Sometimes, They Want Revenge

By Jason Wallace

Two Union soldiers get lost in a dense fog and captured by Confederate deserters, soon taken to an abandoned cabin for information about a federal payroll shipment, but there is a bloody history to the place, one that involves more secrets of torture than anyone will admit. Sometimes, the dead can do no less than take vengeance into their own rotted hands.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason Wallace
• Release date: Apr 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310393273

Jason Wallace

Make sure to check out my other poetry at https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/jasonwallacepoetry. There are books on Amazon that are not shown here because they are offered through Kindle Unlimited. There are also books shown here that are not available on Amazon because they are free at all times. http://www.amazon.com/Jason-Wallace/e/B00JG37PVO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1399103321&sr=8-1 Jason Wallace is an Indie author from the Midwest, aspiring to bring his works to the masses and through this, bring joy into their lives. He has been writing for more than 20 years, mostly poetry, but since 2011, he has been writing novels and short stories, in various genres. Come check out my new page and see what's going on. https://www.facebook.com/thepageofauthorjasonwallace

Book preview

Sometimes, They Want Revenge

By Jason Wallace

Published by:

Jason Wallace on Smashwords

Sometimes, They Want Revenge

Copyright © 2015 by Jason Wallace

Two lost Union soldiers, Michael Harmon and Parley Wharton, of the 12th West Virginia Volunteer Infantry Regiment, wandered in confusion, the early morning fog pervading everywhere that they went, disabling them from finding the route of advance of their brigade after the previous day’s Battle of Piedmont. They were victorious against the troops commanded by Confederate General William Grumble Jones, but in the melee of it all, had become removed from their men. Both considered themselves lucky for taking nothing more than mere scrapes in the battle, the worst of it all being a hard graze across Wharton’s right thigh from an enemy’s rifled musket ball. They were forced to make their own camp for the night prior, amid the deep woods near the battlefield, after being sent to round up Confederate stragglers, as any good commander always sought ample numbers of prisoners to take. The night came upon them sooner than they expected, creating thick cover of darkness that could not be easily gotten any clarity of, turning to the dense fog that came so early in the morning. By the time that they arose, they could not only find no obvious path of retreat from the trees but hear no sounds of their regiment or any of the others of their side of things.

We came in here from the east, Harmon cried, this being his only ascertainment of anything.

Then, we head back that direction, Wharton informed his partner, much more collected and ready to pursue that course.

Ain’t no use in that. You know damn well that Hunter is leading toward Staunton, to take it. That was the plan all along. We gotta head that way. Harmon was now more confused and strained of mind, worried that he and his companion might never find their way out of the forest and back into their ranks, maybe to even be labeled deserters and hanged, if found.

"We go southwest, then, Harmon. There ain’t a lot of worth in fussin’ over it. We