Damnit! I think furiously, and I slump helplessly against the wall, my legs still holding my weight somehow. I can feel sharp pricks in my eyes that can only mean tears are coming and I will them not to fall. Why can't anything ever go right? Everything always has to go wrong.
"George Washington, you're not planning on leaving, are you?" The Captain smiles nastily. "I have to advise you not to."
"And why is that?!" Alex challenges, taking a step forward, but Washington shoots out his hand catches Alex in the chest.
"Stay back Alexander. We can't afford for you to get hurt." Washington warns him.
"Now now, Washington. Let the kid have his fun! Of course I'll answer your question, see, after that dreadful fight we had down in the quarry most of our miners are gone-" The Captain starts, but Alex cuts in.
"Your slaves, you mean!" he shouts at him.
"Ooh no! I don't like that word. We don't use that word around here, no no," Captain George shakes his head. "We call them workers or miners. Anyways, since most of them are, sadly, dead, I've decided I need more. And I'm going to bring in people from all over the nearby towns, and I'm going to bring them in younger. And the more people I loose, the more you're going to be condemning innocent children." he looks pure evil, smiling insanely, his eyes flashing madly. Alex splutters indignantly.
"But- but that's-! That's terrible, why would you even think about doing that?"
"Why not? I see something I want, and I take it. No matter how hard it is to receive. You may not know it now, but one day you'll thank me." George smiles.
"I'll never thank a monster like you!" Alex says harshly.
"All this talk it boring me out. I don't like the idea of killing you, but I won't hesitate if that's what I need to do to get the troublemakers out of my mines. So, will you join me, or not?" At once an uproar on the rebels side starts. Mostly everyone is shouting different forms of the word "no".
"Wrong choice," Captain George says, and then sneers as he says the word: "Fire." To his army.

"Everyone get down!" Washington shouts, and we all scramble to get down on our knees and avoid the gunfire. A few people dash around the corner, and others dive into the cell, myself included. Five guards approach the cell and fire into it, and I find myself lunging at one, kicking him in the chest, and forcing his gun out his hands. I bring the butt of the gun on his head and knock him out, and turning, furious to the others. It didn't matter that I was injured, I didn't care that part of me wanted to get shot. All that mattered, was that my friends' lives were in danger, and I had the hunger of the basic human instinct to survive. I fire my gun and a bullet goes through a soldier's chest, right as he fires another one at me, that goes over my shoulder and misses me by inches. The other three soldiers were inside the cell, and focused on killing off everyone else inside. I see a dead body of a man with blonde hair, and his bright green eyes are half open, but glazed over. And I'm suddenly thinking of myself, and my own dead body, and how I would look, with a bullet wound through my heart.

A shrieking voice brings me back to my senses, and I see a Schuyler sister, the youngest one, Peggy, I think her name is, cornered by a guard. Before he can shoot her, a bullet gets lost inside his head. I didn't know I was this good of a shot. I rush forward and knock his staggering body out of the way.
"Run!" I say to Peggy, and she doesn't hesitate. I see her dash out of the cell, and down the corridor, looking for her sisters. A bullet whizzes right in front of my eyes, and I spin around to see the last solider, standing over the body of a girl with short red hair, blood pouring from a wound in her side. Without thinking about it, I run forward, ducking so a bullet wouldn't go through my head, and kick the shins of guard. He trips and falls over his victim, and I bring my boot down on his head, knocking him out. Maybe my father was useful for something after all, he did teach me out to fight, and gave me fast reflexes from all those years of running away.

I might have attacked five British troops, but there's still at least fifteen left. I don't have time to think about my actions as I hear screaming coming from the end of the hall. I skid out of the cell and around the corner, coming to a stop at the start of a long corridor. It's chaos. Blood, every, fighting, gunshots, screaming, smoke. And bodies. We're definitely outnumbered, we started with nine, and they started with twenty. And yet we seem to be fighting back, but maybe that's because we have help. Someone, (and I have a very good idea who) unlocked the cells of the Captain's starving victims, and they're filled with rage and the want of revenge, and so they're ready to fight. Perhaps Captain George didn't think about the cleverness of his actions, by teaching his slaves on how to be strong in the mines, making them get a thirst for revenge, and then giving them an opportunity to fight back. But maybe, I think, and I smile to myself a little, even though our present situation is so grave. Maybe I gave them the opportunity, like Lafayette said. And then I run off to join the fight, still smiling, but now with hope flaring up inside me.