Private Darius Barksdale nervously waited alone in the darkness. Like a good soldier, he had followed his orders exactly. When he could find no more signs of the enemy, he was to come back here and meet up with the rest of them. Had he heard wrong? Darius played Pierce's instructions in his head again. No, he was quite sure this was correct. But where were the rest of them? Darius was beginning to get seriously worried.
A few moments later his panic subsided when he saw the face of Corporal Beauregard quickly approaching.
"Those damn Yankees!" he began yelling. "One of 'em tried to rip my leg off with his bayonet, the bastard!" His angered look quickly turned into a big grin. "I got him good though, a sword right through the juggular." He began to laugh sadistically. Then he stopped and looked around. "Hey, where's the Captain and that Taylor boy?" There was obvious concern in his voice.
"I don't know. I've been here for a while now, and you're the first to show. I hope to God that they are okay." Barksdale said a prayer under his breath.
Seconds later, they heard footsteps come up behind them. Beauregard's face brightened. "That little prayer of yours worked, Darius! Here comes Private Taylor now!"
Both pairs of eyes looked at Sam as he neared. They noticed right away that the man looked like hell. Blood soaked the entire front of his jacket, his eyes were bright red, his face was dark and solemn, and in his hands, he clutched a bloodied piece of paper.
Both of his comrades ran to his aid. "Dear God, what happened to you, Sam? Are you hurt? That isn't your blood, is it?" Barksdale gasped in horror.
It took a moment for Sam to answer. He turned to Darius. "I wish it was, my friend, I wish it was." To his comrades, it looked like he was about to burst into tears. They knew better than to ask why he was upset.
Patting him on the shoulder, Beauregard tried to comfort him. "It's over, Taylor, it's all over. Maybe I can talk the Captain into getting you a furlough. It sure as hell looks like you need one."
Sam finally looked up from the paper he was holding. In a still-depressed tone, he asked, "Speaking of the Captain, where is he?"
Barkesdale sadly answered his question. "I don't know. Neither of us do. We'll just have to wait for him. I know he's out there somewhere."
The three of them could do nothing but wait. They quietly sat huddled together and tried to keep warm as best they could. None of them said anything, for they were too afraid to. They knew Billy should have been back by now. Something was terribly wrong, they could feel it in their bones.
Because of sheer exhaustion, Beauregard and Taylor slowly drifted off to sleep. It was only Darius Barksdale that kept the vigil. He could not sleep until he was sure his beloved Captain was safe.
At ninteen years old, Darius was the youngest member of Captain Pierce's regiment. Pierce knew this and took him under his wing. He would stand up for him when the other soldiers would pick on him for being small and meek, and would always look out for his safety in battle. Darius looked up to Pierce as if he were his father. There was no one he respected more, or wished he could become when he matured. There was an unspoken connection those two possessed, that no one else understood.
It pained Barksdale to know that his Captain may not have been safe. He became restless and decided to look for him by himself. He left his comrades asleep in a glade and began trekking alone through the forest. It was dark, but he was almost positive this was the direction Pierce ran to earlier that night. He hoped it was, for getting lost alone in the woods with bluebellies potentially all around was the last thing he wanted to do.
Darius meandered through the forest for about a quarter of a mile, until something made him stop in his tracks. The handle of a revolver glistened in the moonlight. He looked closer and saw a sword lying next to it. He recognized both as Pierce's. "Captain, are you there?" he asked shakily, afraid that no one would answer, for corpses cannot talk. He moved closer to the weapons and saw red blood covering the ground around them. "Oh God! Captain Pierce, no!" he shrieked, and he frantically looked around in every direction. He believed deep in his heart that he'd find the body of his friend any second. He said another prayer, hoping desperately that would not be the case.
After about a minute of searching the vicinity, no other trace of the Captain could be found. Darius was relieved, and at the same time, was even more panic-stricken than before. The realization slowly came to him. "They've got him! Those Yankee's have captured him!" he screamed, as he began sprinting in the direction of his sleeping comrades.
