Stowaway in Time

occasionally the logs shifted beneath her feet, squelching in the mud.
She heard the oncoming soldiers before she saw them, hundreds of feet tramping on the logs and snatches of shouted orders. Once again, she withdrew to the trees and hunkered down. Minutes later, the column passed. She watched men wearing a variety of uniforms, but predominately gray, pass by. The majority wore hats and boots, carried bundles on their backs, and rested muskets on the shoulders.
It has to be a reenactment. I should show myself and ask for help. But recalling the ships she had seen in the river, the cannonballs exploding on land and the haunting screams of pain; she kept still. Once the men were gone, she continued up the road.
She passed a few stragglers, ducking into the cover of the trees before they saw her. Most appeared sick or injured and unable to keep up. Their pallor and the blood staining their bandages appeared too realistic for Diamond’s peace of mind. One man staggered and fell a few feet from where she crouched.
She eyed him warily, but he didn’t move. If he was playacting, he was very good. A bird squawked overhead, erupting from the trees and flying over the river. A crow? Diamond didn’t know for sure, but the bird was black. Was it waiting for this man to die? She shivered.
Keep going. He’s nothing to do with you. Besides, all this is make-believe, anyway. She stepped out onto the road. The man didn’t move. Keeping her eye on him, she dug out her phone again. Still no service, and no date and time. What did you expect? That it would say 1860 something? She put the phone away and stepped closer to the injured man.
He was younger than she had first thought. His beard made him appear older at a glance, but up close, his skin was smooth and unlined. He had a high forehead, wavy brown hair, strong cheekbones and an aquiline nose a bit too long for true masculine beauty. Still, he was a handsome young man despite his pale features.
Walk away. There was no story here and playing the hero only invited trouble. He’s so young. And handsome. Not that it mattered. He was trouble, plain and simple.
Or was he? Maybe he can help. He was no threat to her in his current condition. She couldn’t risk approaching the army, but she should be able to handle one wounded soldier.
“Hey, mister, can you hear me?” She shook his shoulder. He moaned and his eyes fluttered, but didn’t open. She scanned him for injuries. Blood seeped through his trousers on his left leg. She sighed with relief. Nothing that seemed immediately life-threatening. If it was even real. She knelt beside him in the mud and touched the bloodstain. The dampness transferred to her glove. Wrinkling her nose, she sniffed at the substance, catching the faint whiff of iron. If it wasn’t real blood, it was a very good imitation.
The scrape of a shoe on the logs sent Diamond fading back into the underbrush. Another straggler appeared, his arm in a sling. He stopped by the fallen soldier, swaying on his feet. He gripped the man with his good arm and shook him forcefully.
“You can’t stay here, ‘less you want to be captured by the Yankees.”
This time the man’s eyes opened. “You go on. I’ll catch up.”
“Be quick about it. They can’t be far behind.”
Diamond was close enough to read the dubious glance the man gave her soldier, but he didn’t have spare strength to give. He staggered onward.
Her soldier struggled to his feet. He stood, bent at the waist, breathing heavily. He stepped forward, but his bad leg collapsed and he slumped once more to the edge of the log road.
“Do you need some help?” Diamond slipped from the trees.
The man tilted his head back and looked up at her, confusion clouding his blue eyes. “Who are you?”
“My name’s Diamond.”
“Do you live around here? Could you take me to your house?”
“No, sorry. But I could help you follow the others. You could lean on me.”
“Are you with the Confederate Army?”
Diamond shook her head. “I’m lost. I was following this couple and then there was an explosion. It knocked me out for a while and when I came to, they were gone.”
“A refugee then?”
“I suppose so.”
“Where do your loyalties lie?” Lines of pain flared from eyes dark with suspicion.
“I don’t want to take sides. I just want to get home.” It was a strange conversation. Diamond tried to stay close to the truth without revealing too much information. But she felt she was losing her grip on sanity or else dealing with people who were a whole new level of crazy, playing out a battle from the past with live ammunition, warships which must have cost hundreds of thousands of dollars and actual spilling of blood.
“I’d prefer not to take sides either, but I haven’t that luxury. If you help me, you might lose your neutrality as well.”
That’s a problem, especially since you’re on the losing side of this conflict. “No one needs to know I helped you. If I can get you back to the rest of your men, would you help me find these people I’m looking for?”
“Much as I would love to oblige, I don’t see how. Capture is inevitable. Even with your help, I couldn’t possibly march fast enough to escape—if escape is even still possible. Once I’m locked up in a Union prison, I’ll be no use to you.”
What’s going on here? Although she hadn’t completely abandoned her reenactment theory or the possibility that she’d injured her head in the explosion, making her totally bonkers, she was starting to believe she might actually be witnessing a Civil War battle. If so, it was a fantastic opportunity to see what had really happened all those years ago. She’d known Bob and Anne were hiding something, but time travel topped all her theories. If true, it was the story of a