“I’m sorry,” I gasped, one hand clutched to my chest. He shook his head.
“Don’t be. I just hope you haven’t contracted any unpleasant diseases from that idiot. What’s your name, young ‘un?”
“Katherine.”
“Well, Katherine, I’m Second Lieutenant Moss, and this drunken wretch is Private Kali, and…well, this is our merry band of drunks and reprobates.”
“Hello,” I wheezed, hoping with all of my might that I wouldn’t vomit everywhere.
Three (Adam)
Just like every other night, we ended up slumped beside the lake, playing poker and drinking whatever cheap booze the boys had brought us. That was yet another wretched thing about this place. Food was in horrendously short supply, with days of eating nothing but bread and corn between the odd morsel of stringy meat. But every man’s booze ration was generous enough to drown a cow. We had so much of the stuff that we couldn’t drink it fast enough, even though at least half of the squad were hardcore alcoholics by now.
Pearson had started up with the violin as usual, playing the only five songs he knew in a continuous loop and quickening the rate at which I downed my whiskey. The sun had just set, so the lake was now little more than a gaping black void in front of us. Along the edge, five enormous bonfires had been erected and the flames licked up at the night sky, the wood hissing and popping beneath. I twisted away from Shaw who was collapsed on the shingle beside me, a bottle of wine clutched in each hand, the right one pinched between his thumb and two remaining fingers. With a jagged rock sat in the pit of my stomach, I squinted through the gloom at my cards. I had pocket jacks, not exactly a stellar hand but I was feeling reckless. Besides, by now Shaw could barely even focus on his cards let alone bluff or read my tells.
“Two more fags,” I announced, throwing in a pair of cigarettes. The pile on the rock between us was reaching serious numbers now, almost a pack and a half. Without hesitation, Shaw fumbled in his pocket and tossed a handful more onto the heap.
“See ‘em, and raise…however many that is.” He belched and knocked back more of his wine, then he tossed the bottle and belched again. I grit my teeth. Was this cockiness spurred by a great hand, or was it just the booze talking? I only had four fags left and he’d just chucked six extra onto the makeshift table.
“Fine,” I said, dumping the last of my supply onto the pile. “I’ll see you. What do you have?”
“Well.” He grinned and laid down his hand and I had to twist my neck and narrow my eyes to see the cards. Three kings stared back at me, looking rather smug.
“Bloody hell,” I spat, tossing my own cards away. “Whoever invented this stupid game is a prick of the highest order.” Shaw just reached out and roughly snatched up the cigarettes, stuffing them into his pockets.
“I feel like a smoke,” he said, slipping the last one into his mouth and patting his jacket until he found his old lighter, the dark silver one with the dent in the side. I watched his face glow like some kind of malevolent spirit’s as he sparked up the cigarette.
“You really are a lucky bastard,” I told him and he nodded, puffing smoke from his nostrils.
“Damn sight luckier than poor ol’ Laney.” We shared a grim look and I lifted my whiskey to my lips, knocking back a generous swig. “I really do wish I’d been there,” he said after a brief silence passed between us. “He didn’t deserve that.”
“No one ever does,” I muttered. Something stirred deep in my gut and I wondered why I didn’t feel something stronger. Anger, remorse, guilt, the usual attractive emotions we seem to burden ourselves with. Had three years of trekking through hell made me numb to the death of a friend? Somehow, after everything I’d seen and everything I’d done, it was the nameless and countless dozens that I’d put down myself that stayed with me. I dragged my palm down my face and glanced across at Shaw. “You heard anything from Mary yet?” Just an innocent change of subject but at the mention of her name, his lips pulled thin. Guess not, then.
“Bugger all. Not a damn word since we got here.”
“Maybe a problem with the post?” I ventured, knowing it was a stretch. I’d had four letters already from mum since the occupation, even though she could barely hold a pen these days thanks to her arthritis. Shaw snorted.
“I’ve sent half a dozen messages back, just in case some of them didn’t get through. She could’ve tied a note to the back of a bloody tortoise and the thing would’ve turned up by now.” He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Everyone always said she was too good for me. I was punching above my weight. And that was when I still had ten fingers.” He lifted his hand and stared at the nubs of gristle. “I know she’s found someone else. I’ve even hired someone to prove it.”
“You hired someone?” I shuffled on the gravel and peered sideways at him. “What, to spy on her?”
“Something like that. Got an old friend in the area, he was too sickly to sign up. Earns a living doing women’s work, stitching and sewing, stuff like that. He’s going to keep an eye on her for a few bob, see what she gets up to.”
“Right,” I said, “good idea.” What I actually thought was the poor bastard’s losing his mind, but he probably wasn’t too keen to hear that right now.
I was about to close my eyes and try my best to enjoy the tenth rendition tonight of The Ants Go Marching, when there came a sudden, terrifying screeching sound from somewhere close behind. I jerked upright and turned to peer over my shoulder, just in time to see two fiercely bright headlights powering towards me. The violin and background noise was silenced, replaced by the guttural roar of the car’s engine and the crunch of the shingle underneath its wheels. For half a second I was as stiff as a board, frozen in place by sheer terror. Then some kind of survival instinct kicked in and my muscles suddenly thawed. I pushed myself off the ground and leapt over Shaw, crashing shoulder-first into the ground as the car’s bumper slammed into the rock we’d been using as a card table. The entire vehicle lifted, the front wheel still spinning in the air just three feet from our faces, until finally the engine died and the headlights cut out. I blinked against the sudden darkness, my throat rasping with every frantic breath I sucked in.
“Bugger me,” Shaw said, sucking back more of his wine. He rubbed the residue from his lips and shook his head. “That was almost us done. All three of us in one bloody day.”
I was already back on my feet, moving towards the driver’s door with three other men who’d narrowly missed being flattened. I ordered them back and then prised open the door, peering inside. A soldier was slumped over the steering wheel, grunting and muttering to himself.
“Hey,” I said, grabbing him by the arm and shaking hard. His head swivelled towards me and his eyes shone as the fire caught them, wide and wild. A moment later he was staggering free and I saw who it was. Lieutenant James Turner. His face was twisted in a manic, almost animalistic snarl and I stepped backwards just before he lashed out at me, his fist slashing the air just an inch from my jaw. “Jesus, Turner,” I yelled at him. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“Bastards,” he grunted, finding his balance and lunging at me again. My heart was still pumping far too fast and I felt the familiar dizzy sickness take a hold, a copper taste spreading across my tongue, but somehow I managed to hook his arm and twist him around, throwing him aside. Turner stumbled and slammed into another man, who promptly pushed him away and fired an almighty punch into Turner’s nose, dropping him like a rock. The crunching sound was truly hideous, leaving no doubt that at least one bone in his face was broken. I thought that would be the end of it, so I bent forwards and dropped my hands onto my knees and sucked in three long, shuddering breaths, but when I glanced up again Turner was staggering back to his feet. Blood was streaming from both nostrils, smearing across his lips and his chin, but he didn’t even seem to notice. He just swung around on the spot, glaring at each of us in turn. “Bastards,” he muttered again, spitting blood at us.
“He’s h
igh as a fucking kite,” one of the others said, backing off a step. I held my ground and raised both arms, my palms spread towards Turner.
“Hey, Turner, listen to me. We’re on your side, alright? Just calm down, okay?” The glare hit me and I braced myself for another attack, but for now he just stood there, shaking and dripping. I swallowed back the acid creeping up my throat and blinked hard. “What’s wrong, Turner? Did you take something?”
“The hell with you all,” Turner screamed, then he bolted to his right, cutting between myself and the car. I watched, incredulous, as he sprinted towards the lake. As soon as I realised he wasn’t going to stop, his boots splashing across the shallow water, I cursed and took off after him, chasing his silhouette into the lake. The moment the ice cold water seeped through my trousers and hit my flesh, I gasped and almost shuddered to a standstill. I honestly thought I might pass out and drown right there and then, but somehow I kept on going, my legs ploughing through the freezing, pitch black body. I couldn’t really see him any longer, but I could hear him thrashing around just a few feet ahead.
“Bloody mad bastard!” I yelled after him, before I threw myself into the drink. The shock was intense, a truly horrible experience. My heart actually felt like it had burst free from my chest and my lungs seemed to shrivel up, unable to suck in any more air. I croaked and gasped, fighting against the freezing wall of water. He was just in front of me now, I could feel his arms and legs kicking. A wave smashed into my face and the slimy liquid forced itself down my throat, making me gag and puke it straight back up. My chest ached like someone was sat on it and I was still spluttering when my hand shot out and grabbed the bastard by his collar. Slowly I started to drag him back to shore.
Some of the other men had waded in up to their waists and were waiting to grab a hold of Turner and help him back onto dry land. I let them take him and concentrated on staggering back myself, still gasping for breath. Everything that had just happened already seemed like some kind of crazy hallucination. I was shivering violently, my vision blurring as I staggered towards the nearest fire, just a fierce orange blur to my waterlogged eyeballs, and dropped onto my knees in front of it. The heat washed over me, but still barely penetrated the ice cold clothes that clung to my skin.
“Jesus, King.” I glanced across at Shaw as he slumped down beside me, still clutching his wine. “You’re an absolute animal,” he said.
“G-go check on Turner,” I said, rubbing my hands in front of the fire. Shaw gulped back some of the wine, then held the half-full bottle out to me. I stared at it for a while, then snatched it up and drank.
“That should help,” Shaw said, struggling up to his feet. “I’ll shove Turner in one of them cells for the night. Needs to sleep some kind of shit off, that’s for sure.” He patted me on my shoulder and wandered towards the gathering, leaving me dripping and trembling.
The fire rippled and swirled in front of me and I felt the darkness creeping in at the edges. It had taken its time but it was coming fast now, bright spots popping behind my eyes and that distant ringing lodged in my ears. I'd already had two today, but the hell with it. I needed more medicine. I reached inside my jacket, fumbled through the sopping wet material until I found the pocket. My hand delved inside, fingers burrowing down until they touched the bottom. No magic pills.
My insides felt like they were burning and the veins at my temples were poking hard through the skin. I groped around in the pocket some more, in case the tiny plastic bottle had somehow wedged itself into some non-existent crevice. Then I pulled off my jacket and laid it out beside me, fighting back the darkness. My palms padded across the lining, searching for a lump. Still nothing.
"Shit, bollocks, arse. Damn you, Turner, you mental prick." I collapsed onto my back, feeling the tiny jagged rocks poke into my spine, but even that discomfort felt strangely distant. Far above me, the clouds had parted to reveal a sheet of stars. I tried to focus on them and concentrated on slowing my breath, my hands crushed across my chest, fingers interlocked.
For a while I was certain I was about to pass out and the only comforting thought was that at least if I pissed myself, my trousers were too soaked for anyone to notice. Chalk it up to exertion. But then something strange happened. The stars were suddenly obscured by a face and as my eyes focused on the young, feminine features, I realised that it was a hallucination of the girl I'd met earlier, the one Jurgen had grabbed for a human shield. The one I'd skimmed a bullet off in my godforsaken state.
Katherine, that was her name.
I smiled up at her and she smiled back, but she looked kind of sad. I wanted to tell her not to worry. After all, she was just a hallucination, a figment of my diseased brain manifest in an impressively realistic form. But before I could, I heard a heavy panting over my head and then something damp and slimy was vigorously rubbing my left cheek.
"No, Katz!" the hallucination said. I couldn't tell what was happening, but before I could protest, the slimy thing disappeared and something heavy and furry collapsed onto my face. I tried to yell but the fur got in my mouth, choking me. Then, as quickly as it happened, the bulk was gone again. I coughed and spat, scrambling up onto my elbows, and when I peered across I saw Katherine stood beside an enormous German Shepherd. Both girl and dog regarded me with a sheepish look.
"You're not a hallucination," I croaked and Katherine shook her head.
"I'm sorry," she said, hugging the dog. "I was just seeing if you were well."
"I'm alright, thanks. What are you doing here?"
"He ran out," Katherine said, staring down at the dog. "This is Katz. He's wild but he's friendly. I'm sorry he licked your face." She peered at me and probed a cut on her upper lip with her tongue. "I saw what you did. Pulling the crazy man back out."
"Wish I'd let the mad bastard drown," I said. Katz the dog nodded his enormous furry head and for a strange, brief moment it was like the bugger understood. Then his head dipped down and he started to drag his tongue across his bollocks instead. "How's your arm?" I asked, pushing up onto my feet. Katherine pouted and her hand moved to her shoulder.
"It's fine," she replied, dropping her gaze. I stepped towards her and reached out, gripping her sleeve and easing it up her arm. An angry red gash stared back, carved into her flesh. Part of the scab had broken and a trickle of blood had squeezed out and smeared across her skin. Katherine winced and pulled away and Katz interrupted his ball licking to stare up at me. I could clearly read the warning in his eyes and I stepped away again.
"That's not fine," I said. "You need it cleaned up and bandaged or it’ll rot and fall off."
She started to protest, but I cut her off and persuaded her to follow me to the doc's surgery. At this time he would be passed out by the lake with half of the squadron, but he never bothered to lock the main door so we just breezed on inside. I helped myself to the first aid kit and did a patchy job of cleaning and wrapping up the wound, although Katherine had to finish up as Katz was beginning to get antsy over me touching her. With teeth the size of my little finger on show, I wasn't about to argue with him.
"All done," I said when the pin was in place. "Right, come on, let's get you home before your parents lynch me." She stayed quiet, but I could tell by her expression that I'd hit a raw nerve and I suddenly realised why. "Shit," I muttered, folding my arms. "You don't have any parents, do you?" Katherine shook her head and sniffed, scratching Katz on the side of his face.
"Sometimes I pretend that my mother is still here with me," she said, peering up. "But it's just me and Katz now."
By the time we started down the central road, my uniform was starting to dry off and my heart no longer felt like it might pinball up my throat and out of my mouth. Katherine led the way towards her home and I wondered if I should pry some more into her family history. In the end, I decided why the hell not.
"What happened to them?" I asked her and she glanced across.
"My mother and father?"
"Yeah. Was it the Nazis?"
“So you’ve just been living by yourself? How long now?”
“I don’t know,” Katherine said with a shrug. “It was last spring when my parents were taken. So over a year.”
“Jesus Christ. What do you do for food?”
“Some things I can find myself. Berries and fruit mostly. The other people in the town, they help me too, give me things to eat. But not much food now, so they don’t help as much.”
“You’re a tough lass,” I told her, but I was glad she had that enormous mutt with her too. Everyone needs a guardian angel of some sort to help them struggle through the shitheap of life. She must have read my thoughts, because she reached out to Katz and ground her knuckles into his head.
“I don’t know what I’d do without him for company,” she said and Katz barked twice, his huge tongue unrolling and lolling back and forth.
“You had him long?” I asked. Katherine nodded.
“Since he was young. I was walking through the woods one day and I heard him howling. He was with his mother, but she was wounded bad. It looked like someone shot her in her belly. She was bleeding everywhere. I tried to stroke her and calm her down, but she snapped at me, tried to bite my arm. She was making this noise.” Katherine imitated the sound, a high-pitched whine that I’d heard once before from a dying guard dog. “She was in so much pain, I had to finish her off.”
“Finish her off? You killed her?”
“I found a rock about this big.” She held her hands about two feet apart, her expression turning sour. “It was so heavy I could barely lift it. But I managed to get it up over my head, then I threw it down onto her skull. She stopped making the noise just before I did it. She looked up at me and she knew what I was going to do. I almost stopped, but I could see in her eyes. She wanted it to end.”
Devil's in a Different Dress Page 4
