Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the show. I got the idea from this one, however, from reading "Desperado."
4/19/1775
Madeleine Fenton waited, as she did every morning, on the porch for the post rider to arrive. It had only been a week, but it felt like years since she'd hear from her son, Daniel. She worried about him. Relations between the colonies and England had long since reached a fever pitch. Five years ago, in fact, John Adams, a local lawyer and close friend of the family, defended a group of soldiers who'd been arrested for killing five Bostonians in what quickly became known as "The Boston Massacre."
Last month, Daniel and some friends had been out painting the town red one night when they'd all agreed to join the Army on a whim. Daniel, being only 14, lied about his age when he joined, claiming he was fifteen. Her husband, Jack, had gone off to work at the printing house a few hours ago. Off in the distance, a horse's whinny came through the crisp morning air. Madeleine stood as she watched the horse and rider galloping up the dirt path to her home in Braintree, Massachusetts.
"Mornin' Mrs. Fenton. Got your mail." He presented her with a few envelopes and the newspaper.
"Thank you, Charles." Handing the rider a package containing a pair of socks she'd made him for his 15th birthday, she added, "I have a package for him, by the way." She tossed him a coin for his services and sent him on his way. Flipping through the letters, she found the one she was looking for.
18/4/1775
Dearest mother,
I was so certain I wanted to join the Army and fight for our freedom as a nation, but now I'm not sure. I'm afraid. Tomorrow I will experience war firsthand. Word around camp is that we are expected to face Cornwallis soon. How can a fledgling nation hope to stand against the greatest military the world has ever known? But I can't think of that now. After all, a chain is only as strong as its weakest link.
On a lighter note, I've made many friends around camp. I met one man from Kentucky, Charles Atkins. His wife, Annabelle, is expecting a child, their third. He has a son, Edward, who's twelve, and a daughter, Gabrielle, who's fifteen. Him and I became fast friends, something the commanding officers advise against, should they be lost in battle.
Another friend I made is a young man about my age from Mary-land. His name is Samuel Manson. Like me, he, too, lied about his age, leaving home with no sweetheart to bid farewell to. A smart boy, he hopes to attend Harvard someday. Maybe I can get Mr. Adams to put in a good word for him.
Fear not for my health, for they are feeding me well. The food is healthy, if, at times, somewhat unappetizing, and the portions, while by no means large, are big enough to keep one from hunger until the next meal. Just last night we had some rather dry turkey served with biscuits and gravy.
Send my love to father and Jasmine. Your loving son,
Daniel
As she put down the letter, Madeleine wept and prayed for her son's protection.
Meanwhile, in Concord, Massachusetts, Daniel's heart beat in his chest as though it were one of the drums in the fife-and-drum corps that followed them. With bated breath, he marched with his fellow colonists as the British, in turn, advanced toward them. Daniel's young life flashed before his eyes as his commanding officer yelled out "Company, halt! Make ready! Take aim!" Daniel loaded his rifle, which he shouldered before he pressed it to his shoulder and aimed it at the head of an enemy soldier, but before his CO could yell out "Fire!", a local farmer, near whose field they had met for battle, discharged his firearm, possibly as a warning against the British, unbeknownst and unexpected to both armies. This later became known as "the shot heard 'round the world."
Alarmed by the sudden noise, Daniel instinctively pulled back on the trigger, catching the soldier in the head. Fortunately, he fired as his CO gave the order. At that same moment, an earth-shattering boom filled the air. Daniel felt blood splatter across his face as the head of the soldier beside him was ripped off its neck by a British cannonball.
An instant later, the Colonial Army was given the order to charge. Screaming from adrenaline, Daniel ran headlong with his fellow Americans into the British ranks. Hearing the cock of a pistol near his head, Daniel turned and gored a redcoat right through the chest. Turning sharply on his heels, he just barely had time to react as he saw another enemy soldier bearing down on him. Taking aim, Daniel fired his pistol right between the other soldier's eyes.
He was just about to reload when he felt the butt of a British musket ram itself into the side of his head. Dazed, he watched as the soldier aimed his firearm at Daniel's head only to be stabbed in the side by Daniel's close friend, Charles Atkins, a twenty-something with a surprisingly hard-edged face for someone so young, the sign of a farmer. Trying to stand, Daniel's knees felt like gelatin. Finally, he succumbed to the black spots in front of his eyes as his legs gave one last heave.
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Ha, ha, cliffie! Naughty, naughty me. I love writing cliffhangers. Will Danny be alright? Stick around to find out.