The Band of Rotten: A Sanders Sides Story

The Rogue Soldier

United States, 1860

'Hot' was the only thing that came to mind. Scorching heat that melts the skin into sweat. All he could see was the endless span of dry soil in front of him. It was unfortunate he had to leave in such a hurry. He had been walking for a few weeks now. The only thing he had with him was a canteen filled with already-warm water. Still, it was better than nothing. He took a chug of water, and soon the canteen was empty. He let out a heavy sigh, seeing the desert was never-ending. He had yet to see another person in the last six days.

He continued his walk under the sun until he heard something. It was unmistakably running water. And right he was, the gurgling sound of water seemed to echo around him. He followed the sound and there, he found a small oasis fed by a few springs sprouting out of the ground. The water was frigid, a welcome change from the sweltering weather. He sank his canteen into the knee-deep water, filling it with water. He then plunged his entire face into the water, practically inhaling the water to quench his thirst.

There were thick bushes framing the small pool of water, some as tall as his waist. He hid under the shadow, avoiding the burning sun. There was no way he was going to let the sun bake his face. He looked down on his attire—a well-tailored military uniform, the insignia sewn onto the thick fabric of the uniform. He let out a deep sigh, no longer feeling proud of his uniform he used to wear with pride. It reminded him of the reason he had to travel alone in the desert. A tainted soldier. A fugitive. An absolute coward.

Once when he was a child, there was a circus going around cities. Father had taken him and his siblings to see. Countless animals, people and shows. Oh, the shows. There were magic shows where people would swallow fire, tamed lions and tigers, acrobatics and songs. It was a kind of magic that had never left his mind. And when he went home, he had told his mother with so much excitement bundled up in his tiny frame, shouting "mamá, I'm going to be a performer and I'm going to make you proud!" Her mother had laughed merrily, carrying him to bed to sleep.

It was fate—if it was real at all—which decided for him to be a soldier instead. He loved being a soldier. Helping others and the country. He was able to see the world outside his humble little village and provide for his family even with the possible expense of his life. It was unfortunate he had to leave alone. And truly, there were no regrets trailing behind him as he believed what he did to be right. None but one. A small weight rested in the pocket of his uniform—a silver bracelet with a tiny ruby sitting on its center. He will keep it safe, if only for his beloved sister.

The sun was starting to cast long shadows on the ground. The sound of water was loud and clear in the middle of the lonely desert. It was time to start walking again, at least until the sun goes to sleep in the horizon. He stretched his aching joints before continuing his long walk. He had been on his feet for a little over fourteen days, walking all the way from the south. He had hoped to find safety in the New World; an independent colony. Perhaps he would be safer there where no one will pursue him for his alleged crime.

As the sky went dark, the stars started to let out their shine. The deep blue of the evening sky wore the stars like jewels, glittering with beauty. In the distance, he could make out the vague shape of a tree, standing alone proudly in the middle of the desert. Under it was a speck of glowing orange: a fire. He quickened his pace, eager to find another person after having been alone for two weeks. He could feel the aching joints of his legs crying out for him to slow down, but the loneliness building in him begged not to be ignored.

"Hey!" He called out. He could see a man sitting on the ground by the fire. "Hey, you there!"

The man looked up from where he sat and stood, approaching the new comer without hesitance. The soldier finally ran closer. He rested his hands on his knees, trying to draw some needed air into his lungs after his short run. He looked up to the man from his hunched posture, unfolding himself into his impressive height.