Caleb groaned, "How will we ever find them?"

Levi rode into the field, dismounted and stuck a finger into the remnants of a small fire. "'Tis cold." He got back on his horse and began to search the ground near the edge of the clearing, until he found a place where the bushes and grass were heavily trampled. "They went this way."

Stopping only to rest the horses and eat what little they could find in the Redcoat's saddle bags, they followed the trail of John's regiment until it turned east on the road that bordered the James River. An hour later, they sat on their horses staring at the bloody bodies of Redcoats and militiamen alike strewn across the road. Women searched the faces of the dead looking for fathers and sons. One cried out and other women gathered to carry a body to a waiting buckboard. A man with paper and pen, scoured pockets of in an effort to gain the names of the dead and write them down. In time, the names would be posted in the center of towns across the land.

"I'll do it," Caleb said, dismounting and walking to the first body dressed in the ordinary clothing of the militia. He looked at the face, and then shook his head. There were so many, Caleb stopped looking back to reassure his brother. Instead, he moved on to the next and the next, until he had seen the last face. He shook his head finally, headed back and noticed Levi Moore was gone. He glanced around until he spotted him waving from the edge of a clump of trees.