Tim, Red, Dawson and two other men stepped out of the ranks.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait till morning for a ration of food,” the lieutenant said. “Did they feed you before you boarded the train?”
Tim looked toward Dawson, the ranking officer, but Dawson didn’t speak. “Most of us have had very little food today, but we’re so tired that if we have some place to sleep we can manage until morning,” Tim said.
“I’ll see that you get rations at the crack of dawn,” the lieutenant said. “The officers will probably be billeted here, but I don’t know what plans we have for the enlisted men.”
The prisoners were marched around the corner and settled in an empty lot, under the watchful eyes of the guards.
Tim and Red rolled up their blouses for pillows and lay down under a spindly tree. Red lay on his side. “Why is Captain Dawson avoiding us?” he asked.
“Poor devil went to pieces in this morning’s assault. I had to pry a dead boy loose from him and slap his face to bring him to his senses.”
“He’s been heading for trouble for a long time now.”
A soldier near them groaned, “Why don’t you boys go to sleep?”
Tim lay on his back and looked into the sky. The stars cast a faint light on the shapes of the prisoners and the sentries standing around the lot. Tim couldn’t wait to escape. In his mind he raced like a phantom through the pine forests of North Carolina and across the mountains into Eastern Tennessee.