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War provokes so much anarchy and unnecessary atrocities... :(

Whae be maeking thaem to mispronounce thae worts?

Very true, but it is insane and evil men like Evan Harris that is the worst that war breeds, especially off the battlefield.

A great update! Good to see them barely escape... but where to now? Back home with their parents or else where?

Thanks. And well, I guess the next update will cover what you want to know. :p

Good to see that the children escaped, but unless Harris and his thugs are dealt with, there won't be a safe place for them to run.

Indeed, not sure if I should be happy or sad to say that the inevitable showdown between Smith and Harris is quickly coming, much like a giant storm. And then... well I think you know what that means. I guess I'm a bit of both. :rolleyes:
 
Chapter Nine: The Last Battle

Chapter Nine

~ Outskirts of Clinch Mountain, Tennessee.

By now it was early February, Tom had managed to find a small road that apparently leads north into Kentucky and has been traveling it for a few miles a day while battling the frigid winter. Tom was settled at the moment in an abandoned shack on the side of the road, although not in suitable condition, the still viable fireplace and the moderately closed in walls allowed for the temperature not to drop under 50 degrees on most occasions. Tom had spent the last few days inside the shack that was nearby both a stream and larger river able to supply him with possible fish for food.

Tom sat next to the small fireplace and pulled out a gutted-fish that he had caught a day or two ago. He placed it on one of the many old plates that remained in the shack and bit into it; he immediately made a sour face and spat some of it out. “I can’t imagine how people could eat fish all the time,” he mumbled to himself, whipping his face at the same time in disgust and chagrin. He walked over to Ol’ Suzy his horse that he kept inside with him and feeding her with any sign of vegetation. “You probably have better food than I do,” he said to the horse that was worn out and tired of traveling in the cold winter.

Tom walked outside where the snow was falling. He looked up in the air and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and giving a pray before going back inside.

Come morning Tom packed what few belongings he had and made his way down the road once again abandoning the shack he had spent the last few days in. The hardy soldier seemed to have determination once again; otherwise he would have most likely have died in such conditions that few other men could survive in. He was however, very faint and having troublesome times while riding, sometimes dazing off in the process and falling off the horse only to pick himself up again and proceed. The water he had was freezing, and sometimes frozen inside his canteen; not to mention it was usually melted ice he had collected from the frozen creek and riverbeds that weren’t well purified or clean.

Day by day passed as he continued through the backwoods of Tennessee before reaching a small village; Tom rode into town and then collapsed in the center of the village. Inside a house a small girl called out for her father to tell him about what happened outside. From the house, an older man appeared wearing glasses and called out for his son, “Jeremiah come quickly!” The man and his son rushed outside to pick Tom off the ground and give his horse a suitable place to rest. Inside the house Tom was wrapped in wool blankets and put next to the fireplace.

In the morning he awoke to the old man stirring a soup or stew at the fire pit, “So you awake soldier, are you alright?”

“Soldier? Hmm, where am I?”

“You’re in the small village of New Brighton Kentuka. And I knows you to be a soldier cause of the canteen you had on you, only Union soldiers or maybe some Dixies carry them on themselves. Where you come from may I ask?”

Tom felt his head, “Kentucky?”

“Alright, where in Kentucka?” the man asked him.

“No, no, no. You said I’m in Kentucky?” Tom questioned.

“Yes sar, you in New Brighton Kentucka soldier.”

“I’m from Wilson’s Creek, and I was a Union soldier,” Tom started.

“Wilson’s Creek, now that’s a place I haven’t been too in quite some time. Maybe only 50 or so miles from here I reckon, to the northwest. You say you was a Union soldier, what happened, desert, captured and escaped?”

“I was captured at the Battle of Clinch Mountain, managed to get away and now I’m trying to find General Banks’ Army somewhere in Kentucky.”

“Father, father!” called out his son as he still stirred the soup.

“Quiet Jeremiah, the soldier just awoke. He’s Union.”

“Yankee,” the boy said, “I really don’t mind ‘em. Have some of the soup. I think my Ma and sis would like to meet you but they’s over at Madam Wright’s.”

“Soldier…”

“Tom,” Tom interrupted the man to make a point on his name.

“Soldier Tom, I would have some of the soup, give you some health after being in the winters for as long as you were. And don’t worry about your horse; she’s in the stables I got out back.”

“Thank you,” Tom said. Tom spent the good portion of the day on the couch still unable to muster up the strength to move. The man revealed himself to be Jeremiah just like his son. Tom talked to the man about the war as he was curious to know what was going on. Outside of the of the knowledge that Civil War had begun, the man and the town was largely cut-off from the rest of the state and didn’t know much of what was going on in the war. Tom told him what he knew to be true and discussed the battles that he had been a part of in great detail, making up some lies however about his capture during the Battle of Clinch Mountain.

It wasn’t the man who was most fascinated by the war stories, but it was his son that was taking a heavy liking of the war stories that Tom was telling. He seemed to be engaged on nothing else but gathering every last detail that Tom was saying and begging for more at times, only to be quieted by his father for being impolite.

“Well Soldier Tom, I would suggest that you stay with us for the moment, then when you’re healthy enough then I would say you should go out and try and find your fellow soldiers.”

~ Wilson’s Creek, Kentucky.

“Bill,” Mr. Carlisle said to his friend Mr. Smith, “I think you need to come outside for a moment.”

“Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith, look outside; I think that be your kids,” Leslie Carlisle sharply said pointing out the window.

“Rebecca, come quickly and come outside!” Mr. Smith yelled.

“Excuse me Mary,” she said to Mrs. Carlisle as she got up from her seat and set down her knitting set to go outside. “What is it Bill?” she asked, and then her jaw dropped when she saw her sister Mary with her kids in front of her.

“Please forgive me,” Mary said to Mr. Smith, “Jeb led the way…”

“What happened, why are you here?” Mr. Smith asked as Mr. Carlisle and his son Leslie walked outside, soon to be followed by his wife.

“I don’t know, random attack maybe but someone came to my home sometime after you left and burned it to the ground. I heard them…”

“It was Evan Harris pa,” Jeb interrupted, “he knew we was there pa, he just did. I don’t know how, he just did and he tried to kill Aunt Mary and everyone.”

“Just go inside,” Mr. Smith told Jeb and his children.

“What’s goin’ on Jeb?” Leslie asked him.

“Not really sure I reckon,” Jeb responded.

Mr. Smith turned to Mary, “Is that all true?”

“Yes,” she said, “I don’t know why or how but that’s what Jeb has been saying ever since we’ve been traveling here.”

“He’sa said something about trying to kill you sar,” Benjamin said from the wagon.

“Okay, okay, the most important thing is that you’re alright. Do you have a place to stay?”

“I couldn’t drop myself onto you like that. I’ll just go to my parents house about 50 miles west of here, I just had to make sure your kids got home safe to you.”
 
Good to see that the Smith children have reached a relative safe haven. The way Tom is going, I'm not sure that he'll be in any condition to help if and when he makes it home.

Let me just say that Tom is going to play a pivatol part in the end, but in what ways... I'm the only one who currently knows that! :p

How many Celsius is that 50?

Why oh why, silly me :eek:o, I forgot that we Americans don't use degrees celsius. In that case, 50 F is, I believe like 9-10 C.
 
@ Enewald: Perhaps not to you, but to some may think that is freezing! :p

@ Erie_Patriot: I know a lot of people down south and they think the moment it drops below 60 it is a cold day. Regardless, it's all a matter of preference.

@ Hardraade: Indeed that was the point. With a stable temperature and a decent shack, he was able to warm enough to survive multiple nights in the freezing winter in and around Tennessee and Kentucky.
 
Chapter Nine

~ March, 1862.

Tom had left the small village southwest of his home and was heading out back to his home, over the fields and across the plains he rode on the mission to reach home once again.

Back in Wilson’s Creek, Evan Harris was pacing inside his saloon headquarters thinking of an idea of getting Mr. Smith out of the Carlisle Household and into the town. Evan left the saloon and stood outside in the muddy roads now that the winter snow had, for the most part, melted. Peter Savage walked beside him talking into his ear, Evan continuing to walk down the streets with the townsfolk around him putting the finishing touches on their homes and businesses that had been ruined during the Battle of Wilson’s Creek in the winter.

Mr. Page walked up to him, “I have all the wood you asked for Mr. Harris,” he told him.

“Very good, Peter, make sure Mr. Page gets his payment,” Evan said to Peter.

“Of course,” said Peter reaching into his pocket and flipping Mr. Page a single golden coin.

“I thought…” Mr. Page began.

“Well we changed our minds. Now you get to know that you have my gratitude and respect rather than some gold,” smiled Evan Harris as Mr. Page walked back to his farmhouse on the outskirts of the town.

Evan Harris sighed, “You Peter, I’m on the verge of just sending every last man over to finish the job.”

“With all due respect Evan,” Peter began, “Why should we worry about him?”

“I reckon you don’t understand my goal here, it is to have complete and utter authority in this town, and then we can proceed in declaring succession from Kentucky with the neighboring counties that we’ve discussed with the other mayors and politicians back in winter. If a single family, let alone a man who dares to fight me every step of the way; well, we need to get rid of him or there may be other problems that come up in the near future, leave it at that,” Evan replied.

Peter looked down at the mud on his boots, “Well, I think you just don’t like him.”

Evan glanced over at Peter, “That may have to do with it a little bit I reckon,” Evan said.

As nightfall approached the town, the Carlisle’s and Smith’s were hard at work at the Smith household repairing the damages sustained during the winter; but as night approached they proceeded in returning to the Carlisle home to spend the night, knowing quite well that the night wasn’t a safe time to be outside in the open plains with Evan’s men all over the place.

Jeb retired to the room with Leslie Carlisle where the two best friends had held countless hours even days of discussion on the war and the whereabouts of both his brothers Tom and Bill. As the moon took full control of the sky, Jeb turned over to Leslie.

“Do you ever get those feelings that something bad is going to happen to someone you know or love?” Jeb asked.

“Sometimes, why do you ask?” Leslie replied.

“I don’t know I reckon; I just have that feeling right now in my stomach. For some odd reason, I feel like it’s Tom or Bill,” Jeb answered.

“Are you crazy?” Leslie asked him after hearing Jeb’s answered. Jeb got out of the makeshift bed and walked over to the window. “What the hell are you doing?” Leslie asked him.

“I’m going out, I’m going to go off to town,” Jeb answered.

“Are you crazy? Jeb listen to me, your pa said not to go off to town and if you go I’m going to get blamed for it.” Leslie said aloud.

“I’m sorry but I’m going, I just have that feeling.”

“Well what if you’re wrong,” Leslie said grabbing Jeb by the shoulder as he neared climbing out of the window, “what if you get hurt out there?”

Jeb shrugged Leslie off of his shoulder, he then proceeded to climb through the window and step on the top of the roof looking back at Leslie, “So are you going to come or get my father?”

“Make room,” Leslie said as the two climbed onto the roof and then proceeded to climb down the side of the house to the ground. “Listen, it will take hours to walk to town, and if we come back in time it will be sunrise…”

“Then I reckon we should run shouldn’t we?” Jeb said with sarcasm and a smile. The two began to head off to town in the dead of night, under the light of the moon.

Back at Wilson’s Creek, a lone rider strode into town and looked down the road to see several men with lanterns walking the street. Peter Savage walked up to the rider and looked at the man, “Don’t you know this place has been closed off?” he asked the rider. The rider looked down at Peter, Peter was in some state of shock, “I’m sorry sir, just wait here for a moment,” he told the rider and ran off to Evan.

“Evan! Evan! Evan!” he yelled, after getting his attention he whispered something into his ear. Evan smiled and walked outside with his lantern.

“Thomas Smith, William Smith’s son is that you?” Evan called out.

“Yes, who are you?”

“I’m Evan Harris, the new mayor of the town. Look, your father’s home was somewhat ruined when the Rebs came into town, I wouldn’t suggest heading over there right away. Look, go into the motel and stay overnight, come morning I’ll send a courier to your father to come down and pick ya up,” Evan Harris called out.

“Alright,” Tom said. “Are they okay?”

“Not a knick on a single one of them so far,” Evan replied. He turned to Peter, “Take him up to the top floor in the motel and write down the room number. Come to me, and later tonight we’ll take him prisoner and send a man over to the Carlisle household. We’ll tell Smitty that we have his son and will hang him at noon on the counts of treason and desertion. That will get the old man out of the ridge and down here to try and get his son back; we can kill him then kill his son, don’t fail me.”

“I never have,” replied Peter.

“And I don’t expect you will,” Evan added. “Just hang on son,” Evan called out to Tom who had dismounted his horse.

Peter pulled up beside him, “I’ll take care of your horse in a second, come with me to the motel,” Peter said, Tom quick to follow
 
Hah, Tom will always survive. :p

But for how much longer I wonder? :eek:

Something wicked this way comes... ! :p (at least towards Jeb and Tom)

Something wicked this way ends! :p Indeed, something wicked this way does come for the finale which is coming up ever so fast now. :(:D

So Tom hops into another dangerous situation. Let's hope his luck holds out.

Shouldn't say this, but someone's luck is about to run out. Who? Well, that's what the next few updates are for aren't they? :p
 
Chapter Nine

Peter Savage led Tom into the motel next door to where they were previously situated in the town. The villainous man walked up to the motel owner and asked for a room for his ‘guest,’ to which the owner gave him room 14 on the second floor.

“Isn’t that…,” the motel owner began; to which Peter Savage nodded his head and gave the owner a sharp glaring look which was meant to be like, ‘better not mess with us.’

“Have a nice rest why don’t cha,” Peter said to Tom.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Tom replied. Peter exited as Tom walked up to the floor, Peter remarking room 14 over and over again before he reached Evan Harris who was waiting outside.

“He’s in room 14 Evan,” Peter said to his boss.

“Okay, listen closely; we’ll give him two or so hours, once it’s passed midnight. We’ll go in, take him captive and send Smith a message that I have his son and plan to hang him at noon on desertion and treason. And you know what he’ll do right? He’ll come storming out to save his son and that’s when we’ll end this war,” Evan said.

“Why don’t we just go in now?” Peter asked.

“I reckon we should wait until he’s asleep, that way nothing goes wrong,” Evan said, turning back and walking back into the saloon where Marshal Thomas was waiting.

Outside of the town, Jeb and Leslie were running through the mucky fields of mud and low risen grass towards the town. Jeb was out in front of his friend Leslie, who wasn’t far behind but begging Jeb to slow down a bit as they leaped over fallen logs and ran up and down the many ridges and hills with bugs all around them in the dead of night. Jeb was determined to get to town, albeit he didn’t have a true knowing of what was going on, or the fact that his brother had just made his way into town.

“C’mon Leslie,” Jeb said back waiving his arm forward to press on.

“Can’t we just take a little rest? Plus, what are we gonna say to our folks when we’s are covered in mud and dirt?” Leslie asked.

“I reckon we just change clothes when we get back, now c’mon!” Jeb answered back.

The two approached a nearby ridge overlooking the town, the full moon was out in full force shining down upon them; it must have been around midnight by now. The two boys dropped down behind a log as a lone rider was pacing back and forth just yards in front of from.

“What are you gonna do now?” asked Leslie.

“I’m gonna go into town, what you wanna do I don’t know. I reckon you could stay here incase something bad happens,” Jeb replied.

“Are you crazy? You’re gonna go into the town, look; look at all the guards.”

“Keep it quiet, don’t blow our cover. I’m going in now,” Jeb said as he got to his knees and trudged through the muck around the edge of ridge, getting around the lone rider who was patrolling the ridge and went off to the edge of the town using the sides and backs of the many buildings and barns as cover from the men in the center of the street.

Leslie looked at Jeb making his way closer into town, “Great, he just leaves me out here all alone with the notion of getting help if something goes wrong,” he whispered to himself as he took a look at the horseman only 5 or so yards from him; alone but still having the company of the many crickets and other insects that were out in the night letting the rest of the world a chance to listen to their music.

Jeb made his way to the motel where the motel owner was sitting on his chair stationed on the patio. He looked strangely at the sight of Jeb walking beside him. He got up from his chair and walked silently over to Jeb, quickly grabbing him by his mouth and pulling him back into his motel.

“Sssshhh, Jeb is that you?”

“Ye…!”

“Quiet, listen; your brother is upstairs in room 14. I think Evan Harris is planning on doing something to him in a few hours or so. And one more thing, what the hell are you doing out here?”

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Jeb replied as he took a spare key from the motel owner and ran up to the room. Jeb placed the key inside the lock and opened the door to see Tom asleep in the bed; he ran over to him and shook him few several seconds until he awoke.

“What, who is it?”

“It’s me, your brother Jeb.”

“Jeb? Jeb!?” Tom said with some shock as he took a good hard look at him, “What the hell are you doing down here.”

“Listen, there isn’t much time to explain; but Evan Harris is gonna kill you. He’s already tried to kill pa and the rest of us several times since you’ve been gone.”

“I don’t believe it…”

“Then don’t but trust your own brother,” Jeb staunchly replied back. Outside of the motel Evan Harris had gathered several of his men and started walking towards the motel entrance to take Tom by surprise, little did they know that Jeb was now with him. “Go outside, there isn’t much time!”

Evan Harris led the way up the flight of stairs heading for room 14. Peter Savage told him to turn left and they walked up to the room which read: “14.” Evan looked at Peter and gave him a nod to open the door. Peter backed up a few feet, after he had positioned himself he kicked down the door and the troupe of men stormed the room with their guns drawn.

“Where the hell is he? I thought you said he was in Room 14!?” Evan questioned with a heavy demeanor. The men checked the room when Tank Savage noticed the window was open. The man who had ruthlessly gunned-down Nate walked to the window and took a look down to see two figures just getting off a ladder like railing and beginning to run off to the ridge.

“I got ‘em!” Tank yelled as he shot his pistol at them.

The shot alarmed the men in and around the town; Jeb and Tom looked up at the motel where they saw several figures scrambling around in their old room. Leslie from his position on the ridge looked down at the town to see what had just happened.
 
The plot thickens, and another chase begins. :p

Sadly, I must say this is the last chase before the closing of this AAR.

Indeed it does! Very eager to see what happens next, certainly Tom has a major part in the chase again! :p;)

Thanks! And correct. Well, now we have to get an update out... :eek:o maybe tomorrow or Friday.
 
Sadly, I must say this is the last chase before the closing of this AAR.

thats a shame. does that mean you've got bored with it, finished the story, or the war is going to end soon?
 
thats a shame. does that mean you've got bored with it, finished the story, or the war is going to end soon?

It's not that I've gotten bored with it, though at times throughout this AAR I have grown less than enthusiastic about writing updates, but I never planned this AAR to cover the entirety of the Civil War (that would take too long and I honestly don't think I could have the patience to finsish it). This followed a plot and storyline I created for the first year of the war, which I'm finally closing in on.

I have given great thought to an epilogue that would conclude with the outcome of the Civil War, or (what I favor and will likely follow up on) write a unofficial sequel that would continue to deal with the war but not be related to this AAR.