Slipping Into The Future

Chapter 15

With weapons and supplies, they make their way into the woods under the guise that they be on a special mission ordered by Washington, himself. Hamilton keeps the paper tucked into the coat pocket — uncertain of whose uniform he had stolen, but tries to not think too deeply on it.

He feels utterly numb again as they distance themselves from camp; tis as if the space between himself and Laurens sucks his life from his body. Hamilton had cried into Lin's shoulder and felt chillingly cold to the core afterwards as if he had drained everything he had left inside of him.

He worries his lip between his teeth, remembering how warm he felt whenever he glowed — as if his burning passion had manifested into a blue flame. Now that he is cold from outside to inside — a shiver encaptures his body at the mention of the weather — he does not know how to reignite that flame that triggered these strange abilities that brought them here.

They trudge on silently and Hamilton is quite grateful that none of his companions are pestering him on his broken composure after seeing Laurens again. He wishes to reignite the flame if only to send them home and let himself freeze to death on this godforsaken forest floor.

The air becomes cooler and crisp to their skin as they continue to walk to god knows where. Hamilton despises the feeling of ineptitude — he only hopes that he can pretend he knows what he be doing, if only for the sake of his group's sanity. Be the commander for them, do not falter. Keep them safe, do not falter. Get them home, do not falter.

Hamilton stops at the sound of a twig crunching up ahead, concerning him greatly since everyone he be with is behind him. He holds his hand out, silently gesturing at them to remain silent and still as he listens.

The wind whistles.

Wolves in the distance howl.

Rustle. Crunch.

Whispering.

Hamilton turns sharply to the others, his eyes wide as he carefully gestures with the universal sign of 'be quiet!' They nod slowly and he waves to the trees beside them. They carefully tiptoe behind the trees and Hamilton pulls his pistol out of its holster, filling it carefully without needing to look as he keeps his eyes in front of him.

It is far too dark to see a damn thing, but the darkness may also benefit them as they remain behind the row of trees. Once his pistol be loaded and ready, he winces as he clicks it and prays whoever is nearby did not hear it.

The sounds suddenly halt and Hamilton silently curses himself. Whatever is nearby heard him. He peeks around the tree and feels his bloodstream go cold as he sees the coats of the men on the path. It may be dark, but he knows they are green coats. Why did it have to be the bloody Queen's Rangers?

Hamilton squeezes his left eye shut and aims cautiously. Lin's eyes widen and he urgently shakes his head, his mouth snapping shut.

Hamilton ignores him and he exhales as he pulls the trigger.

It lights up the area in a flash and the man's skull squirts blood before he falls limp to the forest floor. Then it be dark and the Rangers holler on high alert.

Hamilton pulls out the knife and walks up to the nearest man, who is aiming his musket in the wrong direction. He slices the man's throat, his hands suddenly warm as blood pours out like a waterfall. Hamilton holds the man, wipes the blood from his hands on the green coat, and carefully puts him down, his eyes set on his next confused target.

He has fallen into a trance, his mind back in the war as he carefully sneaks up behind the other Ranger and stabs him in the back, directly into his spine. Hamilton covers his mouth as he screams, muffling the sound as he carefully places him onto the dirt.