Free Shattered Lives (Flynn Family Saga Book 1) by Erica Graham Page B

the guards beat him.
    Then, he got sick.  He was feverish, and he dreamed
of the day his father died.  He drew his knife and tried to kill Pathfinder,
but the knife turned into a snake in his hand and bit him.
    Flynn cried out.
    Joseph O’Malley woke him.  The little guard wore a
plaid shirt and Levi's.  He held out his uniform.  “The trousers are too short,
but I’m pretty sure the tunic will fit you, at least well enough to pass in the
dark.”
    Flynn shook his head.  “I can’t.  You’ll be court-martialed.”
    O’Malley shrugged.  “It’s all right.”  He met Flynn’s
gaze levelly.  “Even if they execute me, it’s all right.  The things I did when
I first became a guard...well, let’s just say I’d like to make reparations.”
    Flynn nodded solemnly.  “Good luck.”
    O’Malley nodded back.  “You too.”  The two men shook
hands.  Then Flynn took off his shirt and pulled on the tunic.  The sleeves
were several inches too short, but O’Malley handed him a pair of gloves that
covered his thin wrists.
    Flynn got up.  He turned back once.  “Thank you.”
    “Go!  Before I lose my nerve!”
    Flynn nodded.  He hesitated.  Then, he hit O’Malley
in the jaw as hard as he could.  The little man looked surprised as he fell
backward.  Flynn knelt.  O’Malley was unconscious, but his heartbeat was
strong.  Then, Flynn walked slowly out of the north gate.  As soon as he left
the city limits, he began to run.  He stole a shirt and a pair of trousers. 
They were big in the waist, but at least they were long enough.  He started to
walk north.  He had no food, no water, no plans.  For a long time, he simply
enjoyed the freedom of being able to walk in any direction he wanted.  He
trapped a rabbit and cooked it over an open fire.  The meat was stringy and
tough, but he thought it tasted better than the food he used to eat at Black
Birches.
    Flynn continued to walk northward.  He had a vague
idea of reaching St. Jo, but before he got out of Georgia, he ran into a Union
patrol.  “Halt!  Who goes there?”
    Flynn raised his hands.  “I am Lieutenant Robert
Sean Flynn of the South Carolina First Battalion.”
    “Deserter?”
    “No sir.  I was imprisoned in Camp Sumter.”
    “Camp Sumter?”  The captain dismounted and came over
to him.
    “Yes sir.”
    The captain rubbed his chin.  “What the hell were
you doing in a Confederate prison camp?”
    Flynn sighed.  “It’s a long story, sir.”
    The captain nodded.  He turned to one of his men.  “Sergeant,
take this man into custody.”
    “Yes sir.”
    Flynn sighed.  Once again, he was a prisoner of
war.  But this time, he was treated well.  The sergeant took him back to camp. 
He was allowed to bathe and shave, and he ate with the other soldiers.  The
sergeant was an older man with a full beard.  “How did you escape?”
    Flynn sopped up the gravy with a slice of bread.  “It’s
a long story.”
    The sergeant grinned.  “We’ve got all night.”
    Flynn laughed.  “All right.”  He began with meeting
Sam on Belle Isle.
    “Major Sam Anders?”  The sergeant raised his bushy
eyebrows.
    Flynn nodded.
    The sergeant shook his head.  “Who would have
figured?  I served under him until he was captured.  It’s good to hear he’s
alive.”
    “He was when I last saw him, but he escaped Camp Sumter
about a month ago, and I don’t know what happened to him after that.”
    “My name’s Frank Lennox.”  The sergeant held out his
hand.
    “Robert Sean Flynn.”  He took Frank’s hand.
    “What in tarnation were you doing in a Confederate
prison camp?”  Frank pulled up a barrel and sat down next to Flynn.
    Flynn sighed.  “I was seconded to the South Carolina
First Battalion.”
    “The Sharpshooters?”
    Flynn nodded again.
    Frank whistled.  “Boy, I sure am glad I never came
up against you fellas in combat.  Were you there at the battle of Fort Wagner?”
    Flynn looked away.  “Yes, but I