(rought draft here of a new novel I'm starting. Feel free to critique, throw darts, call me an untalented hack. its all cool.)

beginnings and Ends

by ANW

The pain wasn't the first thing Elias Tyler thought of when he woke up, although it came a split second later like a herd of cattle thundering across his face. The first thought he had, as his eyes slowly opened, was "So that's how it all ends."

Then the pain raced in and he screamed in agony. The sky was gray haze above him, and he was overwhelmed with the thick smell of gunpowder and a coppery taste in his mouth. His eyes darted, looking for something to lock in on, but he couldn't see anything beyond the haze. He tried lifting his head, his arms, his legs, but nothing would move. Not even his fingers would twitch.

I'm not dead, he thought to himself. I'm here on the battlefield, I've been hit, but I'm not dead. He wondered if anyone knew. Was he alone out here? The only sound he could hear was buzzing from his damaged eardrums.

"I'm not dead" he said to no one in particular. No one in particular responded.

"I'M NOT DEAD, I SAID!!"

"There's someone over here that says he's not dead" he heard faintly in reply through the buzzing, although he couldn't see anyone.

"Check to be sure. He may be lying." Another voice said.

Elias saw a ragged old man wearing the Continental Army uniform come parting through the haze. He was dragging a canvas bag behind him and was stooped over looking into his eyes.

"You're sure you're not dead?" he said. "You look dead."

"I'm not. Can you please help me?" Elias pleaded.

The old man grunted, set down the canvas sack and bent down to look into Elias's face.

"What's your name?"

"Elias Tyler. 4th Cavalry, Massachusetts. I think I've been hit, I can't move anything".

The old man looked him over and grimaced. "Yer hit all right. Hit pretty bad. Wouldn't expect you to move those legs. They're a sorry sight."

Then the old man swung his musket around from behind his back and before Elias could protest, he crashed it on his kneecap. Elias screamed.

"So you're feeling that, are you?" the old man asked, with a serious look on his face.

"YES!! YES!! DEAR GOD YES!! OWW!! OWW!!" Elias screeched in pain.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO THAT SOLIDER?" Elias heard the second man bellow.

"He said he couldn't feel his legs. I just wanted to check to see if they would be needin' to be amputated."

"Well, clearly he can, so stop bludgeoning him would you?" Elias saw the second man approach. He was a hulking man with a giant red walrus moustache. He elbowed the old man out of the way and stood looking down at Elias. From this angle he looked 17 feet tall. He stopped looking at Elias's face and looked down at his legs.

"You'll keep your legs I suppose. We'll need to get you to the hospital camp. Reginald, get back over here and help me load him up"

Grateful for the giants intervension, but nervous about being dragged on the old man's canvas sack, Elias tensed up. Just then, he heard a horse whinny and he was being lifted up into the air by the giant soldier. The soldier planted him on the back of the horse and swung his huge meaty legs over the horse, behind Elias and took off. Every bump was a little torture. The giant's one arm wrapped around Elias to keep him from falling off. Feeling his eyelids close, he welcomed the sleep that came next.