American Made: Rise of a Rebellion

Chapter Nine

Hughes missed most of the fighting when he tried to carry his friend's body out of the way of battle. After he finally set his mind right, he went into the fray to find that the fighting was already over. He made his way down the line of the militia that posted on a wall, watching the regulars in the center of town. Neither of the sides were firing at one another. All Hughes wanted was to make sure his last friend in this god-forsaken town was still alive. In his heart he wanted to believe that Hayward was still, but after seeing the last two fall, he was loosing hope for the man.

He spots a few of the men he came with in the larger group that found themselves clustered around the wall. He rushes over there hoping Hayward is among them. Hughes lets out a sigh when he sees him with his musket perched on it. "Finally, I have found you." Hughes exclaimed. He didn't think you could have taken another death of one of his close friends. All Hayward did was glance back at Hughes and then back at the regulars watching them. "Are you all right, James?" Hughes finally asked to try to get something out of the man.

"I'm still breathing, if that is what you meant." Hayward finally replies, not taking his eyes off the enemy. "It is more than what I suppose I can say about Issac and Abner." Hughes knew that people dealt with grief in different ways, but the joy that has always been in Hayward's voice was completely gone.

Hughes lowers his head in shame. He wasn't sure why he should be ashamed but it was there. "They are with the Lord now."

"I wish there was something I could have done." Hayward finally said.

"So do I, but it is all done now." Hughes had to admit. Hayward, held up on a stone wall, watching the regulars with the rest of the militiamen. All the men of Acton were around Hayward, being Davis' friend, they didn't know who had command so they went to Hayward.

Hughes knelt down next to Hayward to let his body rest. The last several hours finally had caught up with him. He sat there quietly, watching the regulars who were only a stone's throw away. They were scattered across the commons, having their lunch. It was as if they didn't know that more and more men were coming down on this small piece of land to seize the opportunity to kill them a few redcoats.

"I know that Davis gave you command if something would happen to him." Hayward said, breaking the silence.

Hughes had no idea that Davis ever gave such an order. He only thought Davis told him that only in passing, but went nowhere with it. "Yes, that was his wishes."

Hayward stares straight into Hughes eye's then said coldly, "I trust in your command but I tell you right now, I will do my own wishes until this day is over. I can't stand seeing these bastards still breathing while they are not."

This had taken Hughes back. He understood that Hayward was distraught because they lost two of their friends but it didn't mean that they should act foolishly enough not to do what is right. Staying together as one is the key for success, not running around by oneself as if they were a chicken with their head cut off. "Stay with me, please." Hughes asked. He Didn't want to beg him, but he couldn't allow himself to lose someone else.

Hayward's mind had already been made up. "If you do what needs to be done, then I will follow you. If you do not," Hayward pauses, "I will go my own way. I will have blood on this day." The coldness was still in his voice. Hughes didn't know anymore if it was for the lost of their friends or just hatred that had built up in him for so long. He was always a pleasant enough man for a drinking partner but Hughes always knew there was a darker side to Hayward that he tried to hide.

"I will do what is right." Hughes said. Hayward nodded in agreement before resting his chin on his musket that was resting on the wall, ready to shoot anyone on the other side.

After what seemed like forever, the British regulars filed up into their columns. None of them tried to make eye contact with the colonialists on the other side, watching them carefully. Hughes watched as they sent a group of them to the north side of the road, out into the woods that covered that side of the road, as a flanking party. They knew that they were not out of the fight yet. Hughes was certain that they would find his own men in those woods were there to try to snipe the column if they get the chance.

Hughes stands up, gripping his musket in his right hand. He watches the columns file out of town, down the dry dirt road. "Men of Acton!" Hughes shouted. "We follow these bastards back to Hell!" In his heart, he knew he didn't want to do such things. He still just wanted to go home. He knew this is what Hayward would have done in his place. He then hops over the stone wall and strolls to the center of town to monitor the retreating enemy. The column only had a few trailing behind to keep a close guard of the colonialists.

He turns to see Hayward at his side followed closely by the rest of the militia. Not just the men he came with but everyone that was on his side of the wall. "I don't want us to act like we are a bunch of farm boys shooting at a herd of deer! I want us to be a bunch of farm boys shooting at a pack of wolves! We need to make every shot count! We want them to know not to mess with the men of Massachusetts ever again!" he then looks over to Hayward, who had a wicked grin on his face. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"That is exactly what I wanted." Hayward agreed.

Hughes and his men, he didn't know if he should call them that but they were following him now, let the regulars get far enough ahead of them to where they were out of musket range before stepping in their tracks. It must have been an odd sight to see if someone didn't know what was taking place. An army of real shoulder's being tailed by a rag-tag group of countrymen.

They followed them for about a mile with hardly either side firing at one another. There was a few shots here and there but none of the balls had found home in an enemy target. Not until the regulars ran into a bridge that crossed a stream, that was only large enough for only two abreast. The column slowed to a snail's pace. Sounds of muskets going off in the north and to the east of the line. Other groups of militia from neighboring towns had joined the fight.

This was time to attack. Hughes gives the order to fire. The men following quickly line up into two columns, the first row taking a knee allowing the second rank to fire over the first rank. All the militia were taught this strategy, hit the enemy hard and quick, then retreat safely back to another point. Retreating wasn't an option now though, they had the regulars on the run. The two lines fire on Hughes' order, filling the air in gunpowder smoke. Without receiving the order to retreat, the men load their muskets once more. The other attacks preoccupied the enemy side and weren't ready for his men to fire on them leading in a few redcoat casualties.

The few of the regulars were in the back try to return fire while crossing the bridge but there wasn't enough room for them to make an excellent return volley. Several in their ranks fell to Hughes' men. Hughes orders another volley but the enemy were already crossing the bridge, just outside their musket range. The enemy were almost in panic. The men in the back were pushing the regulars in front of them, trying to distance themselves from Hughes.

"They are on the run!" Someone shouted in the group. The moral of the men were on the rise.

"That they are!" Hughes replied, excitement in his voice. He started the day as nothing more than a shopkeeper, and now he is leading a small band of men into an armed conflict.

Hughes and his men follow across the bridge before he ordered his men to a halt. He knew that they would not be able not to do much damage trying to shoot the retreating army. He orders, "I want some of you men to stay behind to tail behind while the rest of us cut through the woods to the south to hit them on the flanks as they move down the roads." He didn't know much about much of the land east of Concord but he knew that the road had a lot of twists and turns in it and he could lead his men on a straight path through the fields and woods to get in the lead of them.

Some men volunteered to stay behind to miss the real fighting while Hughes lead the rest of them to the south.