Fire Over Atlanta Read Online Free PDF Page B

what Johnston could do, and he knows that Hood is different. He knows he can make Hood come out and fight, and then we can whip the Rebels.”
    Drake Bedford sat off to himself, closer to Rosie than any of the others. He had said practically nothing to anyone since his humiliating punishment andhad once remarked to Rosie, “I think I’ll just skedaddle back to Tennessee.”
    “Well, if you want to get hung or shot, I guess that’s as good a way as any,” Rosie told him. “You know what Sherman would do to any man deserting.”
    Drake, for all his anger, knew that Rosie spoke the truth. And now he sat listening and saying nothing. He was thinking,
I’d like to get away from here and go court Lori, but there’s no chance of that
.
    After a while, Captain Salter came by. He was cheerful. “We’ll be moving in tomorrow to take the city. I think it’s about ready to fall. You fellas will get to be in the assault troops.”
    “Hey! Tomorrow’s September the second, ain’t it?” Ira asked.
    “That’s right,” the captain said. “What about it?”
    “It’s my birthday! I’ll be nineteen years old on the day we take Atlanta. Now when we celebrate that, I’ll let folks celebrate the takin’ of Atlanta and my birthday all together at once.”
    The next morning some cannons were still pummeling the city when Company A made its charge. They met little resistance except for a few civilians who took potshots at the Union soldiers as they entered the city limits. General Hood had already withdrawn his forces, and there was little to do but go in and assume charge.
    Drake was positioned on the far right of the advancing line. The city was smoking from the constant pounding it had taken, and he saw that many buildings were already burned. When the troops came to a large, burned-out factory, he moved off farther to his right and soon found himself alone.He was aware that there could be random shots, and the officers had warned the men that they would have to be careful about diehards who would shoot anything that moved wearing a blue uniform.
    Drake carried his loaded musket protectively in front of him. His eyes searched the area carefully as he rounded the corner of the factory. Seeing no one, he advanced slowly, nerves on edge. He passed an alleyway between the charred factory and another building, glanced into it, saw nothing in the dark crevice. He continued on.
    However, he had not gone more than three or four steps when he heard a sound behind him. Whirling, he saw a form, a man wearing a dark brown coat and a black slouch hat pulled low over his eyes. The man was also carrying a musket, which he appeared to be raising.
    Drake threw up his rifle and in one motion lined up on the man and pulled the trigger.
    Nothing!
    Misfire
. Drake dropped the musket and threw himself into the man. He felt the satisfying impact, saw the rifle go cartwheeling through the air, and heard the man expel his breath in a violent grunt as he was driven to the ground.
    Drake grabbed the man by the lapels and jerked him to his feet. He saw a pair of black eyes staring out at him, and he noted quickly that his prisoner was very young.
    “Tryin’ to shoot me in the back, were you?”
    “Didn’t mean to shoot nobody.” The voice was quiet, and there was no fear in the dark eyes that gazed back at him. “You didn’t have to knock me down like that.”
    “You had a rifle, and you were behind me. What are you doin’ here with a gun if you didn’t mean to shoot me?”
    “I’m lost, that’s what.”
    “A likely story!” Drake jeered. He looked at the youth, who was no more than five seven and wore what appeared to be a cast-off set of clothes—faded blue trousers, a checkered shirt, and a light coat, buttoned despite the heat. The hat was drawn down so far over the fellow’s eyes that it almost covered his ears. It looked like a hat that had belonged to a much larger man. The shoes, he saw, were large too, and the sole of one was