by Holly Hook
Men's voices float through the trees. They're distant. In the distance, behind another wall of trees, white tents huddle together as if protecting themselves from something. Dark figures move in front of them, restless. The night air smells of smoke and flames flicker from campfires. Crickets chirp.
I rub my hair out of my face and over a pointed hair clip. My scalp tingles and my head throbs. I double over and the guy leans over me. "Are you okay?" he asks.
I catch my breath, almost glad that I don't have to anticipate that pain every time I go to a new time. "Yes, Simon," I say. "Except for the fact that we're standing in the Civil War during the Battle of Gettysburg."
"Huh?" Monica asks. She backs away into Isabel, who stands against a tree.
"Hold on," I say, removing the clip. "I really wish Arnelia had made more than one of these."
It's hard to convince Isabel and Monica to restore their memories after my painful display, but I get it done. Once again, I have to have Isabel's help putting the clip on Simon's head. When it's done, we stand there, staring at each other.
“Well, welcome to the Civil War. Well, the American Civil War," Isabel says. “This is Frank's memory, all right. I caught little glimpses of it when I put on the clip.”
I search my mind for Frank's memories. I must not have them as clear as Isabel does since she was the first person to receive them. There's a faint memory of men in blue uniforms and caps. Of blasting noises and smoke. Of a rift, swishing with gold curtains and forbidding Frank entry. Of pain.
It's something I know too well.
"Where exactly are we?" Simon asks.
"Frank and I did a project on Civil War battles back when I first met him in Independent Study," I say. I'm the one who will be the most help here. "If Frank remembers blue uniforms, he must have fought on the Union side of the war. I hope that we're standing on that side of the battle now, or we're never going to find him." My heart pounds. If we're standing on the wrong side, how will we ever cross lines?
The sound of men talking floats through the trees again. There are soldiers around. The land slopes downward to where the trees open up into a field and more tents and fires huddle down. There's no fighting going on now. "Either both sides are taking a break, or the battle hasn't started yet," I say.
"This was a three day battle, right?" Monica asks. "I'm trying to remember things from my eighth grade history class."
"I think. I hope this isn't the night before the final day of the battle. That one was the deadliest. It had the most fighting." I look around, trying to recall my project that I now never did, any landmarks that will tell us where we are. "Isabel, have you ever been here?"
"Never," she says. "Time has never given me an assignment here. Well, when I was Timeless. I don't think it wanted me to meddle in anything that involved someone that I thought I knew so well.” She shakes her head. “I'm not sure how I'm going to feel about seeing him again. He's here. He has to be. Him and his twin that he spoke about.”
I study my surroundings again. Two soldiers walk in front of a campfire about a hundred feet away. They're wearing blue uniforms.
I breathe a sigh of relief. "We're on the right side of the battle, at least," I say, careful to keep my voice down. What will the soldiers do if they find us? They won't want us to be here and for good reason.
"I think we're standing on a landmark called Culp's Hill," I say. "That would make sense." I swallow. "This is one of the places where the Union retreated towards the end of the battle. We might be facing the final day here. We had better move before the sun comes up."
Monica curses. "There must be thousands of soldiers here. How do we find this Frank? I've never seen him, so I'm not sure how much help I would be. My memory of him isn't very clear."
“And what do we do when we do find Frank?” Simon asks.
“You don't have the answers anymore?” I joke. "I guess we tell him not go into the battle and we're home free. We might even have to injure him so he doesn't go. Then we go back and find a way not to screw up all the times after ours. Done."
"Frank will have a gun," Simon says.
"Good point." Are we going to have to deal with him trying to kill us all over again?
“Just finding him won't be easy," Isabel says. “We had better start now while we have the cover of darkness."
I glance down at my dress. It might not stick out too badly here, not like it would in Monica's time. Isabel's also in a dress and Simon's in his overalls. But poor Monica is still in a T shirt and jeans. She'll be the one standing out.
“Monica,” I say. “We might have to leave you here while we go and do this.” I look around at the forest. We're in a sheltered area. The trees block us from the view of everyone in the field. “Besides, we need someone to make sure we know where to go when it's time to leave. You'll have to be our rift marker.”
She glances fearfully out of the tents. “I'll be glad to do that,” she says. “I don't want to go wandering around in this time. And I agree that we need someone to make sure the rift doesn't vanish. I feel some tingling over here so it must still be strong, but the thing is, if it starts to fade, how will I contact you?”
“You don't,” I say. “This is a risk we're going to have to take.” I reach around and out, trying to feel where the rift might be. My hands tingle when I get close the tree that's next to Monica. She's right. “It feels like it's right between these two trees. If you stand here and don't move, we'll easily know where to come back to. Or we can tie something around this tree. Let's do both, actually. In case you do have to run from here."
“I'm not surrendering my shirt or pants,” Monica says.
"Simon's coat,” I say. It's warm here and he won't need it. If we go back to 1912 after this, his coat will be the least of my concerns. “Tie that around this tree. There don't seem to be many Timeless left, so one of them shouldn't come after you or anything. I think I left mine at your house.”
“I agree,” Simon says.
The stars blink overhead, waiting to watch the bloodbath that's going to unfold at sunrise. It's not going to be pretty. I can feel the tension in the air, the fear. These men must have been here for days, holding back the enemy. I feel awful for them.
We have to convince Frank to desert at the last minute. But we have to move quickly. I want out of here before daylight, before the fighting starts. Frank is supposed to die in a cannon blast with his twin brother. I just need to find two guys who look like him. Frank mentioned they were inseparable. They'll be in the same unit, whatever that is. There must be men from multiple states here. And the fact that they're all wearing the same blue uniforms won't help us.
“Can I stay with Monica?” Isabel asks.
It's so clear she doesn't want to go. Maybe she's afraid of more war. Or of seeing Frank again. Or both.
“If you want,” I say. “But it would be easier with three of us searching. There must be thousands of soldiers here. I mean, look. They're not just camping up here on this hill. They're down in that field over there, too. And once the enemy gets here, there's going to be a lot more. We're not exactly going to flag down Frank in the middle of battle.”
“I suppose I should go,” Isabel says.
I take Simon's hand. “Stay close to me,” he says. “They might think we're people from the town nearby. The worst they should do is order us out of danger. I don't think they're going to shoot us.”
“I hope not.” We walk away from the cluster of trees, leaving Monica inside to wait for us. If we don't get back, I hope she can find her way back on her own. But if we die or are hurt, she's going to be stuck wandering through the Hub for the rest of her life, unable to get back to her own time. What if she has to settle in some random time and place and gets caught in one that's even worse than staying with Isabel's father?
We have to take the risk. There's no time to get her back home safely before we find Frank. Not unless we want to risk getting shot in the Hub.
We have just as m
uch risk of getting shot out here, too. We walk silently past a group of soldiers huddled around a fire. One holds a stick with a piece of meat over it. I wonder if they're enjoying their last meal. If I remember right, thousands died in this battle on both sides. Frank was supposed to be one of them.
“How are we going to find Frank in time?” Isabel asks.
The trees clear a little and I see what she means. The horizon is starting to turn pink. The soldiers are nervous. One passes us, calling into the trees for a guy named Steven. He doesn't notice us. He's tired. Exhausted. Three random strangers don't matter right now. “If this is the third day of the battle, well, it's going to be bad. We don't want to be here for that. There's going to be a huge charge from the enemy, if I remember my project right.”
Simon walks faster, keeping me close. “Frank?” he calls into the trees. “Frank?” He faces Isabel. “What was his brother's name?”
“Fred,” she says. “Frank said his twin was named Fred. I say that we call for both of them. It'll increase our chances of finding them."
We walk through the trees. I'm right that we're on some kind of high ground here, and the Union troops are defending it from the enemy. There are also too many trees, so I can't see outside of here too well, and can't see how many of the enemy are out there. But I already know. Thousands. Wasn't there something in our report about artillery, too? Both sides fired it at each before the charge. Maybe one of those was supposed to hit Frank. That leaves us even less time to make sure Time doesn't snatch him and leave his brother to die.
“Frank!” I yell. My heart fills with dread at the sound of his name. What will a human, normal Frank be like? Isabel flicks her hair back next to me as if she's ready to meet him. How does she feel about all of this? I hate to bring her into another war.
“Fred!” Simon cups his hands around his mouth and shouts their names, over and over.
“Here!”
A man nearby lifts his hand and waves. He's an older man, complete with a long nineteenth century beard and an army hat. He's definitely not the Frank or the Fred we're looking for. He sets his rifle up against a tree. “I'm here. Who are you? What are you doing here? Did you come from town?”
“Never mind,” Simon calls. “Have you seen a set of twins? Two men with dark hair? Young men?”
“I can't recall that I have.” The man has a Northeastern accent. “There are a lot of us here. You aren't going to find them, I'm afraid."
“Thanks,” Simon calls.
“You kids should get out of here and get back into town,” the solider calls. “Haven't you heard the fighting here? This is not a place for you, especially you young women.”
I curse.
“This is the third day of the fighting,” I say. “We have to hurry.”
We're heading downhill now, towards the open field. Our chances of seeing Frank or Fred might be better there. The landscape opens up and the trees stop. I wish I were more sheltered, but we have to find Frank. There are more soldiers here and more fires.
"Don't fall into that," Simon says, grabbing my arm.
There's a gouge mark in the ground as if something's blown up there. Are they shooting cannons already? They must be.
Then a horrible thought hits me.
"What if Frank's already been claimed by Time?" I ask. "He could have. There have been two days of fighting already."
"He probably hasn't been," Isabel says. "If this time was after that, he wouldn't have stood at this rift so much, thinking of his brother."
"Good point," I say.
The sky's growing lighter on the horizon. Any minute, the fighting will start again. It might even be over before noon, and countless bodies will lie here, mutilated and rotting in the sun. We don't want to be around for that.
“Frank!” I call. Isabel joins in. We move deeper into the throngs of soldiers. Some of them look at us. One has a gash across his forehead. Yes, this is definitely the second or third day. “Frank!”
"What are you girls doing here?"
"Go back to town!"
I ignore the soldiers telling us to go away. A couple more of them whistle. They're thicker here and more numerous. We must be close to where the charge will take place.
There's a stone fence ahead. It must be dividing the Union and Confederate lines, because I see no one beyond it for about a mile. There are distant fires much farther away in the fields. The enemy. They're waiting until morning.
“Frank!” I yell.
The sun's peeking over the horizon. It's a bright red eye, glaring out over everything. The dew on the grass dampens the bottom of my dress. My heart pounds. Isabel breaks into a run, screaming Frank's name. She's panicking. I don't blame her. She's had enough of war and frankly, so have I.
We run through the soldiers, calling names. So many bearded men look after us and shout at us to leave, but no one moves to stop us. Maybe they're too tired. Maybe they're too tense, waiting for the enemy. Whatever. But most of them are men older than seventeen, men who didn't lie about their ages to enlist.
We approach a tent where several men bend over a paper on a table. Commanders, or something. I pull back the flap and peek inside to make sure Frank's not there. One of the guys faces me. He has gray in his beard. He turns away from his plans and glares at me. His eyes are hard, his expression stone. "Woman, this is no place for you. There will be death here today. You may even be captured by the enemy if they manage to get through our lines." Then his features soften. "Are you lost?"
"I'm looking for a young man named Frank. And another young man named Fred. They're twins." I can't keep the tremor out of my voice.
"I do not know who you speak of," he says. "I am sorry, but I am sure the men in question have duties here today." He wipes his brow with a cloth. "Go. We must plan our defense and I cannot have any more distractions."
Duties. It makes me think of Frank's words back on the Titanic.
“He's not out here." Simon pulls me from the tent. The sun's over the horizon now, a full red eye waiting for the bloodbath. “We have to go back and check in the trees on that wooded hill. I hope Monica's okay. I don't want to something to happen to her just because of Frank.”
Simon's right. I scan the men again, the blue uniforms and the rifles and tents. There's no sign of him. “We never checked back there,” I say, pointing to the area behind the trees. “Maybe--”
A shot rings out. It's not a gunshot. It's a low thunderous sound, like something much bigger going off.
Like a cannon.
Most of the soldiers look skyward and some shout and curse. They're ready for this sort of thing.
“Rats,” I manage. “That's our cue."
“Wait,” Isabel says. She grabs my hand. “We have to see where the cannons are firing to. Where they're landing. If Frank's supposed to die by one, we need to head there.”
“I agree.” My stomach plummets.
It takes everything I have to just stand there and listen and watch for where the cannon's going to land. I see nothing going through the air, but at last, I hear the impact. Most of the soldiers are looking towards the very back of the field, away from the front lines. Dirt flies everywhere and leaves another crater in the ground. A group of four soldiers run away from it, but there is almost no one else back there. The enemy has overshot the front lines.
Another cannon fires from the distance, and another.
I struggle to remember more details of the battle. “The enemy is trying to weaken the Union side before the attack. That's my guess,” I say. I face the field behind the front lines, to where more dirt explodes. I can't tell if anyone's there. “We need to follow that.”
We have to go out there and find Frank and Fred. I squint. There are two men in blue over in the shade of a tree. That might be them. They're so far away, on the other side of those blasts. Either they're trying to hide or they're trying to avoid running through the danger.
"Don't tell me that's them," Simon says, holding his hand to his for
ehead.
My heart flutters in my chest. Will Time even still be snatching people out of disasters and recruiting them if it's so sick? But if it's stopped doing that, Frank wouldn't be after us anymore. We have to go.
"Come on!" I run first.
"Julia! Let me go. Stay here!" Simon's right on my heels.
The three of us run towards the area that's getting shelled. Another eruption of dirt goes up. The enemy has no idea that they're missing their target. I'm glad. I don't want to see these men getting blown to pieces. I don't even want to see Frank suffer that fate.
“I can't do this,” Isabel manages, but she keeps running beside us. More of the soldiers yell at us and tell us to get out of here, but we don't stop. They thin. We're running away from the front lines, after all. That's what they want.
A tree springs up beside us, and another. We're close. The earth explodes about a hundred yards to my left. There aren't many soldiers here. The four I spotted first are running for the front lines, away from the blasts. And they're not Frank and his brother. The two men I'm going for still stand under the tree.
They have dark, messy hair. They're young, with no beards. And they look exactly alike with angular faces.
“There!" Isabel points to them. We've found them, standing right in the place that's getting shelled.
It's Frank. And his brother.
I run for them.
“Frank!”
He looks up. This is not the Frank I remember. He has Frank's face. Frank's sloppy posture that he makes look cool no matter what. But this Frank doesn't look confident. He looks very small and scared, pressing up against the tree like he's not sure what to do. Like a child, almost.
This Frank is seventeen and inexperienced and he's realizing what a horrible mistake he's made by joining the war. His brother Fred looks no better. I realize now why they're hanging back from the front lines. They're terrified.
This is the duty he was talking about all along. The duty that he neglected. The mistake that killed his brother.
