Forget the Alamo! (The Lone Star Reloaded Series Book 1) by McGunn Drew

Author:McGunn, Drew [McGunn, Drew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

The ant crawled from the tree bark onto Will’s exposed hand. He squashed the insect and removed his hand from the tree as he spotted a trail of ants along the trunk. He turned to Crockett, who knelt beside him. “How far out do you make them, David?”

Crockett peered through Will’s spyglass before replying, “Maybe six, seven hundred yards away.”

His breath condensed in the morning chill, but Will thought it a bit warmer than the last few days. To Will, the cazadores that moved slowly along and next to the Camino Real were no bigger than the ants crawling along the mesquite tree, but he had become very familiar with the blue-jacketed foes over the last few days. Following the near destruction of the Dolores Cavalry Regiment, Santa Anna had used his light infantry effectively to screen his army. Unfortunately, Will amended.

Since the battle at the arroyo, Will’s men had set several ambushes along the road, leaving another dozen of their own dead in their wake. For their trouble, they inflicted forty casualties on Santa Anna’s army. The high point of the retreat was watching Crockett shoot an infantry officer from more than four hundred yards away. While Will was frustrated with Santa Anna’s newfound wariness of ambushes, he reminded himself, “We slowed him down to scarcely more than a dozen miles a day, and gave Grant and the others plenty of time to set up one hell of a defense on the Nueces River.”

Since the previous afternoon, Will had been in contact with the main army. Now, less than a half mile separated him from Colonel Grant. And less than half a mile separated the advancing Mexican cazadores from Will, Crockett, and thirty riflemen, who were hidden amid a field of mesquite trees and scrub brush, running alongside the Camino Real. Additionally, Seguin’s remaining cavalry, now only twenty-five strong, hid behind a large copse of mesquite trees behind Crockett’s riflemen. Will’s plan was simple. Crockett and his riflemen would open fire on the advancing cazadores at 250 yards. Seguin’s men were situated to provide protection to the riflemen when they pulled back toward the main defensive position along the Nueces.

The long minutes ticked by and Will checked his pocket watch a couple of times as the cazadores snaked their way closer, along the Camino Real. Although his pocket watch showed only fifteen minutes had elapsed, it felt like an hour had come and gone before Crockett said, “Right about there.” He aimed his rifle and fired. Will watched the gray, acrid smoke swirl out of the barrel, then looked downrange where he saw a soldado clutch at his arm, as he spun around, falling to the ground. Along the line of riflemen, sheltered amid the scrub brush, another thirty rounds sped toward the Mexican skirmishers.

As his riflemen hastily reloaded, Will kept his eyes on the cazadores , many of whom began running in the direction of Crockett’s riflemen. The smoky haze of gunpowder hung in the air, as Crockett’s riflemen sent more shots into the advancing skirmish line.

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