Free Plantation Nation (9781621352877) by Mercedes King

volunteers. We'll
show 'em!" The man stabbed his knife into the air.
    "Yeah. Let 'em move ol' Jeff Davis up here.
It'll make him easier to kill."
    Emma realized she had begun to cower from
their intensity. Could hatred for the South be this tangible? Could
men be so eager to kill their countrymen? But on the other hand,
wasn't that the sole purpose of this army, to subdue — even kill — those cantankerous Southerners? And no matter how she dressed,
wasn't Emma a Southerner?
    New doubts crept into her head. Could she
really kill someone? Indeed, Emma wanted slavery put to death, but
did she have the gall, the anger, the fortitude to kill someone
over a misinterpretation of right and wrong?
    "Well, well, if it ain't li'l tadpole."
    Emma recognized Nash's voice before she
looked up from the campfire and saw him. That smug look of his
awash in amber from the firelight. Emma's chest tightened. The last
thing she wanted was to begin her conscription by making enemies
among her new comrades.
    "Nash." Emma kept her voice level,
indifferent.
    "Kind of surprised to see you made it here
all on your own, Edmonds. I figure a li'l fella like you would
probably get lost or stepped on, especially with no Sergeant
Matthews to look out for you." Nash laughed and others joined in,
seemingly to appease him.
    Emma tried to relax her shoulders and not
appear rigid. She almost risked a glance at Graham to see if she
could count on any support from her new tent mate, but Emma didn't
chance it for fear of appearing needy and unable to stand up for
herself.
    "I can hold my own." Emma wanted to sound
good natured, not confrontational. "No need for you to worry about
me."
    "Is that right? 'Cause I figure the
mosquitoes might carry you off."
    "That's enough, Nash," said a man two seats
down from Emma.
    "Yeah, says who?"
    The man, still chewing on jerky, blinked
lazily in Nash's direction, uninterested in a squabble or Nash's
barbaric showmanship.
    "Last I checked, you ain't no officer here,
Reynolds. And just look at him." Nash pointed to Emma. "Tell me he
ain't funny looking with that hair o' his." Nash whipped off Emma's
hat and rustled her hair. "Who cuts your hair, a blind barber with
a chisel?" Nash enjoyed his own remark while the others looked
away, perhaps grateful not to be Nash's target. Emma sprang from
her seat and went for her hat, but Nash held it at bay. "And looky
here."
    Nash picked up Emma and laid her across his
shoulders. He hollered and danced around the fire. Other men stood
and protested, but Nash hooted louder.
    "See, he don't hardly weigh more 'n a sack o'
feed. I think I've eaten chicken legs bigger 'n him." He chuckled
so hard he half set, half dropped Emma.
    Emma had kept from screaming, but she landed
on her rear. The other men gave her looks of pity or had suppressed
smiles on their faces. Anger and humiliation flared in Emma.
    "Now what do we have here?" Nash bent down
and picked up a small picture. He held it close to the fire. "I
guess tadpole's got himself a sweetie."
    Emma realized it was her picture of Sylvia — the only picture she had of her
sister. Perhaps she had been foolish bringing it, but Emma knew in
the days ahead — difficult days
especially — s he would miss her and long to see her more than
ever. She had hoped the captured memory of her would be enough to
soften the separation.
    "Give it to me, Nash. Right now."
    "Oh, you want it, tadpole?" Nash stretched
out his arm and held the picture over the fire. "Come get it."
    Emma got to her feet and charged Nash. She
landed her shoulder in Nash's stomach, knocking the wind out of him
as they hit the ground. She rolled Nash onto his side and squared
two punches into his kidney. Nash moaned and curled his body like
an infant. Emma stood, then reached down and took her picture from
Nash's hand. She blew off the dust and put it back into her
pocket.
    Someday, she would have to thank Alexander
for using that move on her a time or two.
    To her surprise, the men