Read War for Free Online

shattered.
    “Get down, you fool!”
    It was Schroeder.
    He pulled Jake to the floor.
    “AAAAAAGGHHHHH!”
    Platt was running through the house now. Toward the back door, musket drawn. His face was crimson, his eyes the size of baseballs.
    Deranged.
    “NO-O-O!” Schroeder yelled.
    “THEY KILLED JOHNNNNSONNNNNN …” Platt yelled.
    He sprinted into the backyard, firing into the trees.
    At least three Rebels fell. Two more rushed Platt from either side, aiming their muskets at him.
    Platt ducked. The shots crossed over his body. The two men lurched into the air, then fell to the ground, each the other man’s victim.
    Jake cringed.
    With a deafening BOOM, a nearby tree burst into flames.
    “RETREAT!” shouted Schroeder. “We’re outnumbered!”
    Morris headed for the front door.
    Schroeder lifted Overmyer.
    Jake linked his arm around Samuelson’s shoulders. But Samuelson was limp.
    “That’s … him!” Overmyer was pointing to Jake. His motions were feeble but his eyes sharp and accusing. “I saw him helping the Rebels. That’s the spy!”
    They’re playing right into his hand.

10
    “I T WAS A MISUNDERSTANDING,” Jake insisted. They were in the woods now. Almost to the camp. He and Harrington were struggling to drag Samuelson over the path. “When Samuelson comes to, he’ll tell you — ”
    “WHO ASKED YOU TO SPEAK?” shouted Schroeder from behind him.
    Any minute Jake expected the Rebels to fire. The escape from Hobson’s Corner had been slow going. Samuelson was unconscious and heavy. The others had gone on ahead to prepare the encampment for attack.
    But now they were approaching the ridge, and the Rebels hadn’t followed.
    The camp was in pandemonium. As they carefully moved Samuelson down the path, men were shouting instructions, loading muskets, bridling horses, shouting the news.
    Jake heard the same phrases over and over: one dead … two injured … town empty … don’t know how they got past … must have been tipped off … didn’t follow us … don’t know why.
    Jake knew why.
    They’re moving in from both sides now.
    They have us just where they want us.
    When they’ve gathered themselves within striking range, we’re dead.
    Now Orvis was rushing out of the supply cabin. “Is he … ?” he called out.
    “Not yet,” Jake replied.
    “I help.” Orvis nudged Jake aside, putting his arm around Samuelson.
    Suddenly Jake felt a hand grabbing the back of his collar. “This way, swamp rat.”
    Platt.
    Jake tried to protest, but Platt was pulling him across the camp, weaving through the panicked throng — and right into Edmonds’s tent.
    “Just try to escape,” Platt said, gripping his gun. “You’ll make me and my blunderbuss very happy.”
    “You need me out there,” Jake insisted. “I can help!”
    “The way you helped at Hobson’s Corner? The way you set us up? Why, I’d shoot you right here if n Edmonds didn’t say to keep you for him.”
    With that, Platt turned away and stood at attention, keeping sentry.
    Jake straightened his collar. The tent was large. No people. Just a table in the center, covered with a map.
    Jake moved closer.
    The map showed two long mountain ranges with a wide pass between them. In the pass was a big red circle. The camp.
    At the top of the map — north — the pass became a forest that eventually ended at a village, marked by crudely drawn houses and a church. Hobson’s Corner.
    From the south, large black arrows labeled with the word REBELS pointed into the pass.
    From the camp, blue arrows pointing south. Edmonds’s plan of attack.
    No post in the mountains. No guard watch to the east or west. No reconnaissance.
    This was amateurish.
    Stupid.
    Hobson’s Corner was wide open to a sneak attack.
    No wonder the Confederates got through.
    What was he thinking?
    “You left him in there ALONE?” thundered Edmonds’s voice.
    Jake spun around.
    Edmonds was barging into the tent. Wild-eyed, drenched with sweat. He pushed Jake aside and