Crossing the Deadline by Michael Shoulders

the Negro troops up and shot them like rabid dogs.”
    The idea makes my stomach lurch, and my chest feels like it’s being squeezed in a vice. “We can’t let that happen,” I mutter to Henry. It’s hard for me to catch my breath.
    â€œWe’ll worry about that if the time comes,” Colonel Minnis says. “Forrest overran Athens, five miles south of here earlier this week. He’s picking off small forts one by one like he’s going down a row of corn.”
    It’s decided that Major Lilly will take fifty men and follow the railroad south toward Athens to have a look. Just before sunset I sound the boots and saddles call, and we mount. We leave the corral with a squad and eight additional men who have been at the fort for several weeks and know the area. We ride quietly until we face a small rise in the flat terrain.
    â€œThat’s called Hay’s Mill,” a private says.
    Major Lilly stops the line and orders the private and Sergeant Survant to ride ahead. Near the top of the rise, they stand high in their stirrups. Sergeant Survant turns and motions for the rest of us to advance. Far ahead, we see small pockets of flames, too numerous to count. They span a wide swath of land.
    â€œMy God,” Major Lilly says in a low tone. “We’ve found the rebels.”
    â€œHow many?” somebody asks.
    Major Lilly tugs on his mustache. “Several thousand, I’d say.”
    We sit in silence, scanning the orange horizon. “Mother calls that color of sky Indiana sunset,” I tell the major.
    â€œIt’s not the sun painting that orange wash along the bottoms of the clouds. It’s fire,” he says.
    â€œCan small fires cause the clouds to glow like that?”
    â€œNo.” Major Lilly shakes his head. “Campfires, even that many, won’t reflect that high. My guess is Athens is burning.”
    â€œWhere are the rebel picket lines?” I ask.
    â€œThey’re not worried about us,” Major Lilly says. “Not now.”
    Tree branches snap, and suddenly pops ring out from thedirection of the fires. But a safe distance ahead. It’s the first time I’ve been fired at.
    â€œThere’s your answer, Gaston,” Sergeant Survant says.
    â€œHave you ever been fired at, sir?” I ask the major.
    â€œMany times,” he says slowly.
    Knowing we are totally outnumbered and sitting ducks in the fort makes my face feel flushed. With a battle looming, I no longer want to see the elephant when it attacks in full force. “Why would they shoot from that far away?” I ask.
    â€œSomeone wants us to know they see us. They know we won’t attack. There’s too many of them. Let’s head back before they decide to get close enough to do harm,” Major Lilly says.
    We ride back to the fort, store the horses in the ravine, and climb the hillside. It’s nine p.m.
    * * *
    â€œHow will the Negro troops perform if fighting turns thick?” Major Lilly asks Colonel Lathrop when we return.
    The colonel twists his head to the left as if he’s hard of hearing. “I don’t understand. What do you mean, How will the Negro troops perform?”
    Major Lilly’s struck a nerve, but he keeps pressing. “I estimate over two thousand rebels perhaps three miles south of here. We’ll need every able-bodied man to defend the fort and trestle. What is your level of confidence that your men will perform when the fighting starts?”
    â€œMajor, their lives are on the line, more so than yours or mine. Every man under my command has trained like any other Union soldier. Their dark skin doesn’t mean they’ll perform any differently than your men.”
    Major Lilly smiles and nods. “That’s what I wanted to hear, sir,” he says. “I’m sure we’ll all make Forrest’s acquaintance sooner than later.”
    * * *
    Twenty minutes pass, and Colonel Lathrop