30th May, Early morning: A morning as any other

Zeb Palmer smirked at the others. Hadn't his brother told them that he was going to tell the sergeant? "Yes, sergeant, we're lookin' fer Zack Pye."

Was it yes or was it no? More likely yes. It was something else entirely to be looking for a missing Rifleman than simply hunting for a lost piece of kit.

"Indeed," Talbot drawled, boredly scratching himself. He had no idea who 'Zack Pye' was, which meant the lad was not from the 95th. "How d'you lose a whole man, eh?"

"Loose him?.. Think we just missed him, sergeant." Palmer needed a smack over the ears. Though, if Pye did desert, they would be in a pickle for trying to cover for him, thinking he did not. Splendid. While clips and boxings were being delivered he knew yet another one who'd be deserving!

Cotton sighed. Looking for someone didn't mean he was lost, did it? It just meant that they weren't sure where he was - which wasn't the same thing at all.

"He'm probably slipped past us an' went back to camp," he said. And out of all of them, he was the one who was needed back there himself. If he was missing when the Captain wanted him, it'd give things away much too soon - much sooner than otherwise.

Why the hell did anyone have to go and fetch a Sergeant? That was just going to confuse things and make everything worse. Probably.

He shrugged. "Captain'll be wantin' me. I got to go."

"Go 'fore he misses you." Webber agreed, glancing at the sergeant. "Think we should all be going, sergeant. We'll see our man back in camp, I'm assured." He nodded with some confidence, though in truth he had none. If the boy deserted or he was severely wounded he might be lying somewhere around where they were at present, perhaps a ditch or bush, and if they departed they would not find him and then he might die. If he had not already. But if he was found a deserter, or they found to have supposedly assisted him, they'd all be in a pickle.

Bloody damn.

What a complete flaming mess it all was. Cotton could only hope now that he'd turn up of his own accord. They'd done his best to find him, but they couldn't cover for him any longer.

And now there was a senior NCO there, Cotton couldn't go without receiving a proper dismissal.

"I'm real sorry, Sar'nt," he said. "I'm the captain's batman; he'll be wantin' me."

"Right. On you go, then, you lot." If the 60th really had lost a man, it was a shame. Had there been more time, he would have left them to search. The army, however, was shortly to resume its march. Time, for such pursuits, was up.

"Cheers, Sar'nt!" Cotton would see the others later and didn't need to waste time taking his leave of them. He gave a quick nod to the Rifleman of the 95th - the others would see him right - and turned to head back to their bivouac at the run.