The Vicky Series: Book 3: Living A Dream

Chapter 26

An arrow landed a few inches to his right with a spiteful "Thwip". Quin resisted the urge to roll away from his little cover. The arrow seemed to grow as it sat there reminding Quin just how close it had come. Swiftly, he reached out and plucked it from the ground. He tossed it to the side and ducked as another whizzed past and landed somewhere behind him.

Life in battle could only be measured by minutes. The curious clock of the battlefield ticked off the seconds so slowly that to a soldier in the battle mere minutes would feel like hours and hours dragged out to eternity.

The howitzers boomed in alternating fire and a large group of warriors scattered in panic. Suddenly the front line of warriors turned and disappeared from view into the cloud of dust they kicked up behind them. Quin listened but heard nothing but retreating horses as the rifle fire died down. The little hairs on the back of his neck bristled.

The seconds ticked by and Quin thought to check on the young corporal. He was still holding his own, though he no longer looked like he was about to be sick. He was completely in the moment and focused intently on the cloudy horizon. A blood curdling scream rang through the silence from an enemy they couldn't see.

A long line of horsemen materialized from the dust but they just stood there out of rifle range. Quin was glad he'd taken time to reload while he checked the corporal. His fingers curled purposefully around the rifle as he took careful aim. His stomach knotted as they stood there. He was certain something really bad was about to happen.

Suddenly the line charged and their wild yells almost drowned the sound of their horses as the enemy charged them like a tornado over 1000 strong. One hasty glance over his wall and Quin saw all he wanted to of them. The rifles began firing as soon as they were in range and the howitzers evened the odds a little, taking out large groups of warriors at once.

Quin lost track of the number of times the warriors had charged them. The hours crept by with agonizing slowness. Even with the adrenaline coursing through him with each wave, Quin was beginning to feel battle fatigue from the hours of intense terror that life and death battle wrought on a man's mind and body.

They'd managed to hold their own just barely. But they weren't making any real impact on their enemy numbers. It was no surprise when he remembered the sight of them in the field glasses this morning. It was hard to believe that was just this morning. At the moment it felt like a lifetime ago. The howitzers boomed again and there was a temporary lull as the warriors retreated.

Scooping up his knife he shoved it into his boot and tucked the revolver in his holster. He flung the saddle bags over his shoulder and gripped his rifle as he crouched low and hurried toward Kit. No one knew the likelihood of the odds of survival more than he did. There was a village of about 500 lodges and another further on.

No doubt the men were feeling that if they must die anyway, they wanted to inflict a little damage first. Kit knew as well as Quin they'd never make it to the village. Retreat was their only option for survival at this point but there was nothing for miles around to retreat to that had as much cover as these ruins. And he said as much to Kit a few minutes later.

"But there's something about sounding retreat that always rubs the wrong way." Quin admitted.

"I know the feeling. I don't like it any better than you do. Our howitzers are the only reason we haven't been overwhelmed by their sheer numbers. There must be over 4000 of them out there now! For now we stay put. All we can do is continue to hold. If we leave this cover, pitiful as it is, we'll be cut down where we stand."

"I hate just sitting here against these odds...we can't hold out forever."

"Ah, ye of little faith or as they say in these parts: Remember the Alamo!"