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She pulled me out of the couch away from the body.Her voice was growing stronger now."...to leave. Come on Stephanie," she sobbed and cried,"pack your things, we can't stay here anymore."She took me upstairs and then everything was a blur.The next thing I remembered was sitting in the car, fully clothed,my other clothes in a bag on the backseat and my mom driving, crying.I couldn't concentrate. I stared out in front of me.Trees, grass, the sky, it all flew past but the image of the body was haunting me.Not moving... blood coming out of the head... mom with the rock in her hands.Then it hit me... he was dead. Dead. I laughed, I cried.Emotions shot through my head like bullets. Then my mind went blank.I woke up in a strange double bed wearing only underwear.Instantly my mind brought up the picture of the body.I tried to shake it off, to forget it, but it didn't work. I looked around.A chair, a window and a door to my left, a cabinet and mirror in front and what lookedlike a hallway and. "Well then, do what you can on that score and give us exact figures for the Continental army's numbers, regiment by regiment with as many leaders' names as you can. I'll give you three days. If you are not back here at sunset then, Amanda goes into the meat grinder. She'll not survive, none do. Those damn tars are hell on women."I heard him leave and then I was untied, and the scrawny man with a big pistol in one hand and a lantern in the other led me outside where my horse waited with my weapons and blanket roll. They surely had been efficient, thought I as I mounted, somewhat stiffly and made my way back to camp.Lt. Foster listened to my tale, decided it was an opportunity to feed the enemy false information and went off to concoct the same while I ate and rested, worried about Amanda as well as my own hide which I was about to put back into the enemy's hands. A full day later, he made me copy in my own half-literate scrawl the figures provided, and told me to betray my friend.
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