Edge: Killer's Breed

Hedges had the first hangover of his life and was not enjoying the dull ache behind his eyes, the insistent thirst that irritated his dry throat and the cramps in his stomach. But counteracting his discomfort was a taut feeling of excitement compounded by the thrill of impending action and a nagging doubt, amounting almost to fear, of how he might react to it. He sensed that the men who rode behind him were experiencing a similar set of emotions. Previous troop movements had been made in the safe knowledge that the territory they covered held no dangers and inevitably the monotony of the circumstances had whetted the appetite for a confrontation with the enemy. But this period was now over and every man under McClellan's command was aware of this. To anticipate danger from a distance and face it bravely was easy to view it at close quarters with the awareness that the courageous sentiments had to be supported by deeds was a situation many men found hard to bear.

Not least a man like Hedges who recognized, for the first time since donning his officer's insignia, that the men at his back were placing a great deal of trust in him. Blind trust, since he was as untried in war as they were. And because of his own self-doubt, Hedges felt the responsibility heavily upon his aching shoulders but not weighty enough to dull the keen edge of his anticipation.

"Looks like a town ahead, sir."

The sergeant was older than Hedges. He was about thirty-five, a farmer with a wife pregnant for the fifth time. He was not an intelligent man, and this showed in the dull flatness of his widely spaced eyes and the narrowness of his brows. But he was a hard man, expert with a rifle. Until today Hedges had considered him too stupid to experience fear, but now as the sergeant pointed ahead to where three columns of white smoke rose in the clear, still air, the man's forefinger was shaking. Hedges looked into the dull, sallow complexioned face of the man and saw the features were set in a stiff mask that emphasized rather than concealed his inner torment.

"Philippi," Hedges answered with a nod, not having to consult a map. "Last report we had indicated a group of fifty rebels there."

His tone was soft and even and the sergeant looked hard into the face of his officer. It was not a handsome quality that commanded attention. Beneath a head of thickly growing, short-cut black hair the forehead sloped to prominent brows which jutted out above deep-set, ocean blue eyes. The eyelids were slung low over the eyes, hooding them so that the man seemed to view the world about him with a close, suspicious scrutiny. The nose flared wide at the nostrils and the mouth, as if complementing the eyes, was thin and when the lips curled back it was difficult to decide whether he was smiling or sneering. The clean-shaven jawline was finely chiseled and resolute, completing the appearance of a man who looked and probably was as hard as the situation demanded. The sergeant hoped that he was.

"Just us and Captain Leaman's troop going in?"

Hedges' smile was like morning sunlight on fresh fall of snow. It looked warm but the sergeant could feel the chillness. "First we've got to figure out the odds. No sense in troubling the general if there's only a handful of Johnnie Rebs holed up in Philippi."

The sergeant didn't like the plan but before he could voice his opinion hoofbeats sounded and both men turned at the approach of Leaman and his troopers. Leaman was the same age as Hedges but shorter and thinner. He had a fresh, eager-looking face with bright, honest eyes and an easy smile. He was a regular soldier, a West Point graduate with an ambition to emulate his father who was a general in Washington. He and Hedges had not met until the morning briefing.

"Looks like it," he said as he halted his horse. The easy smile was not in evidence now as he tried to conceal his nervousness with a facade of toughness. On such a face the expression was incongruous.

Hedges nodded. "How do you figure it?" He remembered army protocol, but the "Sir", was rather late.

Leaman chewed his lower lip. It looked swollen, as if he had been worrying it ever since the ride began. "I've been expecting to run into trouble since we started out. The intelligence has been too consistent to be wrong. They have to be somewhere in the area and my guess is in Philippi."

Hedges realized the captain was stating the obvious to gain time. He didn't help him out, but waited impassively for the decision to be made. Leaman glanced at the smoke, then turned in his saddle to look at the men. The steady rise of the smoke and the nervous expectancy of the men offered no assistance. Yellow rays of sunlight stabbed out of the east.