Legacy of Lies
by
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“What you want us to do, Cap’n?” asked Willie nervously. “You got somethin’ in mind for the three of us.” Formats Book Details Brandon Mason was born to the life of ease on a She was born in 1947 in a veteran’s trailer park in
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” He grinned at the three anxious faces. “I have a proposition that could make us all rich. It may be a little distasteful to begin with but that will soon pass. It all depends on how badly you want to live. Are you interested?”
“Well sure, Cap’n,” agreed Willie. “Ain’t none of us ever had much. I don’t much care how dirty the job is, I shore wouldn’t mind bein’ rich for a change. It’d be real good to be rich.”
Leroy and Jake both nodded their heads in agreement.
“Well then, men, we can start right there.” He indicated the corpses a short distance away.
“There’s bound to be something on those bodies we can use. Are you willing to do what it takes, or do you need some more time to think about it?”
The three looked at each other, remembering Pete and all the others; seeing in their mind all the dead, bloody and mangled bodies of their friends and comrades.
They recalled letters from home telling of all the horrible things the damn Yankees had done, cattle slaughtered, their women raped, houses looted and burned and crops destroyed.
None of them needed any coaxing; they felt they had a right to whatever they could find. After all, to the victor belong the spoils. Willie opened his mouth wide to give the rebel yell, but Leroy knew what he was about to do and clamped his hand over Willie’s mouth lest he alert the yanks to their whereabouts. “Be quiet, you fool. You want them yanks to hear you and come running back here? You got to be quiet.” He turned to Brandon, “Right, Cap’n?”
“Silence is a virtue,” he agreed, “especially now. If we get caught, we get hanged. Go quietly and quickly. Take every thing you can find no matter how small. There’s no time to waste. No telling when the yanks’ll come back to bury their dead. Now go. Meet me back here in half an hour. After that I may be hard to find.”
On through the twilight they went, swiftly examining each corpse, removing anything of value, any thing they could use.
In the inside pocket of the man’s bloody jacket he found a small book. The uncertain light made it hard to tell what it was. He wiped the blood off the cover and put it in his own pocket to examine later. He also found some coffee tied up in a paper packet and a small amount of tobacco.
A quick search of his trouser pockets yielded up a handful of coins, both gold and silver, and a gold money clip containing some folded greenbacks. He didn’t even bother to stop to count the money; he just pocketed his findings and went on to the next victim.
Willie was delighted to relieve several bodies of their burden of jewelry and money, too. He was lucky enough to find an excellent pair of boots that fit his big feet. He hadn’t had any shoes for almost a year, and he’d never had a ring or a watch in his whole life. Not too many farmers did, certainly none he knew. He was going to be rich! They were all going to be rich! Hell. Come to think of it, he was rich now. Imagine! Finally he would have enough to eat and wear. Maybe even a horse. Oh, especially a horse. His feet hurt like the dickens.
All they had to do was stick with Cap’n Mason and every thing would come out all right. He felt no stirring of his conscience at what he was doing. He was simply obeying orders like a good soldier. Besides, he was afraid not to. He wished he had been the one to come up with the idea first. Actually, he figured, the damn Yankees were most likely doing the same thing on a much larger scale, seeing as how they had liberty to rob civilians and soldiers alike.
Cap’n was right.. A man had to do what a man
had to do to survive in a world gone crazy. It was getting dark and they were grabbing anything that felt like metal or paper. It was completely dark as the trio made their way back to the meeting place in the woods.
They waited for several minutes.
About the Book
About the Author
Since she was small she was interested in art and drawing and is now a self taught artist. A member in good standing of the International Poet’s Society, she has had many of her poems published. She became interested in writing as a hobby, making up stories for the grandchildren who delight to hear them.
When disability limited her activities, she became serious about writing. This book is her first and is dedicated to the memory of her late husband Staff Sgt. Howard L Bales. Blessed with a unique sense of humor and a great imagination she has combined these gifts to create this work of fiction for your enjoyment. She has had no formal instruction as a writer, nevertheless, this first effort is sure to thrill and delight any reader.
