BAMF!

Lucy must have nodded off at some point during her travels on the wagon because she awoke, abruptly, when shots were fired out. Brandon slowed the horses down and told Lucy to get down in the back in case they were being ambushed by the colonial forces. Lucy had remembered from history class that they had practiced a form of guerilla warfare; so she assumed that other reenactors were hiding in the woods ready to pounce upon the British caravan. More shots were fired and Lucy watched a number of mounted soldiers race up towards the front from behind, their horses leaving a big cloud of dust; of which, Lucy promptly couched on. She peeked her head up and tried to make out any of the action but she couldn't. All she could do was hear the squirmish, some shots, some yelling, and a couple of screams. The screams got louder as the rest of the frenzied noise died down, Lucy tried to plug her ears to drown out the screams, she hated hearing the sounds of men screaming, especially during battles. It made her think of how much pain Dan might have been in. But this was supposed to be fake, right? Why would men make such realistic and blood-curdling noises when it was simply a game?

Lucy felt a strong arm tug on hers, she looked up into the chilled eyes of Colonel Tavington. He was still on his horse and Brandon was not on the wagon any longer.

"Come with me. We need your assistance up at the front." his hand tightened on her upper arm.

"Are you crazy? I don't know how to shoot!" Lucy hissed but when Tavington's gripped tightened and she yelped, she regretted getting sassy. She forgot, these head geeks are always the most enthusiastic and he probably couldn't have cared less if she knew the rules or not, she was going to get dragged into it kicking and screaming.

His eyes narrowed "No, you stupid girl, we need you up front to tend to the wounded." His voice was tight and demanding. Lucy stared at Tavington's face and accidentily allowed herself to drift into his eyes. She must have been making one helluva dumb face because the colonel became angry and snatched her from the wagon. Struggling, Lucy was hoisted under Tavington's arm and he cantered to the front lines. Lucy cries were futile.

The gal was dropped onto her duffett, a cloud of dirt billowing around her. She glared up at the colonel who merely smirked at her from atop his mount before he rode off. Brandon came over and helped Lucy to her feet, he was covered in blood, paint rather. It had to be paint or whatever they used in these types of situations. Lucy was being led by Brandon through a throng of soldiers who were milling around, some were looking into the woods watching for the enemy forces.

Lucy walked over to a crying man laying on the ground, his shin appeared to be completely shattered and bloody. Bone was splintering out of the skin and there was a gaping hole with blood pouring from it. It looked completely real as did the man's tears. There was so much blood.

Brandon shoved at Lucy "I need you to get the men to start a fire, we are going to have to cauterize this wound in order for him to survive until we reach an area to set up the tents."

Lucy stopped, her mouth agape "Wait. What do you mean cauterize? Do you mean burn him?"

"Yes. To stop the bleeding. He's been shot in the lower leg. see?" Brandon urged her eyes back to the bleeding man's injury.

"Shot? you mean with real bullets?" Her eyes widened with horror "What kind of game is this? You actually shoot each other?"

Brandon looked at Lucy incredulously "Game? This isn't a game Miss Lucy. This is a war and this man has been shot in the leg. Now we cannot waste anymore time with this nonsense. Get a fire started!"

Lucy backed up, her eyes burning with tears. This was going way too far. These people were shooting each other so they could be as authentic as possible. She turned and smacked into Redhead "Fire"

"What miss?"

"Fire. The doctor needs a fire." She backed up and continued to do so, shaking her head.

The soldier nodded in agreement "Of course. We will get on it straight away." he turned and rallied a few other men to help him.

Lucy backed up and then turned into a dead run down the road and into the woods. She found a trail, albeit a narrow dirt one, but a trail nonetheless. She ran down the trail until her lungs burned and she slowed to a walk. She veered off into a clearing in the woods and slumped on the ground against a tree. She hated trees right now but she hated these reenactors more. Brandon was nice enough until he wanted to play with fire against one of his friends. Lucy dragged her legs up against her chest and slumped her elbows down onto her knees, dragging her hands through her hair. She could feel the tears burning in the corners of her eyes but she tried to hold them at bay. What good was crying? She hadn't cried when she got injured, she hadn't cried when she couldn't find her way home, she hadn't cried when Mister Haughty-Pants-on-His-Horse dumped her on her keester. Why now?