Richmond Rail Heist #8

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“His cousin is in the Georgia 63rd,” Will gestured to Rufus, “a sergeant, and we’re headed down there."

“Georgia 63rd’s with Crittenden, in Kentucky,” said the first Southerner.

“Zollicoffer,” said the second Southerner, speaking around his clay pipe.

“Crittenden. Well, maybe Zollicoffer. But they ain’t in Georgia. You’re goin’ the wrong way. Maybe you best stay with us.”

“Zollicoffer?” asked Will. “I thought he - I thought the Federals got him.”

“Don’t you believe it. He’s in Kentucky, and holding the Gap. You boys got a long way to go if you want to join him. Why not join with us?”

“Who are you?” asked Will

“Georgia 101st,” said the shorter Southerner, standing up straight and taking his pipe out of his mouth for the first time, “finest unit this side of the Mississippi. You’re much better with us. We’ll be joining Lee, to help him with Mitchel. We’ve got artillery,” he gestured at a small, blue-painted cannon sitting in front of the church.

Rufus walked over to the cannon, followed by Jones. It was an old-fashioned piece, probably bronze, probably dating to the War for Independence. The blue paint had been sloppily applied and both trunnions were gone. “When was the last time you fired this?” Rufus asked.

“Yesterday,” said the first Southerner. "Mitchel tried to takin’ the town and we beat him off. Shot his horse out form under him.”

“Impossible,” said Jones, speaking for the first time.

“What?” asked the second Southerner.

“The whole touch hole is…”

“Jones means that that’s impressive for two men and a cannon to turn Mitchel away,” Will said quickly.

“Damn right,” said the second Southerner. “Sent him packin' and we’ll do it again. You should join us.”

“I don’t think we could join you - we’re not that good. We’d only be getting in your way,” said Will.

“Oh,” said the first Southerner. “Well, yes you would. Come on, Jem,” he said to the second Southerner, “we got to get ready for Mitchel.”

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