Purgatory's Shore (Artillerymen # 1)

by Taylor Anderson

De Russy reluctantly turned back to face Lewis and spoke in a tone of brittle dignity. “I have one final order to give. In light of my current . . . inadequacies, and Major Reed’s dangerous wound—Dr. Newlin fears he may lose his arm and faces a lengthy incapacity at best—and in view of your own amply demonstrated leadership qualities, I hereby order you to assume military command of this combined American force upon these strange and unknown shores.” Lewis was staggered. He’d had enough of “overall” command, just of those forces stranded with Mary Riggs. He’d expected to assume more authority in their current situation, over all the artillery at least, and was prepared for that. But he’d been looking forward to dumping the rest back in someone else’s lap. On the other hand, De Russy was right. Lewis admired his integrity, but he was clearly unready for something like this. Reed should be . . . But no, Dr. Newlin’s already evacuated him to the new fort. I didn’t realize he was hurt that bad—but I didn’t stop doing what needed to be done long enough to check on him either, he realized with a touch of shame.