"Stop yer damned shooting," yelled, Taylor at his men. "You ain't gonna hit a thing firing blindly at the side of the boat.
"That Yankee Captain done split my skull open," whined the Bearded Man, holding a hand to his bloody scalp.
"Well boys, if they want a fight, we'll give it to them. Leave none of 'em alive."
Taylor, Moses, Blondie, and Red climbed out of their canoes and crawled up onto the metal-plated foredeck while Tiny, the Bearded Man, and the Fat Man made their way to the aft section of the General Bragg.
Taylor put his hand on Moses' shoulder. "Boy, you'd best stay here until we've got 'em all."
"I ain't afraid to fight, Colonel," protested Moses. He drew a sharp knife from his belt and held it next to his Bible.
"Moses, listen to me. You have to stay here in case any of them Yankee sons of bitches tries to make a run for it. If that happens holler as loud as you can and we'll come a running. Okay?"
"Can I stab 'em in the guts if they try to get past me?"
"Okay, but make sure you holler out for help first."
Moses smiled. "I can do that, Colonel."
Taylor looked around and spotted the empty gun mount. "Okay, boy, take a seat over there and guard our boats."
With a mock salute, Moses ambled off and sat down.
With Moses out of the way, Taylor turned to face his kinfolk. "Okay, I'll make my way to the top deck and see if anyone is hiding up there while you two check out the lower decks. Watch what you're doing, and for God's sake make sure you don't shoot each other by mistake."
Red and Tiny nodded, drew their pistols, and crept toward an open door leading into the darkened interior of the boat.
Sergeant Hawkins crouched down behind an empty barrel with his knife tight in his hand. He could hear men talking and moving about on the other side of the door. Hawkins could only catch a few words, but they seemed to be arguing over how to search the ship. After a few seconds, Hawkins heard footsteps as a man took the stairs to the salon deck directly above him. Another man cursed up a blue streak as he walked away to check the lower deck where the engine was housed. Hawkins fought to control his fear. He let out his breath and was about to stand up when he heard someone turn the door knob and push the closed door wide open. Light flooded into the darkened storage room. Dust hung like a fine mist in the air.
"If yer in here, stand up and I'll make this quick," said the Fat Man as he stepped into the room with his pistol held out in front of him. "I mean it, show yourself and I'll go easy on you."
Hawkins remained as still as a statue. He held his breath as his opponent took a step forward and stopped. The man was barely more than a couple of yards away. Tension filled Hawkins' chest as he waited for his chance to strike.
"Okay, have it your way," said the Fat Man as he brought up his pistol and fired it into a barrel on the far side of the room. The sound of the gun firing inside the room was deafening. When no one cried out in pain or surrendered, the man moved to one side and targeted the next barrel.
"Now," thought Hawkins. Like a tiger leaping at its prey, Hawkins jumped up and thrust his knife into the unsuspecting man's throat and twisted it. Blood gushed like a geyser from the wound. With his free hand, he grabbed a hold of the Fat Man's pistol and pulled it from his hand. Hawkins yanked his knife out watched his quarry fall to his knees. The man held both hands to his throat in a vain attempt to stop himself from bleeding to death. Hawkins placed a boot on the Fat Man's back and pushed him face-first onto the wooden floor.
"Thanks for the pistol," said Hawkins as he crept out of the room, leaving the man to gasp his last wet breath before dying.
In the dark, Cooper felt his way around the half-flooded boiler room. The only weapon he had been able to find was a piece of metal piping. Cooper would rather have found a knife or something else sharp to use, but as his mother was fond of saying to him as a child, beggars can't be choosers. He regretted his choice of hiding place the moment he stepped into the cold, debris-filled water.
A door opened at the other end of the engine room, letting in some light. Cooper ducked down and took refuge behind an empty coal bin, just as someone entered the room.
"God damn it," said Red when water flowed over the top of his boot, soaking his feet. "I was angry before, now I'm pissed. If there's anyone in here, I'm gonna find you and then I'm gonna gut you like a fish."
Once again Cooper felt the adrenaline surge through his body. He heard the sound of someone growing closer as they walked through the water. Cooper saw a hand holding a gun appear right in front of him. Just like a trap being sprung, he brought his metal bar down on the outstretched arm, shattering the bones and knocking the gun into the water.
Red cried out in pain and reached for his broken left arm with his already injured right hand. He turned to see where the attack had come from. His heart jumped when a darkened shape seemed to appear out of nowhere and reach out for him. With two injured arms and several broken ribs, Red was no match for Cooper, who wrapped an arm around the man's throat and dragged him down into the water to drown him.
Cooper held Red tight in his arms as the man thrashed and fought to live. In under a minute, it was over. He pushed Red's body aside and crawled about on the floor looking for the dropped pistol. After almost a minute searching, he felt something and picked it up. He cursed when he saw it was nothing more than a piece of discarded machinery. Cooper grew desperate; he needed to find the weapon before someone came looking for the dead man. Close to giving up, his fingers ran over the top of something metal. He grabbed it and held it up to see. He smiled when he saw the revolver in his hand.
Cooper stood up and looked toward the open door. With one man down and a pistol in his hand, the odds had increased somewhat in Cooper's favor. He moved to the opening and looked at the stairs leading up to the next deck. As quiet as he could, Cooper crept up the stairs in search of his next quarry.
Hawkins cringed each time the stairs creaked under foot. At any moment, he expected one of Taylor's men to appear at the top of the narrow staircase and gun him down. When Hawkins reached the top, he took in a deep breath to calm his racing heart. A quick glance around told him he was on the salon deck of the ship. There were several empty bedrooms on either side of a corridor which led toward an open dining room. Anything of value, not bolted to the floor, had been stolen by Union soldiers when the ship had run aground.
The sound of a man coughing in one of the rooms on the right-hand side of the passageway startled Hawkins. He brought up his pistol just as the Bearded Man stepped out of the room.
Hawkins fired.
The round struck the man in his chest. He staggered back a step before turning to fire his pistol.
As fast as he could, Hawkins pulled back on the hammer cocking his weapon and loading a fresh bullet.
The wounded man pulled back on his pistol's trigger.
Hawkins heard the gun go off. A split second later, he felt a searing hot pain on the side of his head. He gritted his teeth and fired his weapon at point-blank range at his opponent's head. The Bearded Man's fell back and hit the wall with a hole between his eyes. His body slid down to the floor and tumbled over. Blood poured from a gaping wound in the back of his skull.
Hawkins brought his hand up and placed it on his left ear. He winced in pain when he felt warm, sticky blood. It took a second for Hawkins to realize his earlobe had been shot off. With another man still on the prowl, Hawkins did his best to ignore his wound. He bent down and picked up the dead man's pistol, reasoning two weapons were better than one. With both pistols held out in front of him, Hawkins retraced his steps and looked down the staircase. His adversary had gone to the lower deck to try and find him. He grinned. Things had turned around and now he was the hunter, not the prey.
Blondie swung around and brought up his pistol. The sound of guns firing somewhere at the back of the ship made him break out in a cold sweat. He moved to an open door leading to the kitchen and poked his head inside. When he saw it was empty,
he stepped inside and moved to one side of the room and took cover next to a cast iron stove covered in an inch of dust. Blondie was a coward who had been captured hiding in a tree by Union soldiers. He only acted tough when his friends were there to back him up. With his hand shaking, he aimed his pistol at the doorway and prayed that no one would find him.
Cooper stopped and looked down at a long line of footsteps in the dust which led from the captain's personal quarters back toward an open door. As the tracks only went in, not out of the room, Cooper knew someone was in there, possibly waiting to ambush him. He snuck toward the entrance and stopped with his back to the wall. Blindly stepping into the room was suicide, Cooper needed some way to get the man inside to show himself. He looked around for something to use and nodded when he spotted a lantern lying on the floor. Cooper moved away from the door and tiptoed over to the lamp. He bent down and picked it up. The glass was shattered, but he didn't care, Cooper wanted what was inside it. He unscrewed the cap and smelled kerosene. There wasn't much left in the lantern tank, but it would have to do. Cooper ripped a piece of fabric from a soiled tablecloth he found bundled up against the wall. He took the fabric and jammed into the opening. Next he dug out his matches from a shirt pocket and tried to light a match. The first two failed to ignite. He silently cursed his luck. With only one match left, he crossed his fingers and struck it. With a flash of light, it caught fire. He held the match under the kerosene-soaked piece of his shirt and waited for it to begin burning before turning on his heel and tossing the lamp into the kitchen.
The lantern rolled along the floor before coming to a halt next to a table laying on its side. With a loud whoosh, the kerosene inside the lantern caught fire. In seconds, the table began to burn. The fire rapidly spread throughout the room.
Cooper heard a cry followed by the sound of feet scampering to escape the growing inferno. He raised up his pistol and waited. A second later, a man ran out of the room and stopped wide-eyed when he saw Cooper standing there with a weapon in his hand.
Cooper pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Blondie smiled, brought up his pistol and depressed the trigger. Instead of a loud bang, the hammer struck the back of the bullet with only a metallic click.
Both weapons had misfired.
Cooper reacted first and threw his gun at his opponent's head, hitting him square between the eyes. Blondie's head snapped back. Cooper saw his opening, charged forward, and tackled his opponent, taking him to the floor. Before the stunned man could recover, Cooper smashed his right fist into Blondie's chin knocking him senseless. With the fire beginning to spread out of the kitchen, Cooper wanted to deal with the murderer quickly and get away from the flames. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a knife on Blondie's belt and yanked it free.
"No!" pleaded Blondie just before Cooper thrust the blade into his heart.
Cooper placed a hand over his opponent's mouth to silence him while he waited for his heart to stop beating. In seconds, it was over. Cooper stood up. He could feel the heat from the flames on his face. The dry wooden interior of the ship fueled the growing conflagration. Cooper turned around and ran for the stairs.
Hawkins was about to take the stairs leading down to the lower deck when he heard a voice holler out, "Hey, boy, why don't you step out here and let's finish this like men?"
He turned and looked out onto the aft deck and shook his head. Tiny stood there with a meat cleaver in his hand, waving for Hawkins to join him.
Hawkins stepped out onto the deck and aimed his pistols at the mountain of a man. "You know I could kill you where you stand."
"But you won't, will you, boy? You want to kill me with your bare hands?"
"Not today," said Hawkins as he fired both pistols.
The bullets struck Tiny in his enormous stomach. They might as well have missed him. He smiled and threw his cleaver at Hawkins, forcing him to duck. With blood on his lips, Tiny let out a war cry and ran straight for Hawkins.
Hawkins saw his adversary coming for him. He dropped to one knee and fired his pistols again. One of the rounds struck Tiny on his left shoulder, the other went over his head. Before he could cock his weapons, Hawkins was hit and sent flying across the deck. The instant he landed, he knew he was in trouble. Pain shot from his collarbone and down the left side of his body. He grimaced and let go of the pistol in his left hand. Hawkins rolled over and tried to get back to his feet when Tiny lashed out and walloped him across the face, splitting open his lip. Hawkins tumbled backward and came to a sudden stop against a metal pole protruding out of the deck. His mouth was filled with the coppery taste of blood.
Tiny stopped and got down to pick up his knife. His breathing was labored and slow. Every time he exhaled, blood seeped from his lips. With his meat cleaver in his hands, he staggered toward Hawkins.
There wasn't a spot on Hawkins' body that didn't hurt. He sat up and looked up at Tiny as he chuckled to himself while he staggered like a drunk toward him. Instead of one man, Hawkins saw two through the haze in his mind. He had one chance if he wanted to live. He closed his left eye and brought up his pistol. When Tiny was right above him, Hawkins fired his weapon. The bullet struck his opponent under the chin and exited through the top of his skull.
Tiny dropped to his knees and then fell onto his face, spilling his brains at Hawkins' feet.
"Thank God that's over," said Hawkins to himself. He grabbed ahold of the metal bar behind his back and used it to help stand up. Hawkins looked up and saw a thick cloud of black smoke swirling up into the sky. He undid a button on his shirt and placed his injured left arm in the opening. Hawkins had no idea if Cooper was still alive. There was only one way to find out. Hawkins began to walk as best he could along a slender wooden platform which ran down the side of the ship.
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