Tuck Everlasting, The Continued Story.

Chapter 21

A/N: I made a trailer for Tuck Everlasting: The continued story, as a way of saying Happy Holidays! And thank you for your support! Check it out, and let me know if you guys like it! >>>>>> Its on the side. :D

Miles snapped a small twig with his fingers, sighing. He looked up from his log at the man who sat before him. He was 6 feet tall, with thick red hair bursting from the tight hold his cap held on his head. He looked to be a little older than Miles, with harsh green eyes that seemed like they had seen a hard life. It was the red hair that had brought back the memory from Gettysburg. That mop of hair that had been similarly tucked beneath his Union cap so many years ago.

They had been been awaiting the battle for three days, and Miles was beginning to feel restless. By now, Miles had known about the source of his immortality for about twenty years, and he no longer feared rushing into the battlefield. The thing that he feared now, was watching his friends die. He had been careful not to engage in conversations around the campfires, trying to avoid creating friendships with the soldiers. However, it always seemed inevitable. A sympathetic smile, the offering of a piece of bread, the sharing of similar fears; all of these things somehow would stem a relationship between the soldiers. A kinship of similar experiences that brought them together.

But the thing that shook Miles the most wasn't simply watching them die. It was watching how fast they died. In all of the wars he had fought, he had never seen his comrades fall as fast as they did during this Civil war. Entire lines of men could be brought down in seconds. Picked off at random.

Miles studied the man that sat before him. He could almost imagine his uniform shifting back into the blue uniform he had worn so long ago. He remembered the moment that they had shared, when the battle had finally began. How they had walked onto the battlefield with such confidence. How their brothers in arms had fallen around them like flies.

When the man marching in front of them was suddenly shot through the head, they had turned to each other. The man's green eyes seemed to see into Miles's with deep understanding. Miles remembered how the man's face had showed no fear. Only sadness.

The man sitting before Miles wiped his red nose on his sleeve, leaning back against the tree. "I remember you." he said. Miles nodded to the man.

"And I you." he replied. "What is your name?"

The man scratched his head. "Bill Flynn." he said. "And you're Miles Tack."

"Tuck." Miles corrected. Bill chewed on his lip, nodding his head slowly. They were silent for a moment.

"So," Bill said quietly. "Gettysburg. I don't mean to sound rude, but how are you still, uh-" he paused, eyeing Miles. Miles leaned forward.

"I was going to ask you the same question." Miles said. "We got ours from a spring. Back in America." 

Bill's eyes grew wide, and he leaned forward as well. "We?" he asked. "You mean there are others?"

Miles grinned. "Yes. My family. Oh, and my brother's fiancee." Bill opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it, thinking. He breathed heavily.

"I thought I was the only one," he said more to himself than to Miles. Miles breathed in.

"I thought we were too." he said. "So how did you get it?" he asked. Bill picked up a twig from the ground, and fiddled it with his fingers.

"I honestly don't know." he said. "I came to America in 1697. I had decided that I wanted to explore west. See what was out there. At one point, maybe a year after I left home, I was shot through the heart with an arrow." He paused, placing his hand over his heart. "It didn't even leave a mark. After that, I decided that it was time for me to find my way back home."