Blood & Bullets

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. As far as anyone could tell there had never been dragons until July 2nd, 1863.

The American Civil War averaged five-hundred and ninety-nine deaths per day. During the three days, the battle of Gettysburg lasted it averaged seventeen thousand. The average height of a US soldier was five foot eight. If you lined up all the dead they would stretch fifty-nine miles. Space starts sixty-two miles above sea level.

The world had never seen so much warm blood, shed that quick. As it seeped through soil a long slumbering evil caught the scent. Ravenous to break its ancient fast the evil climbed towards the surface.

The morning air whisked through the tents canvas flaps. The four men still sleeping pulled their fur skin blankets against it. Cooper was the only man awake, and he didn’t mind. He’d always been an early riser back home, but not as early as his father. Cooper would be slipping on his work boots, and hear his paw calling his name as if he was already disappointed in the work Cooper hadn’t done.

As he laced his Union issued boots the smell of bacon and eggs floated into the tent. His mom made the same every morning before Cooper would go off to work. She would hum little tunes as she danced between the stove and the counter, ignoring her husband's irritated cries. These eggs didn’t smell like his mothers. Cooper pushed the memory aside as he exited the tent.

Cooper was surprised to find so few men busy around camp. A handful quietly moved through the camp carrying trays of food, and mugs of coffee. Some men chatted around small campfires, others sat alone staring at the embers. Quite a few of them looked as if they hadn’t slept.

Nerves, Cooper thought. For Cooper's eighth birthday his father took him to make his first kill. He didn’t sleep a wink the night before. A battle seemed more nerve racking than shooting a deer, but he didn’t feel it.

He scanned the horizon looking through the sea of canvas tents and thin gray wisps of smoke until he spotted, not far from his own tent, Captain Reynolds.

“Good Morning, Captain Reynolds,” Cooper called to the tall slender man sitting on the log, like a stump, with his legs crossed. Cooper could hear his father's voice in his head, only girly boys sit with their legs crossed. But Captain Reynolds seemed an honorable man, nothing like the girly boys his father always described.

“Mornin’ Private,” the Captain replied, a stream of white smoke left his lips as he spoke.

“Any idea when we will start our march, Captain?”

Captain Reynolds looked towards the rising sun as he crossed his legs the opposite way.

“I reckon an hour for the rest of the men to wake, another hour for everyone to break their fast, and then an hour to break camp,” Captain Reynolds answered.

“That puts us leaving around nine, sir,” Cooper said, and the Captain whipped his pocket watch from his breast pocket.

“That’s right,” Reynolds said, his raised eyebrows giving away his surprise, “what’s your name son?”

“Private Cooper, sir.”

“Oh, I’ve heard tell of you son,” The Captain said, “hear you're pretty handy with that,” he pointed to the musket hanging from the boy's back.

“Yes sir, I’d say I’m a good shot.”

“I’m to understand you’re a lot more than just good,” Captain Reynolds said, Cooper could feel his cheeks growing hot from embarrassment, “I’ve still got some eggs, and bacon left. If ya pour my coffee you can stay and have it,” Captain Reynolds said with a warm smile extending his tin mug to Cooper.

“Happy too,” Cooper replied, grabbing the mug and turning to the black kettle above the fire. His mother had always had to use two hands to lift the kettle back home. His father wouldn’t even look up from the meal she’d slaved over to acknowledge her. He scarfed it down so fast Cooper wondered if he tasted it.

After handing the Captain his filled mug he turned to the little pan sitting on the grate above the flame. There were a few strips of bacon and a couple bites of scrambled eggs. He scraped what remained onto a plate and sat on the grass next to the Captain.

“Uhm, son…” the Captain said, “you can pull up a log.”

“Right,” Cooper laughed as he went for one of the logs beside the Captain's tent.

“Today gonna be your first real combat?” Captain Reynolds asked.

“Yes, sir,” Cooper said in between chews of rubbery bacon.

“Where were you before you joined,” the Captain asked.

“I worked on my paws farm,” Cooper responded, pulling the still intact bacon from his mouth and placing it back on his plate. His mama made the bacon crispy, he missed the crunch.

“He let a strong hand like you go?” the Captain said leaning back on his stump in surprise, “You must have some brothers then.”

“No sir,” Cooper said as he swallowed tasteless eggs, “I’m an only child.”

“You can’t be older than eighteen, too young to be conscripted,” The Captain said, “you’re dad must be a hell of a patriot to send you our way.”

“I ran off sir,” Cooper said, “my paw said ‘the military is for pricks, especially that Lincoln fellas army.’ He's pretty much against everything.”

The Captain snorted with laughter.

“Not often I run into a boy whose father told him not to join,” the Captain said, “what about your mother, what does she think?”

Cooper dropped his gaze.

“I.. I’m not sure what she’d think,” he said, “she passed away a few years ago.”

“Ah hell son, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright Captain,” Cooper said, raising his gaze and trying a smile.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what was it that took her?”

“Consumption,” Cooper answered.

“Shit,” the Captain whispered, “lost my little girl to the same thing.” The Captain wiped a tear from his eye and leaned close to Cooper, “hey, I got a little dutch courage hidden away.” He pulled a small silver flask from his breast pocket and poured some into his coffee, “grab a mug from the fire and I’ll pour you some.”

Cooper couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his lips as he went to the fire and poured himself his own mug of coffee. He’d never been allowed to drink back at home. His Paw had claimed it made men lazy, yet Cooper would often find his Paw trading some of the season's yield to their neighbors for some moonshine. The Captain winked as he poured the white liquid into Cooper's cup.

“Make us more fearsome in battle,” The Captain said as he hid the flask back in his pocket.

“When we get there, to the battle I mean,” Cooper said, “what are we gonna be marching into?”

“Well,” The Captain said as he reached back into his breast pocket and retrieved an envelope, “A runner brought this to me, supposed to give a heads up on how the fight is going, but I’ve gotta wait for Martin's shadow to wake up before I can read it.”

“I can read it for you Captain,” Cooper said as he took a whiff of the coffee. It smelt like the stuff his mother would use to clean the pots and pans every so often. It wasn’t pleasant but it was comforting, and that's all he needed.

“You can read,” The Captain said as Cooper took a swallow.

At first he just felt the warmth of the coffee on his lips but as soon as it touched his tongue the hairs on his neck stood tall. He swallowed and it was as if for only a moment someone had caught his throat on fire. He coughed and sputtered. The Captain laughed.

“Yes sir, I can read,” Cooper managed.

“Don’t worry son it gets easier each time,” he said handing Cooper the letter.

Cooper placed down his mug and removed the parchment from the sleeve and began reading:

“The first day of battle was hard fought, but as the dust is settling we find ourselves retreating further back. Lee has pushed his forces up into the Lutheran church and he watches our defensive line like a hawk. I am confident this small defeat on our part will make our boys hungry and will make our enemy soft. Expect to be marching into open combat, we will be eagerly awaiting your arrival.

Sincerely,

General George G, Meade”

Cooper slid the parchment back in the envelope and handed it to Captain Reynolds.

“Well thank you, I was hoping for better news,” the Captain said as he tossed the letter into the campfire.

“General Meade seems confident, and he says he eagerly awaits our arrival,” Cooper responded.

“Any idea how many different companies are marching in today that received this exact same letter?”

“No, sir.”

“Me either, but I bet it’s a lot, and I bet even if the war was lost General Meade would put a positive spin on it.”

“We can make the difference though,” Cooper said as he picked up his mug. I, is what he actually thought when he said, we. Cooper always knew he was meant for more. In heat and cold, sweat and tears he pushed, heaved, dragged, and carried, all the while one thought ran through his mind, There is more for me than this. This thought was like an itch he could never reach and only once he had begun basic training did he start to scratch it.

The Captain peered around at the tents and campfires around him.

“Win or lose, it’s not coming down to these hundred men,” he sighed as he took a swig of his spiked coffee.

“Oh,” Cooper said, the itch growing stronger. He brought the coffee back to his lips. The Captain was right, as it reached his tongue this time it was easier. He took the whole mug in one long swallow. The burn didn’t scratch the itch, but it dulled it.

He lowered the mug and stared at the empty tin. He was going to ask for more but there was movement coming from the Captain's tent, and he thought better of it.

A wall of muscle stepped through the canvas of the Captains tent. Cooper towered over most people at six foot two, but this thing towered over him more than any man he’d ever met, and it was broader than any ox he’d ever seen. His black hair was like an eagle's nest atop his mountainous head. As he stepped out of the tent and stretched, his body seemed to block out the sun.

Coming behind him was an average looking man who seemed a mouse next to the behemoth. The mouse was plump in the middle and thin on top and bottom. His hair was whispy and golden yellow. He reminded Cooper of a Cattail he would see while fishing with his Paw.

“First lieutenant Martin,” the Captain said looking at the behemoth, “Second lieutenant Daedon,” he said turning to the mouse, “I’m afraid you’ve missed out on breakfast and coffee with me and Private Cooper here,” Martin turned his eyes on Cooper. Cooper worried he might try and eat him, and he knew there was no way to fight the behemoth if he did. The Captain kept on talking:

“And Daedon you have just missed reading my letter to me.”

“You should have woke me, Captain,” Daedon responded, in an English accent.

“Ah, I handled it without you,” the Captain said, patting Cooper on the shoulder, “didn’t we.”

Daedon cocked his head slightly, like a chicken analyzing its feed.

“They teach you country boys how to read these days,” he asked.

“It’s not common,” Cooper responded, “but my momma thought it was important to teach me.”

Daedon squished his face into a hollow semblance of a smile.

“Which way’s the rations tent,” Martin boomed.

Captain pointed behind Martin. Martin nodded towards Daedon who smiled meekly until Martin turned at which point he rolled his eyes and stalked off.

Martin crouched in front of the fire and poured himself coffee before going beside the tent and grabbing the last log. He sat on the opposite side of Captain Reynolds and took a swig of his coffee.

“So are you a momma’s boy or something,” Martin asked Cooper.

“Martin,” Captain reprimanded.

“What, he said his mom taught him to read,” Martin said, “she teach you anything else like how to cook, make a dress, maybe how to take a cock,” he rubbed his crotch as he spoke and took another swig.

“Not dress making, but I did learn how to sew and hem,” Cooper responded proudly.

Martin spat out his coffee in a roar of laughter. The Captain sat, his lips tight. Cooper had seen similar looks on his mothers face when his father would go off about manliness or the wife's duty.

“It seems the confederates are pushing back more than expected. General Lee was said to be in the Lutheran Church last night,” Captain Reynolds said to Martin once he had stopped laughing.

“Am I supposed to understand that,” Martin responded.

“You’ve studied the map, same as me,” Captain said.

“I look at it while you babble, but I haven’t studied it,” Martin said annoyance plain on his voice, “look Reynolds when we’re on the battlefield just point where me and my blade will be most useful,” he pulled from his boot a large bowie knife the size of Coopers forearm. It glinted silver in the rising morning sun. He wondered how many animals had been gutted by that thing, he wondered how many humans too.

“I studied the maps, and listened to your strategizing, Captain,” Daedon said as he returned with two plates of eggs and bacon. One significantly bigger than the other.

“Well, I’m glad my babbling wasn’t for nothing,” the Captain said as Daedon passed the larger meal to Martin, and began peering around the campsite as if he’d lost something. The Captain continued, “the letter this morning told us that the confederates are…”

“Where is my sitting log?” Daedon interjected.

“What,” the Captain said.

“The kid took it,” Martin said, pointing to Cooper's stump.

“Ah, lovely,” Daedon said, smiling and stepping towards Cooper, “up, boy.” Cooper started to stand.

“No, Cooper, stand your ground,” the Captain said, “get your own log.”

“I did,” Daedon said, “last night, when I got that log.”

“Then you know where the log pile is,” the Captain said. Daedon looked down and swallowing his pride looked back up.

“Quite right Captain, one moment,” he placed down his tray of food and began walking off. Cooper had seen the walk of a broken person many times in his family's kitchen, and he felt for this meek man.

“No, I don’t mind,” Cooper said, Daedon stopped and peered at the Captain, “he outranks me, plus it was his log first.”

“He’s already up,” the Captain said to finish the conversation.

Daedon rolled his eyes and walked past Cooper. Cooper tried to show a sympathetic smile as he passed by but he was met with the scrunched face of a resentful man.

“Cooper, I’d like you to ride up front with me,” the Captain said, Cooper’s itch was being massaged.

“You mean walk up front,” Martin said, as he placed down his empty tray and looked towards Daedons unattended one, “unless you found another horse overnight, we don’t got any without riders.”

“I know that, he’ll be taking your horse,” the Captain said with a smile, “you can walk with Daedon and the other men for a day.”

“Reynolds this is ridiculous,” Martin scowled, Cooper agreed not just because he was scared of making Martin mad, but because he’d never even ridden a horse.

“It’ll be good for the men's morale, seeing one of us higher ups walking amongst them. Plus keeping your body moving will keep your brain from going dull.” Somehow Cooper doubted Martin's brain could get any duller. Rage filled Martin's eyes as he stared at Cooper, but before he could make a move a far off boom sounded behind Martin. They all stared in the direction of the sound and Cooper could feel every man in the camp's eye turn towards it. Another crack echoed followed by volleys of much smaller cracks.

Cooper knew it was the sound of cannon and gun fire. He’d heard it one night when the fighting had come close to the farm. In the morning his father made Cooper walk out with him, and they picked through the dead soldier's clothes taking whatever food, bullets, and weapons they had.

“Nothing goes to waste,” he’d told Cooper as if it was some animal they were cleaning.

Daedon walked back into the campsite with a log and a second plate of breakfast. Cooper saw Martin was already half through shoveling Daedons first plate down his throat. He sat beside Martin and directly across from Cooper with the campfire between them.

“Today’s Cooper's first day of battle,” the Captain said to the other two. They didn’t acknowledge it and both continued eating their breakfast. “I was nervous for my first battle, I still hold a bit of that nervousness before every battle, how do you feel Cooper?”

“Mostly excited sir, feels like I've been waiting for this my whole life,” Cooper said.

“Confident little bugger, aren’t you,” Daedon said.

“Do you remember how you felt before your first battle Martin,” the Captain asked. Martin looked at the ground and the veins appearing along his forehead showed thinking didn’t come easy.

“Hungry,” Martin finally said.

“And how are you feeling today,” The Captain asked. Martin's eyes flicked onto Cooper and from the black caves Cooper could feel the hate pulsing.

“Angry,” he said. Cooper swallowed hard.

“Good, good,” the Captain said, “save it for the battle.”

The men sat around the fire while the other soldiers woke, and broke their fast. The Captain occasionally tried to create some small talk but was met with angry silence from the two lieutenants and awkward silence from Cooper.

They broke camp, and made ready to start marching. The cannon and gun fire had steadily grown. The men joked it was only worth noting when the firing stopped as it filled every other second.

Cooper walked with Captain Reynolds to where the horses were being watered and fed. There was a brown horse with white smeared across its eyes and mouth. It had kind eyes and reminded Cooper of his family mule. Next to it towered a bulking black horse meant to hold the weight of Martin. The horse's muscles were bulging off its body and it reflected no emotion in its eyes, only black . Cooper had only seen those eyes on predators. Often when he stood between wild coyotes and his chickens.

The Captain walked right up to the brown horse and placing his left boot in the stirrup he swung his right gracefully over the body of the horse and plopped down on the saddle like it was nothing. Cooper came up to the large black horse and pressing his left foot into the stirrup he tried to swing his right leg up but only managed to kick the side of the horse.

The black beast started forward at a trot. Cooper's boot now trapped in the stirrup pulled him down on his back dragging him beside the horse.

“Reynolds,” Martin complained, “the boy can’t even ride a horse.”

The Captain stopped the horse and Cooper got back to his feet, his face burning with embarrassment and his back slick with morning dew.

“Then it’s time for him to learn,” the Captain said.

Martin grunted and pushing Daedon; they both made their way into the rest of the company line.

“Aim your foot above the horse, son,” the Captain told Cooper.

Cooper nodded and placed his boot back in the stirrup and this time his leg went up and over without a snag. As he felt the leather of the saddle underneath him that itch began to get scratched. He felt the lead in his hand and somehow he just knew how to hold it.

“Now you’re going to want to…” the Captain was beginning to explain but Cooper clicked the horse with his boots and was off. He pulled the rope in small amounts and found the horse turning exactly how he wanted, “very good, Private Cooper,” the Captain said, his eyes beaming with joy.

The march set out with Captain Reynolds and Private Cooper leading. Cooper could feel the beast breathing underneath him. It heaved powerful breaths and the tension in its muscles was evident. Cooper worried the horse may turn and snap at him like a hungry dog protecting its bone.

“Cooper,” Captain Reynolds spoke after they had been riding for a few hours, “if you can keep your head on your shoulders I’m certain you’ll have a bright future.”

This felt like ointment smeared on the itch.

“Do you really think so,” Cooper asked.

“I know so, son,” the Captain replied, “you’re the future man of the army. Ace shot, quick wit, plus you can read and write. A little instruction on strategy and you could replace me tomorrow.”

“Well thank you sir,” Cooper said, the itch feeling euphoric, “but I don’t wanna replace you.”

“Well good that makes you more my ally than my own lieutenants.”

“Don’t you trust them?”

“I don’t trust anyone but myself,” The captain said, “but they’re both useful, and they both want to be Captain.”

“I see,” Cooper said, not actually seeing where the Captain was going with this.

“Martin will be leaving us to command his own company after this mission, I’m sure Daedon will follow, becoming his first lieutenant.”

“You’ll be having to choose new lieutenants then,” Cooper said.

“See you’ve got a smart mind,” the Captain said with a wide smirk crossing his face, “and I think given the right kind of experience you could go far. That’s why I wanna recommend you to be my first lieutenant.”

If the itch was physical Cooper would have been writhing on the floor in pleasure. An uncontrollable toothy smile came over him.

“I would be honored sir, that’s a…” Cooper was cut off by a deafening boom.

Cooper turned forward and saw a fireball the size of a mountain sending chunks of earth and stone flying across the blue sky. The heat gushed over the company of men before the fireball receded below the tall treeline. No one said a word, the cannon and gunfire ceased, the world was completely quiet.

Then the screaming started. From some distance ahead Cooper could hear blood curdling screams of fear and the cannon and gun fire picked back up this time sounding frantic and unorganized.

“What the hell was that, Reynolds,” Martin said, appearing beside the Captains horse, Daedon sheepishly following.

“I have no clue,” the Captain said, “certainly some dirty Confederate trap.”

The screams and gun fire stopped. From the bushes ahead Cooper heard rustling and the beating of heavy feet..

“Get behind a tree! Into the tall grass!” the Captain hollered to the men. Both of the horses reared and neighed in fear knocking the Captain and Cooper to the ground. The black horse nearly trampled Cooper as it sped off and showed fear in its previously lifeless eyes. It looked more like the chicken than the coyote to Cooper now.

Captain Reynolds pulled Cooper to his feet and dragged him behind a tree just as whatever was coming broke through the bushes. A beast the size of a bear but with the proportions of a wolf came racing past them. Blood dripped from its mouth as it chased after the horses. It caught up to the black one first and in one clean bite the horse's head fell to the ground. Another one of these bear wolves burst from the right and knocked the Captains horse to the ground snarling before it ripped the head off. The creatures ripped and tore into the flesh. Cooper had seen wolves eat their prey and he could tell these beasts were doing this for sport. They left the mangled carcasses and continued running the opposite way they’d come nipping at eachother like pups.

“What the hell was that,” Martin whispered from the tree beside Cooper and the Captain.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” the Captain said, his voice trembling as he spoke. The mens screaming and frantic gunfire kicked back up.

“More of them,” Martin asked.

“Lord, I pray not,” Daedons voice said. Cooper looked where it had come from and saw Daedon cowering at Martin's feet.

“Move,” the Captain hollered at the rest of the men, “to defend our brothers.”

All of the men stood from the tall grass and began shakily moving forward at a much quicker pace than before. As they came closer the gunfire grew less, and the screaming grew louder.

Cooper had hunted and trapped rabbits back home. He could tell when one of his traps had killed a rabbit because he would hear the guttural death rattle of the rabbit shriek across the fields. The mens screams sounded eerily similar.

The screams stopped again, and the Captain raised his hands to signal the company to halt. Again from the bushes and treeline ahead they heard movement. It was different this time. It was a cacophony of chittering followed by distinct clicking sounds.

“Hide!” the Captain yelled.

Again men went down in the tall grass and stood behind thick trees waiting for whatever horror was to come next.

Spiders the size of dogs and cows came rushing over the landscape like a black hairy wave. Smaller spiders jumped tree to tree heading in the same direction the bear wolves had. A spider as big as Cooper's small farm home came behind them carrying on its back smaller spiders.

“Fuck,” whispered involuntarily out of Coopers mouth as the wave disappeared behind them. After a while the Captain gave a command:

“Move!”

Cooper's brain wanted to go. It was curious, but his body fought hard to keep him in place. The Captain gave him a shove and he was off moving alongside the rest of the company.

The screams and gunfire stopped; they now heard distant yells like commands. Cooper could just catch glimpses of the open battlefield through the tree and bush line when a roar louder than the fire ball ripped through the air. Every man in the company froze.

The earth shook like some giant was walking across it. The wind picked up and blew in pulses each stronger than the last. A tornado had passed through the farm some years ago. Cooper had noted the strength that the wind tried to pull him towards the funnel and the strength he was being pushed against now must have been ten times stronger.

The orange glow of fire rained down from the sky. Cooper could see it moving in the air like it had a mind of its own through the treeline. Another roar and gush of wind knocked Cooper and most of the men onto their asses.

A black winged shadow passed over them. Cooper turned to the heavens and saw a great scaled beast gliding above him. Its body was like the drawings of African Elephants but armored with black scales. Its wings were thin compared to its scales and the leathery black skin was stretched across huge bones. Its snout was like a wolf covered in scales.

Some of the men dropped their rifles and ran, others dropped to their knees and prayed. Most stood their ground and turned to the Captain for their next commands.

Cooper had only ever seen one face paler than the Captains was at this moment, it was his dying mothers. This thought was no comfort to him.