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STAHP, Collaborate and Listen (STAHP Book Two) by Susi Hawke and Crista Crown
© 2021 Susi Hawke and Crista Crown

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Rebecca Pawlowski
Proofreading by Lori Parks, LesCourt Author Services
STAHP, COLLABORATE AND LISTEN
 SUSI HAWKE
CRISTA CROWN
 CONTENTS

1. Tank
2. Percy
3. Tank
4. Percy
5. Tank
6. Percy
7. Tank
8. Percy
9. Tank
10. Percy
11. Tank
12. Percy

Susi Hawke and Crista Crown

Also by Crista Crown
Also by Susi Hawke
Crista Crown
Susi Hawke
 1

TANK

I glared at the crowd of humans endangering the flimsy border

of caution tape blocking the street behind me. The ones closest
to me tried to pull away from the ferocity of my gaze.
Somewhere, deep inside their brains was a remnant of the animals
they used to be. And that remnant recognized me as the predator I
was, even if they didn’t realize I was a shifter.
My tiger wanted to roar. To send them scattering like a herd of
deer. Not babysit them while Team ALPHA attempted to quietly
diffuse a bomb in the diner half a block behind me.
“What’s going on?” a newcomer to the crowd asked.
“I think they’re filming a movie,” someone answered.
“I saw Daniel Radcliffe!” another declared.
I snorted. The human brain was miraculous. The line I’d been
given was to simply say that the road was blocked off for filming,
and the crowd had filled in the rest. They saw what they wanted to
see.
Except the woman who’d declared she’d seen the Harry Potter
actor. She was just straight making shit up unless she thought Ronan
was a close enough look-alike. He was kinda short and had brown
hair… but that was where the resemblance ended, in my opinion.
“Do they need any extras?” A blonde woman shoved herself in
front of me while checking her hair in a compact mirror. “I’ve done
some work before.”
 I wished the ALPHA-heads had picked almost any other story to
feed these people. Like a sewer issue. No one wanted to be
anywhere near faulty flowing sewage sludge.
I folded my arms and glared down at her. “No.”
She finally closed her compact and batted her eyes at me. “Are
you sure? I have great…” she glanced down and subtly boosted her
just barely-clad rack, “...assets.”
I snorted.
She blinked in surprise, then turned her chin up. “What? You
think you can find better? Honey, I’m an eleven out of ten.”
I gave her a full body scan before answering. “The problem is
we’re looking at completely different charts.”
Her brain was taking entirely too long to compute that sentence.
Good. Maybe she’d error out in the process and leave me alone.
“Excuse me. Pardon me. Press, coming through.”
I groaned inwardly, glancing around to see if Saint, Ronan, or Ian
were anywhere near. They were the smooth talkers. If the press had
gotten wind of what was really happening here—hell, even if it was
just someone from one of the gossip rags—I wasn’t the person they
ought to be talking to.
My job was generally simple: point me in the right direction and
let me beat shit up.
I wasn’t a brainless meathead, but I was big and strong. Sure, I
had brains, but I happily used them in prioritizing targets to hit, not
crafting shifty facades of reality.
The reporter finally popped through the crowd, accidentally
sending the blonde stumbling sideways in her ridiculous heels. He
gave her a sideways glance, blushing slightly with a mumbled
apology, but otherwise ignored her as she dramatically gasped and
let out a fake sob. A clear cry for attention that garnered several
people’s attention.
But not the attention she wanted, judging by the sharp glare she
shot me.
Points to the little guy for distracting the pushy broad for a
moment. Just for that, I was prepared to be nice to him.
 Until he flashed his badge at me. “Excuse me, I’m not here for
the movie or whatever, I promise. I’m not lying just to get past you,
either. I’m scheduled for an interview at City Diner for a story I’m
working on.”
That actually grabbed my attention. City Diner was where the
Team ALPHA guys were working on the bomb. It was plausible, but
unlikely, that whatever this guy was working on wasn’t connected…
Unless he’d actually bought the lie about filming and was trying
to sneak onto the non-existent set.
I shook my head. “Sorry, nobody gets through. I’ve got orders.”
The small man scratched his artfully shaggy hair, and I caught a
whiff of something… enticing. I’d been trying to ignore the
overwhelming scents of city and humanity swirling around me for
the last hour, but this guy…
His brown eyes darted, looking up at me, then at my bicep, my
hands, and back to my face. His long, sharp nose twitched as I
suddenly realized what I was scenting.
“Mate.” His lips framed the word, but if he’d said it aloud, it had
only been in a whisper.
For a moment, the world around us blurred as I focused on him.
The buzz of the city faded to a hum, only the rise and fall of his
breath rasping in my ears.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Percy. Percy Dunfell. And you?”
“Tank!”
Instinctively, I placed myself between Percy and the shout,
looking for danger. It was only Ian, gesturing to my left with
annoyance.
Blondie was trying to sneak through a dozen feet away. My
patience was already low, and she was burning through it quicker
than gasoline on a campfire.
I held up the tape and pulled Percy through after me. I didn’t
want to risk him slipping away in the crowd. It was a stupid thought,
probably. He’d been the first one to acknowledge we smelled like
mates. But what if someone got catty and pulled him away from the
edge, pushed him into the middle of everything?
 He could always shift, I argued with myself.
Okay, fine. I didn’t have a great reason for pulling Percy out of
the crowd and closer to danger, but he was literally two feet closer
than before. And I was still between him and the diner.
I just wanted him close.
Little-miss-wannabe-actress hobble-ran on her high heels, trying
to duck behind an SUV, not realizing I was already on her tail.
Percy’s hand was small and soft, but with strangely placed
callouses. I didn’t want to let go, but I had to take care of the
annoyance. “Just a minute.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily… Tank.” He shook his head a
little at the nickname. “I’m a reporter, and I’ve got questions only
you can answer.”
“I can’t wait.”
Blondie heard the crunch of my big boots and jumped with a fake
gasp of shock. “Somebody pushed me in here, I swear! It was a
man.”
“He pushed you, huh? Because he so desperately wanted to give
you your chance to be a big star?”
“No, he grabbed me! I was trying to get away from him. He was
big… with a nose… I was just trying to get somewhere safe!”
She was the worst. In acting, lying, and personality. I grabbed
her elbow—not as gently as I could have, but still with care. Humans
could be so fragile, and I wasn’t really interested in the hysterics
that would ensue if I hurt this one.
I shoved her back under the tape and pointed to the far corner of
the intersection where two bicycle cops watched the commotion.
The Chicago Police Department wasn’t exactly my favorite.
“You got a complaint? Take it to the pros. I’m sure they’d be
much more interested in the bullshit you’re shilling than I am.”
Should the CPD have been handling this bomb? Maybe. If they
weren’t such pricks about shifters and shifter-owned businesses.
Depending on who took the call and what district we were in, it
could have taken them hours to respond, and by that time it would
have been too late.
 I glared at the blonde skittering away, apparently deciding it
wasn’t worth it to try me anymore. She didn’t head for the police,
though. Big surprise. Maybe she was going to try and circle around
and try Owen.
Maybe Crash would manage to get that on camera. She’d have
even less fun with him than she’d had with me.
Percy’s scent grabbed my attention again. For a moment, my
eyes rolled back into my head at the pure bliss that flooded my
body. Then I realized I’d left a clear line between him and the diner
while removing the woman, and quickly stepped back into my
defense position.
“So, big guy. You said your name is Tank?”
“It’s a nickname. My given name is Seymour.”
“Seymour?” He repeated it curiously, as if he’d heard it wrong.
I waited for the jokes that would follow. It wasn’t exactly a
common name…
His eyes ran up and down my body appreciatively. “Hmm. Well, I
can see where the nickname comes from.”
I nodded, my lips twitching into a smile of pleasure. “My brains,
clearly.” Of course my mate wouldn’t make fun of me.
He gave a surprised laugh, his gaze darting away, which made
me smirk a little. His laugh was kind of like a chitter… like a
chipmunk, but not high and annoying.
Regretfully, I pulled my attention away to sweep the crowd
before asking the big question. “What kind of creature are you?”
“Meerkat.”
“Ah, that explains why you’re watching everything.” And the
laugh, but no way was I saying that.
He shuffled his feet. “Am I that obvious?”
“I don’t think anyone’s paying as much attention to you as I am.”
I leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Their loss.”
His shoulders wiggled in a shiver, and the hair on the back of his
neck stood on end. It was a sign of arousal, which could be from
fear or desire.
The look he gave me when I pulled back left no question as to
which it was.
 “And you’re some kind of cat. I just don’t know what kind…”
“Tiger. We’re pretty solitary. Not often you find one of us in a
crowd.”
He gestured behind him. “You’re not exactly in the crowd,
though, are you?” He turned to examine the people, then suddenly
stepped close, laying a hand on my forearm and looking up into my
eyes. “So what’s going on, here? Is it really a movie set?”
My mouth went dry. I was absolutely not going to lie to my mate,
but I didn’t want to risk any bystanders overhearing us. I pulled him
over to the car Blondie had been trying to hide behind. It wasn’t
private, but it was far enough away from anyone who might
overhear my whisper, even with shifter ears.
“You actually a reporter?” I asked.
He nodded and flipped out his credentials. I didn’t glance at
them. His word was enough.
“It’s a crime scene. A bomb was found at City Diner. Sorry. If you
had an appointment for an interview, it’s cancelled.”
Percy blinked at me with wide eyes for a minute. “Dammit. I
knew I shouldn’t have waited.”
“It’s probably best if you head somewhere safe. Work, home. But
I need your number first.”
Percy crossed his arms and glared up at me. If he was trying to
be intimidating, it wasn’t working. He was simply adorable.
“Let my big bad alpha mate handle the danger while I run off to
safety? I don’t think so. You do know meerkats are the best
lookouts, right?”
I gave him a skeptical look. “You realize bombs aren’t parading
up and down the street for victims, right? They’re equal opportunity
killers, and we’re in the danger zone. This isn’t a situation that needs
a lookout, this is when smart people run.”
“But sometimes the perpetrators like to watch the fallout of their
handiwork. Your job is to keep the crowd out, right? You’ve got a
good view, but if someone like Blondie comes along, they’ll distract
you from watching the crowd. But if you popped me up on this SUV,
I could watch a hell of a lot more.”
 Huh. He had a point. Plus, while I wasn’t a fan of keeping Percy
close to danger, I was a fan of keeping him close to me.
The SUV was about twenty feet away from the tape, and I would
feel better the farther Percy was from the diner. I looked around and
spotted a Mini Cooper.
“Okay. But wait over by the line. Just a minute.”
I marched over to the Mini and grabbed its back bumper in a
deadlift. Immediately, its alarm started blaring, but once I lifted the
back end higher than a forty-five degree angle, it figured out it was
probably being towed, and shut off.
Then I dragged the little car into the middle of the road, and
dropped the back end five feet from the line.
Percy licked his lips and surreptitiously adjusted his pants. I
hadn’t done that to show off… well, maybe a bit. But if that was
attractive to my mate, I saw myself performing future feats of
strength for no other goddamn reason than that little tongue dart
and blown eyes.
“Up you go,” I told him.
He took a moment to collect himself and then scrambled up the
car just as smoothly as any housecat. Immediately, he assumed an
alert position, his chin held slightly higher as he turned both his eyes
and ears to the crowd.
Which I was also supposed to be watching, not his tight, pert ass
in those flimsy gray dress pants.
Boomer better hurry up with that bomb soon, before I—
The explosion took me completely by surprise. One moment, I
was stealing glances at Percy’s ass in between scanning the crowd,
the next I was on the ground, ears ringing, vision vibrating. My head
hurt so much…
Someone shook my shoulder. I heard voices, but they were
cottony and far away.
I struggled to my feet, instinct telling me there was something I
needed to look for, someone I needed to check on, urging me
forward before my brain could put words to it.
As my vision cleared and the ringing in my ears faded, I realized
the Mini Cooper had flipped upside down.
 Percy!
I slid to a stop next to the car, shoving it over on its side, terrified
of finding… I didn’t want to think about that.
But there was nothing. Not a skid, not a smear, not a scrap, just
scraped paint and metal.
“Percy!” I screamed as I staggered into the crowd. People were
already standing, talking to each other. Some had bandages on. I
must have been unconscious for so much time to have passed.
There was probably a protocol for this kind of thing. Regroup
with my team, make sure they were okay. But protocol was
something new for us, and we hadn’t exactly decided what you’re
supposed to do when the bomb goes off in the middle of trying to
disarm it.
Shit. Team ALPHA… most of those guys had been inside…
There was nothing I could do for them now. But Percy… he had
to have been thrown off the car. Probably into the crowd. Bodies
would have softened his fall, right?
Right?
 2

PERCY

H urt. Pain. Ouch, was that me? What happened? It hurt too
bad to think, I should probably just sleep some more.
Wait.
No. Sleep was bad. I needed more information, needed to know
why my body felt like I'd had my ass kicked.
No, not my ass. My head. Did someone kick my head? No... that
didn't sound right.
I woke up slowly, too slowly. My nose was buried in a wedge of
hard pillows with something metal pressing into my forehead. It was
cold like steel, another mystery to solve.
But first… someone was groaning and the noise reverberated in
my already thrumming head. They needed to stop. In fact,
everything needed to stop so I could figure out what was going on.
Nothing smelled right. It was gross, like everything was filtered
through a layer of dust and smoke. And under that was… human?
More alert now, the groaning stopped as I listened to the world
around me for clues. It took a second to realize the sound had been
coming from me. The next thing I clued in on was the fact that I
was moving, or rather, my body was being moved. There was an
engine vibrating under me.
Oh! I was in a car. Okay, that made sense.
Wait. No, actually, that made zero sense. Whose car? And this
wasn’t a hard pillow, I was face-first in the upholstery of a stranger’s
car. The metal was probably the metal on the seat belt’s buckle
thingie.
Eww… that meant my face was where a stranger’s ass had sat.
Jerking back, I opened my eyes. It was too much, too fast. I
nearly threw up because the world was a spinning blur of colors and
shapes. Also, the whole nose in a stranger’s ass habitat thing.
Plus, my head was throbbing in rhythm with the cramps now
gripping my stomach. I threw up a little in my mouth, nearly choking
when I tried to swallow it right as the car hit a bump or pothole and
my body bounced, throwing me back.
I scrambled to hang on but couldn’t get a grip, somehow ending
up wedged in a floorboard with an uncomfortable hump under the
small of my back. Blinking, I stared straight up and some of the
blurry shapes came into focus.
Kids. The shapes were kids. They were kids who were staring at
me.
“Mom! The man fell off the seat!”
“I think he’s awake, so he’s not dead.”
“Told you so. Dead people don’t make noise.”
The two shrill voices bounced back and forth faster than a tennis
ball at a pro match.
“Shut up, Heidi. You even said how dead people fart. Unless you
lied.”
“Did not! I swear I heard Grampa fart when they said he was
dead. You weren’t there, Gregory. You don’t know everything!”
“Mighta been his ghost farting. That’s the kinda thing Ghost
Grampa would do.”
Make it stop. Please, for the love of Pete, make them stop yelling.
“You kids sit down before you get us pulled over. We need to get
him to the hospital, he needs help.” An older woman’s voice had
both of them ducking, both heads instantly disappearing from view.
I started to breathe a sigh of relief, but then she kept yelling
from the front of the vehicle. “You okay, mister? Ya gave us quite the
scare, dontcha know. That movie set musta had some action
sequence set up and didn’t warn nobody about the pyrotechnical
excitement coming our way. Something blew to high heavens and
we ran. Sure enough, we grabbed our babies and hoofed it. Then
didn’t you fall right from the sky, landed right at our feet.”
A man’s voice chimed in. “Almost. He woulda fell at our feet, but
I caught him before his head hit the street. Probably saved ya from
bustin’ yer melon, bud.”
Movie set? Explosion? Yes! There was a bomb, he’d said.
Him.
Oh, no! They were taking me to a hospital and away from my
mate when I’d only just found him!
No, that wasn’t good! All I had was a name, and not even a
whole one.
Tank.
Wait… that wasn’t it. That was his nickname. What was his
name?
“Heidi, what’s he saying back there?” The mom’s loud, cheerful
voice was going to kill me. Finish off what the bomb hadn’t.
“Dunno, Ma. He’s mostly moaning like everything hurts and
mumbling under his breath. It’s hard to hear.”
“Listen harder, hon. Could be he’s trying to tell us something,
yeah?”
Blocking them out, I focused on my mate’s name. I needed to
find him, make sure he was okay. It was right there… on the tip of
my tongue. If I could just see his face, I’d be able to see—
Wait, that was it! See. No, not see. See more. Nope, still wrong.
Seymour.
That was it. Seymour. That fit him. A poetic name for a beautiful
man.
Forget poetry. He was so beautiful, sonnets could be written in
his honor. Dozens of them. Didn't matter how many, I could spend a
lifetime and never describe the sheer poetry of his ass.
Eyes. I meant eyes. Cool, dark obsidian jewels that sparkled
when he smiled. Although his ass wasn't bad either.
Especially when it lifted a freaking car.
Needing to smell him again, I sucked a deep breath in through
my nose, as if that would help, only to start coughing.
 Dammit, I needed to remember not to do that while my nose
was full of street funk.
"Heidi, is he choking? Don't let him die when we're working so
hard to save him."
"He’s mumbling something about needing to see more of
something."
No, I want Seymour. Get it right, little girl.
The vehicle stopped just then, screeching to a halt. It was fast,
too fast, making my head jerk forward and slam down against the
floorboard.
Pain. So much pain. The accompanying burst of nausea had me
gagging and choking, again.
The man's voice boomed through the car. "Sorry about that.
Everyone okay? Traffic came to a dead stop. There’s nothing but
brake lights up ahead."
"Mommy, I think the man is gonna throw up!"
"Ooh! I wanna see him blow chunks! Watch your hair if you hang
over the seat, Heidi, I bet he sprays chunks all over it, if you do."
I flinched at Heidi's high-pitched whine. "Mo-ooom. Don't let the
strange man throw up on me."
This was it. My way out, if I dared. "Help." That didn't work, the
word was nothing more than a wheeze. Coughing to clear my throat,
I swallowed and tried again.
"Help. Need air, gonna puke."
Car doors instantly flung open. The mom cautioned the children
to stay where they were while the dad pressed his face to the glass,
looking in at me.
Not expecting it, I jerked at the sight of a large man with ruddy
cheeks and a full bushy beard about ten shades darker than the
blond comb-over gracing the top of his head.
His voice was muffled. "He's looking a little green, mother. What
do you think, should I pull him out? Poor guy’s got himself wedged
in there real good. Can't feel too good."
Her equally muffled voice came from behind my head, making
me jerk again. "Better do it then, it'll be a long drive back to
Milwaukee with the smell of vomit in the upholstery."
 "Alrighty then. Gregory, hop on out for me, son. This won't take
but a second."
Everything was a blur of pain and movement as Gregory’s door
opened and the seat pinning my legs was folded and shoved
forward. It wasn't enough of a gap for the man to get in, but it gave
him room to work, apparently.
Large hands gripped my thighs, pulling the bottom part of me
over the folded seat, dragging my head several inches until my arm
got caught under the seat.
My legs felt like they were being crushed against the open door
and the stranger's chest pressed against me.
So awkward. I'd have been mortified if it all didn't hurt so
freaking bad. The hands moved to my armpits, grasping me firmly.
He backed out of the car, taking me with him.
"Don't worry, I gotcha." Towering over me, his smile was
cheerful, his eyes filled with concern as he continued to hold me. I
wanted him to let go, but I also didn't because I'm pretty sure he
was the only thing keeping me upright at the moment.
A round face with blonde curls and an equally chipper smile
popped out from behind him. "Well don't stand so close, Harry. If he
blows, it's gonna get all over ya."
Her eyes took on that gleam only a mother can give as she
looked me over. Quickly assessing me while she worriedly bit her lip,
she pressed the back of her hand against my forehead.
"How ya feelin' there, hon? You got shook up real good back
there. The GPS says we’re only three blocks from the hospital, but it
might as well be five miles in all this traffic."
Tentatively, I rocked my weight from foot to foot, holding my
hands up for balance. I looked at Harry, giving my best attempt at
looking normal.
"Could you try letting go? I think I'm okay to stand."
"Sure thing, I'm right here though. No need pushing it and trying
to be a hero." He released pressure first, but kept his hands under
my armpits for several seconds, as if wanting to see for himself that
I could stand.
 As badly as I wanted to lean against their vehicle, which I now
realized was an SUV, I didn't dare. The only way these well-meaning,
good Samaritans were letting me get away from them was if they
honestly believed I'd be okay.
Harry nodded to himself, slowly pulling his hands away when he
saw me standing without wavering. "Yeah, that’s good. Real good.
Take a breath, now. No need rushing or anything. Still feel like ya
need to hurl?"
Shaking my head brought instant regret when a fresh wave of
nausea flooded through me, but I fought to keep a blank face so as
not to give anything away. The mom didn't look like she was buying
it, so I went for a tactical diversion.
No matter what, I needed to find my way back to my mate.
"S'okay. Just need to make small movements. What happened
back there? Did anyone get hurt? I bet those movie people caused a
lot of damage, the city won't like that." Even I was ready to buy my
act.
Her eyes widened at my words, she was already nodding before I
finished speaking. "That's exactly what I was thinking. That was so
reckless of them to set off pyrotechnics in the middle of the day with
people milling all around. I'm sure something went wrong, it's the
only explanation. I don't know about injuries, but I betcha there's
lots of property damage. The city's gonna have a field day."
"Have you heard anything on the news?" Forget guessing, lady.
Always look to the news, especially when you're literally part of it.
Harry shook his head. "I didn't want to turn the radio on, we
were trying to keep our eyes and ears on you. Plus there's the kids,
no point in scaring them."
Yeah, because running for their lives and not knowing why was
so much less frightening than hearing the news.
Looking around, I saw the mouth of an alleyway a couple doors
down. "Thank you for saving me, but I think you should get the kids
out of here. I know exactly where the hospital is and I can cut
through that alley over there and walk myself there in under five
minutes. If you turn around like the cars behind you did, you can go
the other way and take a detour around the traffic. I don't know
what has it tied up, but I'm guessing there was an accident or
something."
The mom shook her head with a fretful frown. "No way, buster.
We didn't get you this far to let you die in an alley."
I lifted my hands, giving my best smile as I slowly sidestepped
around them. "See? I'm moving just fine. Nobody’s dying, but you
should probably get your kids to safety. We don't know for sure it
was a movie, that's just what the crowd was saying. There's a lot of
gang activity here in Chicago, you know. What if the explosion was
caused by rival mobsters having a turf war?"
That was absolute fiction. Not the mob part or the possibility of a
turf war, but the criminal element would use guns, not bombs. And
they’d never be stupid enough to do it in broad daylight with
civilians watching. Too many chances for things to go wrong and
them to get caught. At least, that was my thinking on the subject.
Harry looked worried. "I thought the gangsters went away with
prohibition and Al Capone. That's not just something from the
movies?"
Mentally crossing my fingers, I pursed my lips and looked left
and right before lowering my voice as if I didn't want to be
overheard. "We locals know better than to speak of it, you never
know who might be listening. But yeah, just about every block in the
city is owned by one family or another. You should really get your
kids out of here, sir."
They looked at each other and the mom mumbled a prayer. She
hesitated for a moment, eyeing me closely. "You're sure you'll be
okay? You can get to the hospital from here?"
"Yeah, just tell me one thing. How far are we from the scene of
the accident? I don't want to take any unnecessary risks."
Harry scratched the side of his jaw, looking thoughtful for a few
seconds. "About ten or so blocks, give or take. You came to almost
as soon as we started moving, so probably even less than that. You
should be okay though, I doubt the hospital is too busy yet. I
haven’t heard any sirens passing, and it only happened about fifteen
minutes ago. Took us a while to get you wrangled into the back of
the car, then we had to wait for the people fleeing the scene to get
out of the street. It was a mess, I tell you what."
Okay, good. That told me all I needed to know. I just needed to
hide in the alley until they left, then I could retrace my steps and
hopefully find my way back to my mate. My Tank. No, he was my
Seymour. Fudgeballs, there was no reason he couldn't be both.
My mate was a tank named Seymour, and he was all mine.
I just had to find him.
After a quick hug that crushed all my bruised places, the mom
admonished me to hurry to the hospital and to make sure I called
my own mother.
Harry nodded and clapped me on the shoulder. I grimaced as
another wave of pain shot through me from that, but at least they
finally got back in their car.
It took me a minute to realize they weren't leaving until they saw
me go, so I slowly backed toward the alley for a few steps, waving
like an idiot until they started their car.
The kids were pressed against the windows, waving like crazy
and staring at me like I was an alien or something. Harry motioned
for me to go, so I went. It took everything in me to walk steadily,
putting one foot in front of the other with the alley as my goal.
Sweat broke out across my forehead, and I was pretty sure I
might actually die if I didn't sit down soon.
An hour later, or a couple minutes, who could say, I finally
reached my goal. As I turned to go in, I looked back to see the well-
meaning family finally pull away. Afraid they'd come back, I gave a
final wave and walked into the alley.
And promptly puked from the combined scents of rotting
garbage, urine, and sewage. Holding my stomach, I stepped back,
ignoring my puddle and went back to the sidewalk.
First I looked for the dirty white SUV I'd gotten out of, but it was
gone. They were gone. I was safe.
Safe but alone. And woozy. So woozy.
I turned back to the alley and spotted an old metal bench, bolted
to the brick wall of a barbershop, likely from days gone by when
things had been different in this neighborhood. When people hung
out and visited to pass the time. I staggered over and sat down,
wincing when I stepped on something sharp, but too weak to care
enough to investigate.
Panting, I told myself I just needed a minute and I'd get moving
again, maybe two. Had to catch my breath and I'd... the world went
dark and I felt myself falling sideways. My last lucid thought was
that at least the bench was there to catch me.
Then everything went black.
 3

TANK

M y frantic search of the bewildered crowd revealed little

trace of my tiny mate. Claws pushed at the end of my
fingers, threatening to shift and unleash the tiger within.
The only thing keeping me clinging to my human form was that I
needed the ability to speak to the humans milling around, asking if
any of them had seen the small sandy-haired man who’d been
perched on top of the little Mini Cooper.
Even though there wasn’t a whiff of blood around the car, I
couldn’t bear to look at it. There so easily could have been.
A firm hand grabbed my arm, and I twisted with a snarl. My arm
cocked, ready to unleash a full-force punch, but it was Ian, one of
my teammates.
“What the fuck happened?” I asked him, belatedly realizing in my
frenzied worry about Percy that my team had been much closer to
the blast zone than I had been, and Team ALPHA had probably—
“Is anyone… hurt?”
I’d faced death before. I wasn’t afraid of being around it. But if
Team ALPHA had been annihilated, so many of Saint’s plans and
dreams for STAHP went up in ashes with them.
Thankfully, Ian shook his head. “A few bumps and gashes, but it
wasn’t our target that went off. There was a secondary explosion
across the street. It went off just after Boomer disengaged the
target bomb. We’re not sure if they were linked yet, or if there might
be more. Team ALPHA’s going to take over the perimeter. They want
our more sensitive noses on the explosion; see what information we
can sniff out.”
A literal war tore at my body between my fear for my mate and
my duty to my team. “I can’t.” The words ripped from my throat.
Ian gave me a stern look, examining my body from top to
bottom. “Are you injured?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s just—right before the explosion, this
little shifter, Percy, he came up. And you know how they always say
one sniff and you know? Well, I know.”
Understanding lit Ian’s eyes. “Your mate? Where is he? We
should get him out of here, in case there’s a third bomb.”
The idea made me shudder. “I don’t know. He went flying when
the bomb went off, and by the time I came to, he was gone.”
Ian rubbed a stressed hand over his face. “Fate sure has a shitty
sense of humor. Do you need backup? Who should I call in?”
He didn’t even try to convince me to get back to work. Gratitude
pushed aside an ounce of tension, giving me just enough room to
think clearly. “Crash! He has to have coverage of the cameras, right?
Street cams, security cams, something.”
“Hold on,” a tinny voice said in my ear. “Heard my name. Cams?”
Crash sounded frazzled. I could only imagine how quickly his hands
and eyes were darting as he tried to quickly capture the evidence of
the bomb and make sense of it.
“Do you have anything that had coverage of my zone?” I asked.
“I’m looking for an omega with—”
“You mean that tiny little thing you went all Hulk for, pulling a
goddamn car over as a throne?”
I didn’t even care that Crash was teasing me. If he knew I’d
done that, he had coverage of Percy during the explosion!
“Looks like… oof. He went flying. Went clear over the crowd.”
My heart sank. Percy was so small… how could he have survived
a fall like that?
“Looks like he smacked into those cops on the corner, but then
whiplashed back onto the traffic light pole.”
 I spun around. I knew exactly where he was talking about, but
the corner was empty and abandoned now.
“Looks like a family came up and took charge of him. Loaded him
into their car, then took off south, away from the explosion, but
turned left at the light. My guess is they’re trucking him off to the
nearest hospital which is probably… Loretta, on South Central. Looks
like he might be bleeding pretty heavily, but that’s head wounds for
you.”
He fell silent and I sprinted for the corner, Ian keeping pace with
me.
“Sorry, Tank, but Saint needs me back on the explosion. I’m
gonna try and track the car, but—”
There. A cellphone, screen shattered, and a notebook, pages
crushed and stained. Dark brown splotches of blood. I pressed my
nose to the stain and inhaled. It was Percy, alright. A quick sniff
confirmed the notebook and phone were his as well. I shoved them
into Ian’s hands.
“Do what you can, Crash, but I’ll be offline. I’m going to try to
catch up.”
“You’re not a fucking cheetah,” Ian protested as I stripped and
shoved my clothes into his arms. I left my boxers on for public
decency, though they ripped as I shifted. I shook my legs to kick
them off, sniffed around the area to catalog any adjacent scents I
could use to track my mate, and took off.
It might not have been the best idea to take off without any way
for my team to communicate with me, but I had no doubt that Ian
was calling in a backup team right now to do things the smart, but
slow way of tracking the cameras, calling the hospital—all things my
tiger had no interest in waiting around for.
My mate was hurt. He needed me. I needed to go to him.
I wasn’t incredibly familiar with this part of Chicago, but I had a
general idea of how to get to Loretta. I focused on that as I ran,
keeping my senses open for any sign of my mate. Even the slightest
waft from an open window would be enough for me.
Humans screeched and dashed into the road or open doorways
as I ran past. It was annoying. It had been decades since our
presence had been revealed to the world, and still they acted as if
we were escaped circus animals. Thankfully, traffic was at a near
standstill, or there would have been a few casualties.
Maybe we hadn’t been doing them too many favors by shielding
them from our reality, from keeping our shifting out of the public eye
as much as possible.
I wasn’t expecting to run almost headlong into a cloud of Percy’s
scent, and I nearly went ass over tea kettle as I skidded to a stop,
my head snapping back and forth, looking for the source.
I didn’t see him anywhere. Nose in the air, I followed his scent,
ignoring the rolled-down windows and a paparazzi parade worth of
cell phones.
His scent led to an alley, hidden in shadows. I slowed my speed
slightly, desperate to reach my mate, but cautious of the dangers
that liked to hide in the dark corners of the city.
After nearly stepping in a puddle of puke, the source of the
strongest part of his scent, I turned back because his scent didn’t go
any further. I went back toward the sidewalk, his scent still strong in
the air, but there was no sight of him.
I nearly moved back the way I’d come, thinking maybe he’d
retraced his path and I’d missed him, except there he was, lying on
an old bench just inside the alley. I had a second or so of relief. But
when I saw Percy’s sock-clad feet, his shoes probably lost in the
chaos of the explosion, I shifted quickly back to human form and
dropped to my knees beside him, ignoring the stab of grit and
broken glass that littered the ground.
He was so pale and covered in blood. I pressed a hand to his
neck. His pulse was strong, thank god. I pulled him into my arms. I
wasn’t worried about neck injuries—he’d made it this far. I stroked
his face, already swelling and darkening with bruises.
“Percy? Wake up, pretty boy. You need to shift.”
Why hadn’t he shifted already? Had he been unconscious the
whole time? Had the car who’d picked him up from the street just
dumped him?
If so, I’d make sure Crash tracked that car to the ends of the
earth if need be.
 Percy stirred, dissolving my wrath momentarily.
“Percy? It’s me. Tank—Seymour.” I didn’t know why I wanted him
to call me by my real name. Everyone else in my life called me Tank,
except my sister, and we didn’t talk often enough for it to matter.
“It’s your mate. I need you to shift, okay?”
“It hurts,” he gasped.
“I know, I know. You’ll feel much better if you just shift, yeah?
Let your body realign everything. Can you do that for me?”
Percy shuddered and clenched forward, turning his head to dry
heave.
“Think about what it means to be a meerkat. Tiny. Adorable.
Alert. Not in pain.”
Percy shook—probably shock kicking in. Maybe I ought to start
running for the hospital, naked or not. If he couldn’t focus enough to
shift, he might need help.
Just as I’d decided to go for it, Percy’s muscles rippled and
flowed, shrinking under my hands, and he disappeared into his
clothes.
Carefully, I unwrapped the little meerkat from his shirt and
cupped him carefully in my hands. With one last full-body shake, he
shook off the adrenalin, pain, and stress.
“Feel better?”
He nodded his little head with quick, sudden movements. Damn,
he was cute. His fur was the same color as his hair, light blond, and
the only dark spots were his eyes and ears.
He shifted back, and suddenly I had a lapful of naked man. Still
dirty, looking tired, but healed. “What the hell happened?” he asked.
I tugged his hips closer to mine—not to get frisky, but for
modesty’s sake, if someone happened to walk by and peer at the
strange sight of two naked men covered in dirt and bruises cuddling
intimately in a dirty alley.
Actually, it was Chicago. Maybe it wouldn’t be all that strange of
a sight.
“Explosion.”
“City Diner’s gone?”
 “No, it’s fine. They disarmed that bomb. We just didn’t have a
clue there was another one across the street.”
Percy frowned, and I could already see his reporter’s gears
turning.
I grabbed his chin and his attention. “Not yet. You’ve used up a
lot of your body’s reserves healing in that last shift. We need to get
you some food. I saw a Minnie’s Diner a couple blocks back. They’re
quick and fast. We can—”
“Not there,” Percy said harshly.
“Any particular reason?” I asked slowly.
He nodded. “But I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
His skin had turned a little green, and he curled forward as if he
might be nauseous again.
“But I think you’re right about food. I just need to get dressed…”
He suddenly stared at my chest. “Are you naked?”
I flashed him a cocky grin. “Just as much as you are.” I lurched
to my feet before setting him on his own, turning my back to the
street to protect him from view. It wasn’t my intention to show off
for him, but as his eyes drifted south of the border and he licked his
lips, well. It was good to know he liked what he saw.
I was still too shook up from seeing him looking so vulnerable to
crack any comments, though.
“You can’t go out there like that.”
I shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to streak.”
Percy glared at me. “No. That’s mine. I don’t want strangers
ogling you more than they already must.”
A shiver danced down my spine as he called me mine. My little
mate had some bite to him.
I looked around the alley. “There ought to be a piece of
cardboard around here or something… can’t say how clean it will be
though.”
Percy wrinkled his nose and scooped his clothes up from the
ground, tossing his shirt at me. “This will have to do.” He patted his
pants, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. “Thank god. I still have
my cards. We’ll stop at the first place we can get something, even if
it’s just a sheet.”
 I unbuttoned the shirt—it would never be fully white again after
this—and wrapped the long arms around my waist, tying them
behind my back. “I kinda feel like I’m wearing a Dollar Tree sexy
French maid outfit.”
A breeze kissed my mostly bare ass as I spun around for Percy’s
approval. He huffed, almost like a mini growl. “It will have to do. I’ll
just have to walk close enough behind you that no one can see.”
I grabbed his hand and tugged him into my arm, tilting his chin
up to mine. “No. I want you where I can see you after everything
that just happened. I don’t care if someone stares at my ass. I
need… I need the reassurance that nothing’s going to grab you away
when I’m not looking.
Our lips were close enough that we shared several deep breaths.
“Are you going to kiss me?” Percy asked, finally.
I pressed forward until there was only a finger’s width between
us. “I want to. Desperately. But the first time I kiss you isn’t going to
be covered in filth, standing in an alley next to a dumpster that
smells like piss.”
His eyes wrinkled in a smile. “You have more restraint than I do.”
He pressed up onto his toes, and I drew back.
“And better taste, clearly.”
His eyebrows flew up. “First you reject me, and then you insult
my taste?”
“Not an insult, it’s a fact.”
“You barely know me. How do you know anything about my
taste?”
I pulled him out of the alley and into the light before my desires
got the better of me. “All I need to know is this: you want me, and I
want you, and I’m clearly getting the better end of the deal.
Therefore, I have better taste. But if your awful taste means I get to
claim you… it’s a minor flaw.”
Percy laughed in surprise, and the sound helped chase the last
bits of fear from my bones.
“You need food,” I said again.
Percy sighed and rubbed a hand across my face, but he didn’t
argue with me. “There’s a gyro place around the corner. Let’s grab
Another random document with
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going out of the gate. Makes me fairly crazy to wait,
fearful I am missing it in not going. This lottery way of
living is painful on the nerves. There are all kinds of
rumors. Even have the story afloat that now the raid
is over that drove us away from Andersonville, we
are going back there to stay during the war. That
would be a joke. However, I stick to my resolution
that the rebels don’t really know themselves where
we are going. They move us because we are not
safe here. They are bewildered. Believing this am in
a comparatively easy state of mind. Still I worry.
Haven’t said a word in a week about my health. Well,
I am convalescing all the time. Still lame, and always
expect to be; can walk very well though, and feeling
lively for an old man.
Nov. 18.—None being taken away to-day, I believe
on account of not getting transportation. Notice that
rebel troops are passing through on the railroad and
immense activity among them. Am now well satisfied
of the correctness of my views as regards this
movement. Have decided now to stay here until the
last. Am getting ready for action however. Believe we
are going to have a warm time of it in the next few
months. Thank fortune I am as well as I am. Can
stand considerable now. Food given us in smaller
quantities, and hurriedly so too. All appears to be in a
hurry. Cloudy, and rather wet weather, and getting
decidedly cooler. My noble old coverlid is kept rolled
up and ready to accompany me on my travels at any
moment. Have my lame and stiff leg in training. Walk
all over the prison until tired out so as to strengthen
myself. Recruiting officers among us trying to induce
prisoners to enter their army. Say it is no exchange
for during the war, and half a dozen desert and go
with them. Even if we are not exchanged during the
war, don’t think we will remain prisoners long.
Nov. 19.—A car load went at about noon, and are
pretty well thinned out. Over half gone—no one
believes to our lines now; all hands afraid of going to
Charleston. Believe I shall try and escape on the
journey, although in no condition to rough it. Am
going to engineer this thing to suit myself and have a
little fun. Would like to be out from under rebel guard
once more. When I can look around and not see a
prison wall and a gun ready to shoot me, I shall
rejoice. Have edged up to another comrade and we
bunk together. Said comrade is Corporal Smith,
belonging to an Indiana regiment. While he is no
great guns, seems quite a sensible chap and a
decided improvement on many here to mess with.
The nights are cool, and a covering of great benefit.
My being the owner of a good blanket makes me a
very desirable comrade to mess with. Two or three
together can keep much warmer than one alone. It is
said that a number of outsiders have escaped and
taken to the woods. Another load goes to-night or
early in the morning. My turn will come pretty soon.
Nothing new in our situation or the prospects ahead.
Food scarce, but of good quality. More go and I go
to-morrow.
Nov. 20.—None as yet gone to-day and it is
already most night. My turn would not come until to-
morrow, and if none go at all to-day I will probably not
get away until about day after to-morrow. Shan’t flank
out, but await my turn and go where fate decrees.
Had a falling out with my companion Smith, and am
again alone walking about the prison with my coverlid
on my shoulders. Am determined that this covering
protects none but thoroughly good and square
fellows. Later.—Going to be a decidedly cold night,
and have “made up” with two fellows to sleep
together. The going away is the all absorbing topic of
conversation. Received for rations this day a very
good allowance of hard-tack and bacon. This is the
first hard-tack received since the trip to
Andersonville, and is quite a luxury. It is so hard that I
have to tack around and soak mine up before I am
able to eat it. There is a joke to this. Will again go to
bed as I have done the last week, thinking every
night would be the last at Camp Lawton.
 Nov. 21.—Got up bright and early, went to the
creek and had a good wash, came back, after a good
walk over the prison, and ate my two large crackers
and small piece of bacon left over from yesterday,
and again ready for whatever may turn up. Lost my
diminutive cake of soap in the water and must again
take to sand to scrub with, until fortune again favors
me. Men are very restless and reckless, uncertainty
making them so. Try my very best not to have any
words or trouble with them, but occasionally get
drawn into it, as I did this morning. Came out solid
however. Is pretty well understood that I can take
care of myself. Noon.—Five hundred getting ready
to go; my turn comes to-morrow, and then we will see
what we will see. Decided rumors that Sherman has
taken Atlanta and is marching toward Savannah, the
heart of the Confederacy. All in good spirits for the
first time in a week.
 ESCAPE BUT NOT ESCAPE.

MOVED FROM CAMP LAWTON AFTER A SOJOURN OF TWENTY

DAYS—DESTINATION BLACKSHEAR, GA.—JUMP OFF THE
CARS AND OUT FROM REBEL GUARD FOR SIX DAYS—A
HUNGRY TIME BUT A GOOD ONE—CAPTURED AND MAKE THE
ACQUAINTANCE OF TWO OTHER RUNAWAYS WITH WHOM I
CAST MY FORTUNES, ETC., ETC.

Nov. 22.—And now my turn has come, and I get off

with the next load going to-day. My trunk is packed
and baggage duly checked; shall try and get a “lay
over” ticket, and rusticate on the road. Will see the
conductor about it. A nice cool day with sun shining
brightly—a fit one for an adventure and I am just the
boy to have one. Coverlid folded up and thrown
across my shoulder, lower end tied as only a soldier
knows how. My three large books of written matter on
the inside of my thick rebel jacket, and fastened in.
Have a small book which I keep at hand to write in
now. My old hat has been exchanged for a red
zouave cap, and I look like a red headed
woodpecker. Leg behaving beautifully. My latest
comrades are James Ready and Bill Somebody. We
have decided to go and keep together on the cars.
One of them has an apology for a blanket, and the
two acting in conjunction keep all three warm nights.
Later.—On the cars, in vicinity of Savannah en-
route for Blackshear, which is pretty well south and
not far from the Florida line. Are very crowded in a
close box car and fearfully warm. Try to get away to-
night.
In the Woods near Doctortown Station, No.
5, Ga., Nov. 23.—A change has come over the spirit
of my dreams. During the night the cars ran very
slow, and sometimes stopped for hours on side
tracks. A very long, tedious night, and all suffered a
great deal with just about standing room only.
Impossible to get any sleep. Two guards at each side
door, which were open about a foot. Guards were
passably decent, although strict. Managed to get
near the door, and during the night talked
considerable with the two guards on the south side of
the car. At about three o’clock this a. m., and after
going over a long bridge which spanned the
Altamaha River and in sight of Doctortown, I went
through the open door like a flash and rolled down a
high embankment. Almost broke my neck, but not
quite. Guard fired a shot at me, but as the cars were
going, though not very fast, did not hit me. Expected
the cars to stop but they did not, and I had the
inexpressible joy of seeing them move off out of
sight. Then crossed the railroad track going north,
went through a large open field and gained the
woods, and am now sitting on the ground leaning up
against a big pine tree and out from under rebel
guard! The sun is beginning to show itself in the east
and it promises to be a fine day. Hardly know what to
do with myself. If those on the train notified
Doctortown people of my escape they will be after
me. Think it was at so early an hour that they might
have gone right through without telling any one of the
jump off. Am happy and hungry and considerably
bruised and scratched up from the escape. The
happiness of being here, however, overbalances
everything else. If I had George Hendryx with me
now would have a jolly time, and mean to have as it
is. Sun is now up and it is warmer; birds chippering
around, and chipmunks looking at me with curiosity.
Can hear hallooing off a mile or so, which sounds like
farmers calling cattle or hogs or something. All nature
smiles—why should not I?—and I do. Keep my eyes
peeled, however, and look all ways for Sunday. Must
work farther back toward what I take to be a swamp
a mile or so away. Am in a rather low country
although apparently a pretty thickly settled one; most
too thickly populated for me, judging from the signs
of the times. It’s now about dinner time, and I have
traveled two or three miles from the railroad track,
should judge and am in the edge of a swampy forest,
although the piece of ground on which I have made
my bed is dry and nice. Something to eat wouldn’t be
a bad thing. Not over sixty rods from where I lay is a
path evidently travelled more or less by negroes
going from one plantation to another. My hope of
food lays by that road. Am watching for passers by.
Later.—A negro boy too young to trust has gone by
singing and whistling, and carrying a bundle and a tin
pail evidently filled with somebody’s dinner. In as
much as I want to enjoy this out-door Gypsy life, I will
not catch and take the dinner away from him. That
would be the height of foolishness. Will lay for the
next one traveling this way. The next one is a dog
and he comes up and looks at me, gives a bark and
scuds off. Can’t eat a dog. Don’t know how it will be
to-morrow though. Might be well enough for him to
come around later. Well, it is most dark and will get
ready to try and sleep. Have broken off spruce
boughs and made a soft bed. Have heard my father
tell of sleeping on a bed of spruce, and it is healthy.
Will try it. Not a crust to eat since yesterday
forenoon. Am educated to this way of living though,
and have been hungryer. Hope the pesky alligators
will let me alone. If they only knew it, I would make a
poor meal for them. Thus closes my first day of
freedom and it is grand. Only hope they may be
many, although I can hardly hope to escape to our
lines, not being in a condition to travel.
Nov. 24.—Another beautiful morning, a repetition
of yesterday, opens up to me. It is particularly
necessary that I procure sustenance wherewith life is
prolonged, and will change my head-quarters to a
little nearer civilization. Can hear some one chopping
not a mile away. Here goes. Later.—Found an old
negro fixing up a dilapidated post and rail fence.
Approached him and enquired the time of day. (My
own watch having run down.) He didn’t happen to
have his gold watch with him, but reckoned it was
nigh time for the horn. Seemed scared at the
apparition that appeared to him, and no wonder.
Forgave him on the spot. Thought it policy to tell him
all about who and what I was, and did so. Was very
timid and afraid, but finally said he would divide his
dinner as soon as it should be sent to him, and for an
hour I lay off a distance of twenty rods or so, waiting
for that dinner. It finally came, brought by the same
boy I saw go along yesterday. Boy sat down the pail
and the old darkey told him to scamper off home—
which he did. Then we had dinner of rice, cold yams
and fried bacon. It was a glorious repast, and I
succeeded in getting quite well acquainted with him.
We are on the Bowden plantation and he belongs to
a family of that name. Is very fearful of helping me as
his master is a strong Secesh., and he says would
whip him within an inch of his life if it was known.
Promise him not to be seen by any one and he has
promised to get me something more to eat after it
gets dark. Later.—After my noonday meal went
back toward the low ground and waited for my
supper, which came half an hour ago and it is not yet
dark. Had a good supper of boiled seasoned turnips,
corn bread and sour milk, the first milk I have had in
about a year. Begs me to go off in the morning, which
I have promised to do. Says for me to go two or three
miles on to another plantation owned by LeCleye,
where there are good negroes who will feed me.
Thanked the old fellow for his kindness. Says the war
is about over and the Yanks expected to free them all
soon. It’s getting pretty dark now, and I go to bed
filled to overflowing; in fact, most too much so.
Nov. 25.—This morning got up cold and stiff; not
enough covering. Pushed off in the direction pointed
out by the darkey of yesterday. Have come in the
vicinity of negro shanties and laying in wait for some
good benevolent colored brother. Most too many
dogs yelping around to suit a runaway Yankee. Little
nigs and the canines run together. If I can only attract
their attention without scaring them to death, shall be
all right. However, there is plenty of time, and won’t
rush things. Time is not valuable with me. Will go
sure and careful. Don’t appear to be any men folks
around; more or less women of all shades of color.
This is evidently a large plantation; has thirty or forty
negro huts in three or four rows. They are all neat
and clean to outward appearances. In the far
distance and toward what I take to be the main road
is the master’s residence. Can just see a part of it.
Has a cupola on top and is an ancient structure.
Evidently a nice plantation. Lots of cactus grows wild
all over, and is bad to tramp through. There is also
worlds of palm leaves, such as five cent fans are
made of. Hold on there, two or three negro men are
coming from the direction of the big house to the
huts. Don’t look very inviting to trust your welfare
with. Will still wait, McCawber like, for something to
turn up. If they only knew the designs I have on
them, they would turn pale. Shall be ravenous by
night and go for them. I am near a spring of water,
and lay down flat and drink. The “Astor House Mess”
is moving around for a change; hope I won’t make a
mess of it. Lot of goats looking at me now,
wondering, I suppose, what it is. Wonder if they butt?
Shoo! Going to rain, and if so I must sleep in one of
those shanties. Negroes all washing up and getting
ready to eat, with doors open. No, thank you; dined
yesterday. Am reminded of the song: “What shall we
do, when the war breaks the country up, and scatters
us poor darkys all around.” This getting away
business is about the best investment I ever made.
Just the friendliest fellow ever was. More than like a
colored man, and will stick closer than a brother if
they will only let me. Laugh when I think of the old
darky of yesterday’s experience, who liked me first
rate only wanted me to go away. Have an eye on an
isolated hut that looks friendly. Shall approach it at
dark. People at the hut are a woman and two or three
children, and a jolly looking and acting negro man.
Being obliged to lay low in the shade feel the cold, as
it is rather damp and moist. Later.—Am in the hut
and have eaten a good supper. Shall sleep here to-
night. The negro man goes early in the morning,
together with all the male darky population, to work
on fortifications at Fort McAllister. Says the whole
country is wild at the news of approaching Yankee
army. Negro man named “Sam” and woman “Sady.”
Two or three negroes living here in these huts are not
trustworthy, and I must keep very quiet and not be
seen. Children perfectly awe struck at the sight of a
Yankee. Negroes very kind but afraid. Criminal to
assist me. Am five miles from Doctortown. Plenty of
“gubers” and yams. Tell them all about my
imprisonment. Regard the Yankees as their friends.
Half a dozen neighbors come in by invitation, shake
hands with me, scrape the floor with their feet, and
rejoice most to death at the good times coming.
“Bress de Lord,” has been repeated hundreds of
times in the two or three hours I have been here.
Surely I have fallen among friends. All the visitors
donate of their eatables, and although enough is
before me to feed a dozen men, I give it a tussle.
Thus ends the second day of my freedom, and it is
glorious.
Nov. 26.—An hour before daylight “Sam” awoke
me and said I must go with him off a ways to stay
through the day. Got up, and we started. Came about
a mile to a safe hiding place, and here I am. Have
plenty to eat and near good water. Sam will tell
another trusty negro of my whereabouts, who will
look after me, as he has to go away to work. The
negroes are very kind, and I evidently am in good
hands. Many of those who will not fight in the
Confederate army are hid in these woods and
swamps, and there are many small squads looking
them up with dogs and guns to force them into the
rebel ranks. All able-bodied men are conscripted into
the army in the South. It is possible I may be
captured by some of these hunting parties. It is again
most night and have eaten the last of my food. Can
hear the baying of hounds and am skeery. Shall take
in all the food that comes this way in the meantime.
Sam gave me an old jack knife and I shall make a
good bed to sleep on, and I also have an additional
part of a blanket to keep me warm. In fine spirits and
have hopes for the future. Expect an ambassador
from my colored friends a little later. Later.—The
ambassador has come and gone in the shape of a
woman. Brought food; a man told her to tell me to go
off a distance of two miles or so, to the locality
pointed out, before daylight, and wait there until
called upon to-morrow. Rebel guards occupy the
main roads, and very unsafe.
Nov. 27.—Before daylight came where I now am.
Saw alligators—small ones. This out in the woods life
is doing me good. Main road three miles away, but
there are paths running everywhere. Saw a white
man an hour ago. Think he was a skulker hiding to
keep out of the army, but afraid to hail him. Many of
these stay in the woods day-times, and at night go to
their homes, getting food. Am now away quite a
distance from any habitation, and am afraid those
who will look for me cannot find me. Occasionally
hear shots fired; this is a dangerous locality. Have
now been out four days and fared splendidly. Have
hurt one of my ankles getting through the brush; sort
of sprain, and difficult to travel at all. No water near
by and must move as soon as possible. Wild hogs
roam around through the woods, and can run like a
deer. Palm leaves grow in great abundance, and are
handsome to look at. Some of them very large.
Occasionally see lizards and other reptiles, and am
afraid of them. If I was a good traveler I could get
along through the country and possibly to our lines.
Must wander around and do the best I can however.
Am armed with my good stout cane and the knife
given me by the negro; have also some matches, but
dare not make a fire lest it attract attention. Nights
have to get up occasionally and stamp around to get
warm. Clear, cool nights and pleasant. Most too light,
however, for me to travel. The remnants of
yesterday’s food, have just eaten. Will now go off in
an easterly direction in hopes of seeing the
messenger.
Nov. 28.—No one has come to me since day
before yesterday. Watched and moved until most
night of yesterday but could see or hear no one.
Afraid I have lost communication. In the distance can
see a habitation and will mog along that way. Most
noon. Later.—As I was poking along through some
light timber, almost ran into four Confederates with
guns. Lay down close to the ground and they passed
by me not more than twenty rods away. Think they
have heard of my being in the vicinity and looking me
up. This probably accounts for not receiving any
visitor from the negroes. Getting very hungry, and no
water fit to drink. Must get out of this community as
fast as I can. Wish to gracious I had two good legs.
Later.—It is now nearly dark and I have worked my
way as near direct north as I know how. Am at least
four miles from where I lay last night. Have seen
negroes, and white men, but did not approach them.
Am completely tired out and hungry, but on the edge
of a nice little stream of water. The closing of the fifth
day of my escape. Must speak to somebody to-
morrow, or starve to death. Good deal of yelling in
the woods. Am now in the rear of a hovel which is
evidently a negro hut, but off quite a ways from it.
Cleared ground all around the house so I can’t
approach it without being too much in sight. Small
negro boy playing around the house. Too dark to
write more.
Nov. 29.—The sixth day of freedom, and a hungry
one. Still where I wrote last night, and watching the
house. A woman goes out and in but cannot tell
much about her from this distance. No men folks
around. Two or three negro boys playing about. Must
approach the house, but hate to. Noon.—Still right
here. Hold my position. More than hungry. Three
days since I have eaten anything, with the exception
of a small potatoe and piece of bread eaten two days
ago and left from the day before. That length of time
would have been nothing in Andersonville, but now
being in better health demand eatables, and it takes
right hold of this wandering sinner. Shall go to the
house towards night. A solitary woman lives there
with some children. My ankle from the sprain and
yesterday’s walking is swollen and painful. Bathe it in
water, which does it good. Chickens running around.
Have serious meditations of getting hold of one or
two of them after they go to roost, then go farther
back into the wilderness, build a fire with my matches
and cook them. That would be a royal feast. But if
caught at it, it would go harder with me than if caught
legitimately. Presume this is the habitation of some of
the skulkers who return and stay home nights.
Believe that chickens squawk when being taken from
the roost. Will give that up and walk boldly up to the
house.
 RE-CAPTURED.

HOME GUARDS GOBBLE ME UP—WELL TREATED AND WELL

FED—TAKEN TO DOCTORTOWN AND FROM THENCE TO
BLACKSHEAR—THE TWO BUCK BOYS AS RUNAWAYS—RIDE
ON A PASSENGER TRAIN—PROSPECTS AHEAD, ETC.

Doctortown Station, No. 5, Nov. 30.—Ha! Ha!

My boy, you are a prisoner of war again. Once more
with a blasted rebel standing guard over me, and it
all happened in this wise: Just before dark I went up
to that house I spoke of in my writings yesterday.
Walked boldly up and rapped at the door; and what
was my complete astonishment when a white woman
answered my rapping. Asked me what I wanted, and
I told her something to eat. Told me to come in and
set down. She was a dark looking woman and could
easily be mistaken from my hiding place of the day
for a negro. Began asking me questions. Told her I
was a rebel soldier, had been in the hospital sick and
was trying to reach home in the adjoining county.
Was very talkative; told how her husband had been
killed at Atlanta, &c. She would go out and in from a
shanty kitchen in her preparation of my supper. I
looked out through a window and saw a little darky
riding away from the house, a few minutes after I
went inside. Thought I had walked into a trap, and
was very uneasy. Still the woman talked and worked,
and I talked, telling as smoothe lies as I knew how.
For a full hour and a half sat there, and she all the
time getting supper. Made up my mind that I was the
same as captured, and so put on a bold face and
made the best of it. Was very well satisfied with my
escapade anyway, if I could only get a whack at that
supper before the circus commenced. Well, after a
while heard some hounds coming through the woods
and towards the house. Looked at the woman and
her face pleaded guilty, just as if she had done
something very mean. The back door of the house
was open and pretty soon half a dozen large blood
hounds bounded into the room and began snuffing
me over; about this time the woman began to cry.
Told her I understood the whole thing and she need
not make a scene over it. Said she knew I was a
yankee and had sent for some men at Doctortown.
Then five horsemen surrounded the house,
dismounted and four of them came in with guns
cocked prepared for a desperate encounter. I said:
“good evening, gentlemen.” “Good evening,” said the
foremost, “we are looking for a runaway yankee
prowling around here.” “Well,” says I, “you needn’t
look any farther, you have found him.” “Yes, I see,”
was the answer. They all sat down, and just then the
woman said “supper is ready and to draw nigh.”
Drawed as nigh as I could to that supper and
proceeded to take vengeance on the woman. The
fellows proved to be home guards stationed here at
Doctortown. The woman had mounted the negro boy
on a horse just as soon as I made my appearance at
the house and sent for them. They proved to be good
fellows. Talked there at the house a full hour on the
fortunes of war, &c. Told them of my long
imprisonment and escape and all about myself. After
a while we got ready to start for this place. One rebel
rode in front, one on each side and two in the rear of
me. Was informed that if I tried to run they would
shoot me. Told them no danger of my running, as I
could hardly walk. They soon saw that such was the
case after going a little way, and sent back one of the
men to borrow the woman’s horse. Was put on the
animal’s back and we reached Doctortown not far
from midnight. As we were leaving the house the
woman gave me a bundle; said in it was a shirt and
stockings. Told her she had injured me enough and I
would take them. No false delicy will prevent my
taking a shirt. And so my adventure has ended and
have enjoyed it hugely. Had plenty to eat with the
exception of the two days, and at the last had a