Edge: Killer's Breed

As the sound of hoofbeats reached the ears of Philippi's defenders the rate of rifle fire increased and Hedges stooped low in the saddle, ducking behind the neck of his mount as he heard the whine of bullets and ballshot. He heard a man scream and snatched a glance over his shoulder in time to see one of the youngest troopers slide from his saddle. The trooper's horse bolted in terror and swept ahead of Hedges with the man's boot still trapped in a stirrup. The man had received a superficial shoulder wound but screamed in agony as the flesh was scraped from his hands and face by the rough ground over which he was dragged. The trooper immediately behind Hedges was sickened by the sight and vomit gushed from his open mouth to spatter into the faces of the three men behind him. One of these opened his mouth to shout his disgust and a bullet zinged between his lips and ripped out through his, cheek. Blinded by blood, and vomit the man continued to dash forward, into the town street as Hedges led the rest to the right and skidded to a halt. A dozen Confederate bullets entered the trooper's body, dyeing his uniform red as he was lifted from the saddle and slammed into the wall of a building.

The survivors of the charge followed Hedges' lead in leaping from their horses behind the shelter of a two story house, and then clustered around him, waiting for orders. For several moments he said nothing as he struggled to rid himself of the mind picture of the young boy being dragged by the horse.

"Sir!" the sallow faced sergeant prompted, having to shout to be heard above the rifle fire and get through to Hedges' preoccupied mind. Hedges blinked and then raked his hooded eyes around the group of more than thirty men. He had to shake his head to clear it and bring about the realization that they were awaiting instructions from him.

"We divide into two groups," he snapped, his voice hoarse. "Sergeant, stay this side of the street and cover the rest of us until we get over there." He pointed across the street and quickly brought down his hand as he saw it was shaking, "As soon as we're over there, move through the town building by building."

The sergeant nodded and walked through the center of the soldiers, dividing them into two groups of approximately the same number. "Let the horses go," he yelled against the din of gunfire. "Until this is over you're infantrymen."

"Not all of them," Hedges countermanded. "Three men, behind me."

He led his horse towards the comer of the building, with the animal between himself and the town. Five other troopers placed themselves in a similar position behind him and the remainder of the men in Hedges' group stood in back of their comrades. At an order from the sergeant three men crouched at the comer of the building and the others formed up behind them, rifles at the ready.

"Go!" Hedges yelled and jerked on the reins of his horse as he broke into a run. For a moment the gunfire ceased as an apparently loose horse appeared in the street. But then another one came into view and the legs of the Union troopers were spotted. Bullets were suddenly thick in the air from both attacking and covering rifles. Hedges' horse was killed instantly by a ball smashing through the mare's eye, but he and the three men behind him dashed unharmed into cover on the opposite side of the street, The next four men made it into safety with themselves and the horses unmarked but the third horse was panicked by the racket and bolted. One of the men flung himself down behind the dead horse but the other two stood rooted to the spot by the shock of their predicament.

"Cover them!" Hedges yelled and three of his men began to fire wildly along the street as three more under the sergeant's command also loosed off bullets.

One of the unshielded men recovered his senses and ducked behind the next horse in the line. The other dropped his rifle and raised his hands in the air.

"Don't shoot!" he cried pitifully. "Please don't shoot. I surrender."

"Cease fire!" Hedges ordered, and immediately countermanded it with: "Blast them."

For one of the defenseless man's arms was blown off at the shoulder by a concentration of rifle fire and as he watched it failing he died, taking one bullet in the eye and another in his stomach. The rest of the men selected to follow Hedges reached the safety of the building and there only remained the man behind the dead horse. He was curled up in a fetal position, trying to make himself into less of a target as bullets and ballshot ripped countless wounds into the flesh of the animal.

"What's his name?" Hedges demanded, his voice shaking as he tried to control a spasm that was causing his right arm to tremble.

"Phil Stowe, sir," one of the men supplied.

"Stowe!" Hedges yelled. "Make a run for it. We'll cover you."