our faces as we stabbed and hacked, both sides tiring out and diminishing. Still, our stamina outlasted theirs in that fight, and we beat them back slowly and meticulously. I could feel the battle nearing its end as they began to retreat into the woods, and allowed the smallest sliver of relief to sneak into my heart. I looked at Jack, and we a
llowed ourselves to grin at one another…then there was a gunshot.
His face crumbled in shock and pain. I fell with him to the ground, my hands drenched in his precious blood…the blood of our family. Our comrades were chasing the Yankees into the woods, and some of them began to erupt in cheers at the victory. Bastian crouched on Jack’s other side as he too sank to the ground, his eyes wild with panic. On his back, Jack coughed up a chunk of blood, and I wiped it away with my sleeve…a gesture that felt oddly familiar. I shivered.
“Jack, no, please…” I begged, wiping at his face with my blood-smeared hands, not knowing what else to do. Medical knowledge wasn’t exactly prevalent back then. His eyes were frantically searching around until they found my face, and I didn’t let them go. I heard Bastian cry out for help, for a medic somewhere…and no one came. We sat on either side of Jack, his breath labored. He coughed up more blood, and I continued to wipe it away with my oversized sleeve.
“J…” he moaned, wincing in pain as his life slowly bled from him.
“What? What is it? Please tell me what I can do, Jack,” I cried, hot tears leaving streaks down my dirty, blood-soaked face.
“Be strong…you were always so strong…” his body convulsed as it entered its final moments of life. This time he looked to Bastian.
“Take care of her…please…promise me,” he said fiercely. Bastian grasped his hand firmly, his eyes moist with his own unshed tears.
“I promise,” he choked. “You’re…you’re my best friend, Jack. What will we do without you?”
Jack’s body began to relax, his eyes distancing themselves from us, his soul preparing to depart. He moved his mouth as though to answer, until his body went still, and the light left his eyes. There are times in your life when the world around you dissolves, and you sit in a bubble, tucked away from anyone else around you. As Bastian and I sat and wept over the body of my brother, time froze, and no one else existed in that moment. I held a hand over my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, as though blocking the sight would undo what had been done. One bullet was all it took. One battle.
Past Lives Page 11