Edge: Killer's Breed

And, in truth, Hedges had his own very strong doubts upon this matter. He came from farming stock and had played his part in protecting the Iowa spread from the savagery of the Sioux and greed of the white land-grabbers. But in such affrays he had fought alongside his father, mother and younger brother, all of them putting into effect the disciplined skills taught so patiently by Thomas Hedges. Thus, father and elder son had been able to meet each attack confident that as a gun was emptied at the enemy, there would be another ready, fully-loaded by a woman and a young boy who had learned to complete such a task at great speed. Then, when his father had been killed by a nester and his mother died of a broken heart, Joe Hedges had been able to hold the farm safe with Jamie at his side.

But the obedience of a young boy who hung on every word from his elder brother was hardly a test for leadership and the more Joe Hedges saw of the uniformed rabble under McClellan's command the less he relished going into battle with them. And it was this feeling of foreboding—perhaps, he was willing to admit to himself, of fear—as much as the disenchantment with army life that had driven him into the saloons of Parkersburg.

Hedges was one of the twenty thousand men whom McClellan had brought across the Ohio River and who were bivouacked outside of town, resting before the eastward march along the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad and into the Shenandoah Valley. And, as Hedges reeled drunkenly back towards camp, it seemed to him that every soldier in McClellan's army had descended upon the town to let off steam. Certainly every saloon had been packed to bursting point with blue-uniformed figures, drinking whiskey with the haste of inexperience, trying to smart talk the whores and dancehall girls who had heard it all before and proving their readiness for war by picking fights among themselves on the slightest of provocations.

He had done his drinking alone, from choice and, in fact, of necessity—for the enlisted men's distrust of officers extended beyond the boundaries of camp while regular troopers of similar rank had a strong dislike for commissioned volunteers. Thus, after drinking alone, Hedges headed back to camp on his own, eyes fastened upon the lamp to give him bearings. It was very late, after two o'clock, and the raucous sounds of merrymaking had diminished to a jangling piano and a dozen off-key voices singing drunkenly far down at the other end of the street. Parkersburg, a quiet railroad town, had entertained its unwanted guests as lavishly as possible and was now seeking sleep, hopeful that by sunup the army would have moved on. Hedges held out the same hope and knew that there was a strong possibility of realizing it. For intelligence reports indicated that there were contingents of Confederate infantry positioned east of Parkersburg and there were strong rumors that McClellan had already formulated a plan to deal with them.

The lamp began to waver and Hedges halted and shook his head from side to side, then grinned. The lamp's movement was a trick of his befuddled mind.

"Never again," he muttered and, the grin became a low laugh as he recalled his father's frequent use of the expression and his mother's skepticism.

"Enjoying yourself, soldier?"

Hedges turned to look across the shadowed sidewalk at the girl who stood there, smiling at him out of the darkness.

"Just something I thought of," he answered and was aware that the words slurred into each other.

"Deeds are better than thoughts if you really want to have fun," she answered.

"I've had my fun."

She laughed. "What ain't you got left—money or balls?"

Hedges grimaced with disgust. "Ladies don't talk that way where I come from."

The whore spat on to the sidewalk, "Christ, another backwoods virgin looking for glory."

Hedges blinked, then felt the anger rise as he realized the truth of the woman's words and experienced a hot flush which he knew to be embarrassment. He had a strong urge to hurl insults at the woman who was belittling him, but suddenly turned away from her and continued his staggering progress down the street.

"I hope some reb shoots it off!" the whore hurled after him.

He quickened his pace, seeing that the kerosene lamp hung, steadily now and knowing that the incident with the woman had had a more sobering, effect upon him than a gallon of black coffee. There was an alley between the dry goods store and the stage depot next door and it was as he passed the mouth of it that he heard the voice of another woman.

"No, please don't!"

He almost went on without glancing down the alley, for he did not really hear the words; merely recognized they were spoken by a woman and for a moment he thought he was being propositioned again. But then the man's voice issued from the shadows and Hedges was pulled up short.

"Come on, sister, you got what I need and I got what you'll enjoy. Two dollars, I'll pay. It's all I got left and you can have it all."