Cautiously, Andy lowered Sam to the ground. His face and neck burned to the touch. That wasn’t a good sign, was it? Andy didn’t think so.
In a small voice, Sam whined, “Andy, I just can’t—”
“I know.” Andy leaned Sam against the trunk of a tall sapling and frowned as his lover’s head lolled to one side. He looked like a child’s rag doll, battered and torn and tossed away into the woods. “We’ll rest a minute.”
Sam nodded listlessly and Andy paused to catch his breath as he looked around them. His heart stuttered in his chest, adrenaline flooding his body. He’d never felt as useless as he did at this moment. Part of him expected to hear sounds of the Confederate Army at any second, men crashing through the woods toward the battlefield…were they far enough away that they wouldn’t be seen? They had been walking for hours, it seemed, but when the fog burned off, would they only find they hadn’t made it very far past the clearing at all?