Gabriel's Journey by Alison Hart Read Free Book Online

corner of the first ward and hunker behind a stack of firewood. The soldier canters his horse right by my hiding spot, but I reckon he’ll be back soon for a closer look.
    Behind the hospital there’s a small building half-hidden in a stand of trees. I peer around the woodpile. To my left, patients in wheelchairs sit on a terrace, basking in the early morning sun. Some have bandaged limbs; others have no limbs at all. I don’t see any mounted guards.
    I take off for the trees, hunched low so as not to attract attention. My lungs are about to burst when I reach the outbuilding. The door’s unlocked, so I rush inside. It’s cool and dark, with only one small-paned window lighting the room. I shut the door and crouch behind a table, my heart pounding like the reveille drums.
    Outside I hear the guard’s horse trot past.
    I hold my breath, listening for approaching footsteps. If I don’t find Pa soon, I’ll have to look for Captain Waite. Mister Giles told me that if I wish to stay at Camp Nelson, the captain would have to secure permission from the colonel of the regiment. With papers from him, I won’t have to hide from every eagle-eyed sentry.
    I huddle there in the shadows, waiting until I’m sure the guards have given up their search. Slowly I rise from behind the table, my eyes on that window. Nothing stirs beyond the glass panes, and I exhale with relief. As I sling my bundle over my shoulder again, my hand brushes something bristly. I drop my gaze to the top of the table, and goose bumps rise on my flesh.
    A man gazes up at me, his bearded face waxy with death. Gasping, I scuttle backwards and bang into the edge of another table. I whirl. Another man lies on top, his unblinking sockets raised toward heaven. His cheeks are sunken, his arms skeletal.
    Shuddering, I force myself to look around the room. Table after table holds a corpse. More are piled in a corner, like a steeple of flesh.
    A scream clogs my throat.
    This place is filled with the dead!

Chapter Five
    S lapping my hand over my mouth, I lunge for the door, throw it open, and tear out of the building. I flee around the other side of the hospital and race blindly across the pike toward the colored barracks, all worries about that mounted guard scared straight from my mind. I glance over my shoulder, picturing dead soldiers chasing me—dry flesh flapping, brittle bones rattling—and the scream finally spews unbidden between my fingers: “Aieeeee!”
    Whack!
I slam into someone so hard that I bounce into the air and land on the ground. A white soldier stares down at me. He’s young, with only a trace of mustache over his lip.
    â€œP-pardon sir . . . I mean, C-Captain,” I stammer. “Pardon for knocking into you, but . . . but . . .
g-ghosts!”
I wave wildly in the direction of the hospital.
    Laughter busts out all around me, and I stop stuttering long enough to realize I’m completely encircled by colored soldiers.
    One of the soldiers addresses the young officer. “Cap’n Waite, sir, I reckon this boy must’ve stumbled into one of the dead houses.”
    Two strong hands lift me from behind. “Stand up, Gabriel.”
    I spin around. “Pa?”
    He’s not laughing with the others. “Men, this young man who claims to be seeing ghosts is my son, Gabriel Alexander. Son, you remember Captain Waite. And these are the soldiers of Company B.”
    I lower my head, ashamed at my cowardliness.
    â€œDon’t fret, Gabriel,” the captain says. “There’s not a man among us who dares enter a dead house, even on a bet.”
    A chorus of “Amens” rings through the air.
    Captain Waite suddenly turns serious. “All right, men, it’s time to get a move on!” he shouts. “Attention!” The soldiers hastily assemble into even lines, all eyes to the front. Pa stands to the left, his three yellow sergeant’s