Hunted: A Revolutionary Short Story

Warren is a young Torie in the time of the American Revolution. Having been driven out by the vile revolutionaries, he is out for revenge against the people who took his family from him.

Let me tell you the story of a young man named Warren. He was a young man, born a Torie in the Revolutionary War. Trust me, you'll want to hear this story, it is well worth your time.

...

The Patriots were on the hunt and Warren was on the run. The year was 1780, and the revolutionary war was in full swing. Warren ducked to hide as a Patriot came his way. Born to a family of Tories, Warren was fully loyal to the King of England, which the Patriots didn't like much.

Even though he was just sixteen, Warren was forced to run thanks to the rebels. Gosh, darn those blasted rebels. Warren thought as he loaded his trusty "Brown Bess" Musket. If only the King had the common sense to squash this revolution earlier. Warren wasn't one to complain about his Majesty much, but right now he was bout' ready to curse just about anyone who might be to blame.

As he heard the shouts of the Patriots looking for him, Warren thought back to the night when he had been forced to run.

...

It had been a couple of months ago. He and his family had been saying their prayers, thanking the good Lord for the stewardship of the King, when they had heard shouts just outside. His mother had told him and his younger brother to hide upstairs. From the small attic, they had heard the loud banging at the door.

"Open up! We know you're in there you stinking Tories!" A gruff voice had said. When no one had answered, the Patriots had busted down their front door. Warren had heard shouts as the rebels had taken his dear Papa outside. Warren had told his brother to hide in the trunk at the foot of their bed.

Warren looked out the window and saw the men taking his father, and forcing him to kneel. He had watched in horror as the Patriots had poured burning hot tar all over his Papa. After pouring the tar, the rebels had ripped open a pillow and covered his father in the feathers. He heard his mother scream as she watched. The men turned from Warren's Papa, leaving him to die.

The men had asked Ma where Warren and his brother were, she refused, telling them they could all go die in a hole. The man in charge had told a couple of soldiers to search the house, to find the young men. As the large Patriots came up the stairs, Warren had hidden underneath the bed nearest the stairwell. Saying a quick prayer for his brother, Warren bolted. Before the men realized it, Warren was down the stairs.

Warren had grabbed his trusted musket and ammo and ran. He ran as fast as his feet could carry him. He ran until he couldn't run anymore. Then, he had sat and cried.

That night had made Warren the man he was now. That night had led him to find out valuable info about the rebel forces. That was why he was running now, desperate to deliver the valuable information the British Army, so they could finish those blasted rebels off, once and for all.

...

Another shout roused Warren from his reverie. The Patriots were close to finding him, and it was terrifying. Crawling on his hands and knees, Warren slipped underneath a nearby wagon. To his left, he could hear the loud footfall of the armed rebels. He held his breath as he saw a pair of feet stop right by the wagon he was under. Time seemed to slow as he lay there, paralyzed with fear. After what seemed like hours, the man moved away.

Warren Slipped out from under the wagon and bolted behind a nearby house. As he sat there, Warren considered if it was worth it to try and take a shot at a rebel. Chances were, all that would do is alert them to where he was. Besides, he wouldn't stoop to their level. It appalled Warren what savages the Patriots were, tarring and feathering innocent Tories, carrying off Torie families to who knew what fate.

And to think, this whole rebellion started with what the rebels called "Natural Rights." What an atrocious idea, the simple fact of the matter was that his highness King George the Third gave them all the rights they needed. It was obvious that the mother country of England needed the money after so generously protecting the colonies from the French during the French and Indian War.

And that whole war wouldn't have even been started if it weren't for him. That rebel leader George Washington, if he hadn't started that whole war with France, they wouldn't be dealing with this so-called "revolution" right now. Then, from behind him, Warren heard a shout.

"There he is! Get that Torie!" A large man shouted as he started running at Warren. Seeing the man charging at him like a large bull at a red cloth, Warren leveled his gun at the man. Then he was blindsided by another man. His gun misfired, the bullet ricocheting around the alley.

Warren tried to wiggle free from the man who had tackled him. Then, he looked at his attacker. It was him. George Washington himself was on top of him. The rebel leader was aged, well into his fifties, but he looked much older as if the war had stolen several years from him. Warren was trapped, by the man he hated so much.

Then, Warren remembered something. He had snatched a flintlock pistol from a Patriot home he had been in earlier. Warren reached in his pocket slowly, pulling the hidden gun from his jacket pocket. Warren pointed the gun in Washington's face and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. The blasted gun hadn't fired, and now Warren was powerless to free himself.

Soon, Warren was surrounded by the rebels, bound and thrown onto a horse, and taken to the Patriot camp. A rebel led him into a large tent, where he was tied to a chair and left to wait. Warren eventually fell asleep as he waited, waiting for who knew what.

...

Warren awoke to cold water in his face. He sputtered as the water went up his nose, causing his head to ache. His vision was blurry from the water, but he could make out the vague figures of several men. Blinking the water out of his eyes, Warren could finally see who they were. George Washington and the famous Marquis de Lafayette.

The two men watched him for a moment before Washington finally spoke. "What did such a fine young man do to get into a situation such as this?" Washington said as he stroked his chin. Washington was tall, standing at six feet. He had rotten teeth, mixed with the occasional wooden false tooth, and his hair was extremely white.

Warren refused to speak. Washington got closer to Warren as if examining him. "What I don't get, is why such a fine young man is so full of hate toward the cause of liberty and freedom," Washington said gently as if he were seriously concerned for Warren.

"I'll tell you why. Because you rebels tarred and feathered my Papa. Because you took my Mama and brother and forced me to run." Warren said with venom in his voice. "And let me tell you about your little cause of so-called liberty and freedom. It's all going to end in disaster. The King has been very kind and generous, and what have you done? You've spited him. He protected you, he provided you plenty of freedoms, yet you rebel against him?"

Washington stepped back at these words as if contemplating Warren's point. "Let me tell you about the King," Washington said as he sat down in a chair across from Warren. "The King you call so kind and generous, is not really that way. He abused his power, calling it 'protection' and making us pay for it. The King had no right to tax us, and he certainly didn't protect us."

"LIES!" Warren yelled as he spat at Washington. "And no matter what you do, I will tell King George's forces where you are, and what you're planning."

Lafayette spoke up. "If you do not tell us what you know about His Majesty's forces, I'm afraid we will have no choice but to sentence you to death by firing squad." Washington gave Lafayette a weary look but nodded in agreement. It was clear that this man did not like unnecessary death, but that didn't change the fact that he was one of them.

After more questions, none of which Warren answered, the rebel generals sentenced him to death by firing squad in the morning.

...

It was a long night as Warren contemplated his death sentence. He had never felt more alone, more afraid, not even after he had lost his family. He almost felt sorry for the people he'd harmed as he sought vengeance. A tear trickled down his eye as he thought of his family. He would join them soon enough.

He remembered the pain of watching his dear Papa in excruciating pain as the Patriots had tarred and feathered him. He remembered the whimpers of his brother as he left him in the chest in their bedroom. His loving Mama as she screamed while watching them torture Papa.

Finally, at the break of dawn, the time came. Warren was escorted out by two rebels. They were sickly, with shoes worn down to nothing but scraps. Their clothes were in tatters and threadbare. Warren couldn't help but feel pity for these men. Why would they give so much to a vain and doomed cause? Because it's not vain. He thought.

The men tied him up to a tree outside the camp, then joined a line of men, each with a firearm in their hands. Warren thought about all his regrets, how he wished he had just stayed and died with his family. He wished he'd been brave enough to stay and fight, to have died fighting.

The men all had solemn looks on their faces as the leader called out the commands. "Aim!" The men looked like they regretted killing him. As if they didn't like the thought of harming others. "Steady!" Warren closed his eyes tight. What if these men aren't the monsters I thought? Warren thought. What if Washington had been genuinely remorseful when he had sentenced Warren to death? Could it be that their cause was just? That it was right?

"FIRE!" The head Patriot yelled.

"WAIT!" Warren screamed. He wanted to join them, he realized they were right, and he was wrong. He wanted to be redeemed, to fight for the cause of freedom and liberty.

BANG!

...

By some miracle, that day, every single one of those guns misfired and missed Warren. Warren had a change of heart, and so joined the cause of the Patriots as one of the most fervent members of the revolution. There is a strange thing that happens when one faces death, what a change of heart can happen. When a man has not long to live, he suddenly wishes the best for humanity, to right all his wrongs. Warren became a man well admired by others and eventually found that his family was still alive, even his dear Papa.

Warren went on to become a colonel in the continental army and a close friend of General Washington. Later in life, he went on to marry a beautiful young woman, and they had six wonderful children. Warren lived out his days as a merchant in Boston, and he remained a firm Patriot the rest of his life.

I hope you learned something from the story of Warren. He went through such a miraculous change of heart, and surely the Revolutionary War would have been lost without him. As for me, I am simply a teller of tales, which may or may not be true. Until further Adieu, farewell dear reader.