The Turning of Zachary Degaud (A Witch Hunter Saga Short Story) by Nicole R. Taylor

 
     
     
     
    Petersburg, Virginia
    April, 1865

    Z achary Degaud was twenty-three years old, born in Ashburton, Louisiana, recently raised to Captain in the Confederate Army. America was at war with itself and he was tasked with the only thing he was good at; fighting.
    Much to the disgust of his father, his first born son had run off and enlisted in the army of his own free will. He had no mind for business and the society trappings the plantation came with. That was for his younger brother, Samuel, to pursue. He was of a much more logical approach, where as Zac; well, he was good with his hands.
    His newly appointed infantry unit had been stationed in Virginia, along with ten others. It was a chance to see part of America that they had never laid eyes on before, and to do what they had been trained for. Killing Union soldiers in the name of the Glorious South.
    Zac had made it through the entire Civil War until now. If they made it home in one piece, he was guaranteed to make Major and then, perhaps his parents would be proud of his accomplishments. When the Union had attacked Petersburg, it had landed them nine months in the god-forsaken trenches, until the General had ordered the retreat.
    The Confederates had evacuated the entire city after the Union had overrun their defenses. All their routes were blocked save for one. Their last remaining option was to retreat west and that's what they had been commanded to do by General Lee himself. Zac thought it was a trap, but they had their orders and they would follow if they valued their lives.
    They'd been dogged by the perusing army and had been engaged twice in Amelia County. Now, word had it that Union Cavalry blocked their route to their safe haven in Danville. Their food was gone and morale was almost nonexistent. He had to move his men as fast as they could before they were cut off. But, that's exactly what happened. It was late afternoon when they realized they had been separated from the bulk of their forces. Three quarters in front and clear, but the last remaining quarter behind. Boxed in and cut off.
    The Union Calvary line was advancing through the woods and would be in their line of sight any second. All thirty-five men of Zac's unit scrambled to form a semblance of a line, half their number standing and the other half with one knee to the ground directly in front. Zac was in the front and center, one of the only Confederate Captains he knew that would stand and fight with his men. The rest he considered cowards not worthy of their ranks.
    As the first of the Unions came into their line of sight, he shouted, "Fire!"
    The crack was deafening as the thirty-six rifles went off, white smoke billowing in front of them, the reek of gunpowder in the air. The sharp cries of the men and horses in front of them signaled that at least some of their bullets had found their marks, but the line was still advancing. Their rifles were designed for long range shooting, not close range. Most of the shots had gone right over the Union soldiers heads.
    "Reload, reload!" he shouted to his men, who hastily dropped the butts of their rifles into the ground, stuffing their next rounds as fast as they could.
    "Arms at the ready! Aim low!" he shouted, as all thirty-five rifles were cocked and ready to fire. They had to split the cavalry's advance so they could retreat. If they couldn't, then it would have to be hand-to-hand until someone was dead or captured.
    "Fire!" The crack of their rifles split the air around them as men and horses fell. They were advancing too quickly for another round.
    Dropping his rifle, he shouted, "Swords!" Steel rang as all thirty-five men drew without question.
    "Legs!" He ordered, trusting his men to understand that they needed to cut down their enemies mounts if they had any chance. They spread out, swords at the ready for when the Unionists would break through their line.
    They were thirty-five against a whole regiment of at least fifty, about fifteen had