Lincoln's Wizard Read Free

lieutenant’s voice drew Hendricks’ attention. The starlight shell had burned down, but there was still enough light to see that the Monitor had moved. It walked out into the river, pouring fire into the enemy’s southern flank. Hundreds of Gray soldiers were rushing it, trying to swarm up the legs, shifting the entire Rebel line left.
    A surge of pure adrenalin rushed through Hendricks, and he swore. “They’re trying to flank them,” he said. “It’s pulled the whole Rebel line out of formation.”
    “They’re going to have to reinforce the weakened line from the right,” Major Thompson said.
    Hendricks nodded in agreement.
    “Get your artillery to the right,” he told the major. “And pass the word to the cavalry officer,” he said to the lieutenant. “Tell him to prepare a charge on the right flank.”
    The men saluted and scrambled down the hill. Across the field, the starlight shell burnt out, leaving the staccato firing of the Gatling gun and the Rebel artillery the only lights to be seen. Hendricks hadn’t expected the shoestring crew aboard the Monitor to do any actual fighting. He’d hoped the mere presence of the tall gun on the field would make the Rebels think better of a fight.
    Whoever operated the Monitor had done something no one had expected, and thanks to that bold move, they had a chance. That man was a damn genius.
    O O O
    “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Braxton yelled down through the floor grate.
    “Just keep shooting,” Sergeant Fulton called up from the pilot’s seat. “Whatever you’re doing, you sure kicked over their hornet’s nest.”
    A cannonball careened off the iron body of the Monitor , and Braxton would swear it rattled one of his fillings loose. When he could hear again, he leaned down toward the grate.
    “Get us out of here, Fulton,” he yelled.
    “I can see our lines now,” Fulton yelled back. “Welcome to the war, Lieutenant!”
    The Monitor lurched and began moving. Braxton loaded another shell in his gun and fired into a knot of Grays that were forming up around the artillery. The recoil pushed back against the tall gun’s motion but Braxton knew that Fulton could compensate. Almost immediately the Monitor jerked to a halt, teetering dangerously before coming to rest.
    Braxton leaned down to the grate, but before he could call down, Laurie’s voice reached up to him.
    “Braxton, get down here,” he yelled.
    Braxton slid out of the gunner’s chair and opened the trap door that led down to the Monitor ’s body. As he descended the ladder, he saw Fulton lying on the deck behind the pilot’s chair. Laurie held him, pressing a cloth to a bloody wound in the Sergeant’s head.
    “It came though the view slot,” Laurie said.
    “Will he live?” he asked.
    Laurie looked at him and their eyes met before he shook his head. Braxton opened his mouth to speak but another cannon ball hit the Monitor. Its iron hide rang like a bell.
    Braxton stepped over Fulton and slipped into the pilot’s chair. The shot that hit the Sergeant had come through the view port, a rectangular opening that allowed the pilot to see the ground. Braxton reached up and closed it until only a small slit remained. He flinched as bullets hit the armor and shattered.
    “Is there anything you can do for Fulton?” he called to Laurie.
    “No,” Laurie said. “He’s dead. Should I get back on the Gatling gun?”
    Braxton shook his head as he grasped the levers that operated the Monitor ’s legs. “With the view port closed this far I can’t tell which direction we should go. I need you up in the turret.”
    Laurie scrambled up the ladder as Braxton eased the Monitor forward. He could see the ground where the legs would step but not much else.
    “Go left,” Laurie called down after a moment.
    Braxton did as he was told, moving the Monitor left and forward at the same time.
    “They’re moving their artillery,” Laurie called. “They’ve cut us off from the field. Can we