“What is it, Moss? Everything alright?”
“We found something,” he answered. He was just ahead of me and a moment later my torch beam caught his jacket, billowing in the growing wind. I pushed free of the trees and strode up to him, my stomach clenching in anticipation of what was coming. Just one quick look at him told me it wasn’t good news. A severe expression had settled on his face and even Kali looked concerned, through his usual alcohol-fuelled stupor. Katherine and Katz were messing around at the other side of the road, completely oblivious.
“Well, what is it?” I asked and Moss raised his arm and opened his fist. In his palm sat a golden eagle carved out of metal. The thing had an X carved over its eye, sloppy work most likely carried out with a pen knife. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s a trophy,” Moss said. “From the hundredth Nazi that Turner killed. He tore this thing off the bastard’s uniform and kept it for good luck.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, but the truth was already dawning on me. “You say you found this?”
“Just now.” Moss nodded, then he jabbed a finger at the dirt at the side of the road. “Right there.” He looked me in the eye and a feeling of pure dread struck me square in the gut. “Turner was right here, just a couple of hours ago. Just before he almost creamed you and Shaw with that car.”
“He’s the one,” Kali said, fingering his collar. “He’s the one what killed the girl.”
Six (Terry)
You know the day’s going to be one almighty cunt when it starts with a visit to the Major. That stuffy prick’s had it in for me ever since I was transferred to his squad and I still haven’t got the slightest idea why. More kills than any other limp-wristed nancy in his outfit and no medals or commendations to show for it, like I give a flying fuck about any of that back-slapping bollocks anyway. Fuck the lot of ‘em, bunch of airy-fairy nob-slurping upper-crusts.
Course, I don’t want the old goat on my arse any more than he already is. So as soon as the word came through that he wanted to see me immediately, I dropped everything I was doing and headed straight over. After the obligatory fag break, of course. And a stop-off in the barracks to take my second dump of the day. When the need grips you, you can’t ignore it. Bad for your health to hold it, that’s what the doc says.
This was my first time in the old bastard’s office and I couldn’t have pictured it any sweeter. The drippy fucker’s got some dead animal heads poking out of the wall, like they sprinted at the thing and smashed through up to their necks. They still looked alive, staring down at you with suspicious expressions as you take a seat by the enormous desk. Major was looking red-eyed as usual and I couldn’t help but wonder if he hated this place as much as I do. If he’d rather be out there fighting the krauts again, rather than sat around playing with his cock all day. Say what you will about the old fart, at least he had some bollocks stashed away in those flaccid pants of his.
“Second Lieutenant Wightman,” he started, leaning towards me and clenching his fists on top of the desk. Here we fucking go, I thought. Straight down to the good stuff. Drop trou and bend over this desk, sonny.
“Yes, sir,” I said, matching his cold, indifferent gaze.
“You’re currently assigned to sentry duty,” he continued and at this point I had to bite my tongue. Sentry duty, as he called it, basically involved me standing around by a pill box at the arse end of town, making sure that the Nazi army didn’t suddenly magically resurrect itself and come marching back into the joint. I knew exactly what it was. A way of keeping me down, not to mention out of the fucking way. In other words, a steaming pile of shit.
“Yes, sir,” I said, through my teeth.
“Not any more. You’re reassigned to Captain King, taking over from the deceased Corporal Lane.”
“King?” I could only imagine that my mug was a picture of confusion, brow all creased up and nostrils flared. “You want me to be some kind of police officer?”
“We’re calling them peacekeepers,” the Major said. “You’ll be helping him to keep order in this godforsaken town. I take it you heard about the dead woman they found in the woods last night?”
“Dead woman?” Truth was, I hadn’t really spoken with anyone since this morning’s wake-up call, except for the perky prick who told me to shift my arse over here. The Major nodded, a grim expression settling on his face.
“Granddaughter of the old coot who was murdered yesterday morning. Two killings in one day is a pretty certain sign that we’re losing control here. I need you to help King and Shaw to get their act together, make sure the locals know who’s in charge.”
“Alright, but why me?” I asked. The Major ran his tongue over his top teeth and sighed.
“I like King and Shaw,” he said, leaning back in his chair again. “They’re smart and they’re loyal to a fault. But they don’t have what you have. Raw aggression and a don’t-give-a-shit attitude.”
“I’m flattered.” To be honest, I was more shocked than anything. Was the old bastard actually singing my praises, in a slightly out-of-tune way?
“Go speak with King,” the Major told me. “He already knows he’s getting someone new. Try and get along and make sure this murder business goes away fast. Tensions are already sky high and I don’t want a bloody riot on my hands.”
I rose without another word and strode from the office, still trying to work out how I felt about this new assignment. On one hand, anything was better than standing around playing pocket ping pong with my balls all day. But I had a feeling King and I wouldn’t exactly get along. Admittedly I’d never spoken more than a few words to him, but he always came off as a mummy’s boy who’d somehow stumbled into the war by accident, then by sheer luck got himself promoted to Captain. Who knows, maybe he was just an expert arse licker behind closed doors.
The office was deserted when I showed up, so I ended up wandering towards the barracks, asking every twat in a uniform if they’d seen King or Shaw. Finally I lucked out. Some fishy little pleb had seen them heading into the cell block just after the wake-up call. I wandered back and sure enough they were stood outside this time, puffing on cigarettes and looking more serious than a nun on Sunday.
“King,” I said, although I should’ve really been calling him ‘sir’ as the bastard outranked me. He glanced up at me and looked for a moment like he’d just shat his pants.
“Wightman,” he replied, twisting away to hack up some phlegm. When he turned back again, I noticed how fucking awful he looked. His eyes were bloodshot, more red than white, and he hadn’t even bothered to shave. He looked even worse than Shaw, who was probably one of the biggest souses in the whole fucking squad. “What do you want?”
“I’m all yours,” I told him. “Major reassigned me. I’m replacing that schoolboy who went and got his head blown off.” Both of their faces were a fucking picture and a half when the news sunk in. King’s mouth just kind of dangled open and Shaw’s eyes scrunched up tight, like I’d just gut-punched the twat.
“You serious?” Shaw said with a smile. “We’re supposed to be stopping the homicidal maniacs, not recruiting them.”
“Fuck you, alright?” I stepped closer to the prick and bumped chests with him. “Why don’t you go slump in some corner and drink your wine, leave the real work to real men?”
“Oh for god’s sakes,” King spluttered, “stop it already. We’re not in a bloody playground.” He turned to me, flicking the stub of his fag away. “If you’ve got your orders, then fine. But I need you to do what I say, no rogue shit.”
“Rogue shit?” I couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t go rogue, I just get things done, quickly and cleanly.”
“Cleanly?” Shaw said, shaking that melon head of his. “So when you blew up the bunker down in Lienz, that was clean?”
“Killed ten German officers in one afternoon,” I replied, cracking my knuckles. “More than you managed the entire fucking war.”
“You also destroyed any plans, charts
or other useful intel we could have gathered. But then, intelligence was never your strong suit, was it?”
“Won’t be yours either,” I hissed, “when I rip your fucking head off and punt it clean across-”
“Hey!” King got between us, shoving us away before I did something I’d probably never regret. I’ll give this to him, he has more strength than you’d expect from some weedy little puff pastry. “That’s the end of it, alright? Shaw, just shut your bloody mouth.” He turned to me and jabbed a finger into my chest. “We’ll have you, Wightman, but cut out this macho bollocks. We’re on a knife’s edge right now and I don’t need this shite making it worse.”
“No problem,” I said, raising my hands and scowling back. “So come on then, tell me about this murder so we can get on with it.”
He filled me in with all the grisly details and I’ve got to admit, I was intrigued. Old man cops it in his house, skull smashed in with a hammer, then just a few hours later his granddaughter’s found bare-arse naked in the woods with her throat crushed. Some tragic shit. But my interest was really grabbed when he told me about Turner’s little lucky charm being found at the scene of the crime.
“Fuck my arse,” I said with a smile. “You reckon Turner did her in?”
“I don’t know,” King replied. “We’ve got him in a cell. He was completely out of it last night, almost drowned himself in the bloody lake. He’s still sleeping it off. When he wakes up, we’ll see what he says. In the meantime, we need to ask around, find out where this girl lived, who she was living with and when and where she was seen last.” I shook my head.
“Alright, but good luck getting any of these krauts to open up. Most of ‘em would ignore you if you told ‘em their fucking house was on fire. And if they find out it’s a soldier what done that girl in, we’ll be lucky if they don’t come at us all with fucking pitchforks.”
“Found you,” came a voice from behind and when I turned around I saw that crazy doctor storming towards us, firing a seriously fucked-off look our way. I didn’t mind the doc, but he had to be the angriest man that was ever born. I’d bet he even curses in his sleep, the miserable prick. Thankfully he ignored me, aiming his withering glare at King and Shaw instead. “I’ve come by twice already today. What’s the point of having a fucking office if you’re never fucking there?”
“Did you find anything?” King asked, ignoring the outburst. The doc glanced at me with an eyebrow raised.
“Am I okay to discuss it in front of him?”
“Aye, he’s just joined the team.” That seemed to stun the speccy little bastard. He gave me the up-and-down like I was a gorilla in uniform, then he shook his head and turned back to King.
“Okay, then. I examined her from head to toe and spotted two things. First, I found traces of semen in the vaginal canal. If I had to guess, I’d say she had sex immediately before she was killed.”
“Jesus, doc,” I said with a grin. “You probed around in that poor dead girl’s wet spot? You scabby old pervert.”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” the doc hissed, finally shooting that devilish glare my way. “I’ll rip your goddamn kidneys out, you bloody meat head.” I raised my hands and swallowed back the sarcastic reply that hovered on my tongue.
“Fair play. Just a joke, doc.” He grimaced at me a while longer, then he shrank down and turned his back on me.
“Ask around,” he told King, “see if she was going with anyone. That’s your best bet.”
“Will do,” King said. “What’s the second thing?”
“Second thing, it looks like someone slashed her hair with a knife. There’s a bit at the side that’s frayed. Looks like about ten centimetres is missing.”
“Strange,” King said, pouting and scratching his cheek. “If her murderer had a knife, why was she strangled?”
“No idea,” the doc replied. “I just tell you what I see, you’re the one who’s supposed to piece all this crap together.” King smirked at that.
“Alright, thanks then doc.”
“Not a problem.” The doc glanced around and then leaned in. “Got something else for you too,” he whispered, just loud enough for me to catch. King nodded back.
“Okay. Shaw, Wightman, you start with the locals, see if anyone knows anything. I’ll try and wake Turner and get some sense out of him.” With that, King and the doc headed into the cell block. I was half tempted to follow, to see what this mysterious extra thing was, but Shaw fixed his evil eye on me and crossed his arms and I knew the prick wouldn’t shift until I was gone. So I flashed him a wink and a smile and fucked off in search of some info.
Seven (Adam)
He dropped the tiny plastic bottle into my palm and I almost shook with relief. The sound of those little capsules bouncing around inside was the most glorious thing I’d ever heard. My body was deep into the cravings but I quickly fumbled the pills into my jacket pocket so I didn’t appear too desperate, then I smiled at the doc.
“Appreciated.”
“You know I’m running out,” he said, that worried little frown settled on his lips. “I’ve got maybe a month’s supply at best and I don’t know if I can get any more.”
“It’s alright,” I assured him. “It’s just been a crazy bloody time lately. Once we get this murder solved and things quieten down, I’ll try and cut back my dosage.”
“Mmm.” He glanced back over his shoulder, then leaned in. “You’re not lying to me, are you King? You really did lose those pills in the lake, pulling that deranged bastard out?”
“Doc, I swear, that’s what happened.” He left it at that, with a nod and a pat of my shoulder, before turning his attention towards the nearest cell.
“Speaking of which,” he said, strolling up to the bars. “Has he stirred at all yet?”
“He was awake for a few minutes earlier.” I leaned against the wall and peered in at the poor wretch, still curled up in the corner where we’d dumped him, like a knackered old dog. “At least, I think he was. Kept mumbling and kicking out with his feet. I couldn’t make any sense of the shite coming out of his mouth.”
“Want me to take a look at him?” the doc asked. I shrugged.
“You think it’s a good idea?”
“Well, if he’d just been ploughed out of his mind on booze last night, he’d at least be in a coherent state by now, albeit suffering from a hangover worse than death.” The doc banged on the bars a few times but Turner didn’t even stir. “This looks like something else entirely. Maybe he got his hands on something even I don’t stock.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Well, I’ve heard that some sedatives can make you go a little loopy if you mix them with booze.” He turned to me with a glimmer of a smile. “That’s the problem with all of this new shit doing the rounds. It’s unpredictable. Best to stick with what we know.”
“Alright, well, if you think it might be serious,” I said, fishing out the key for the cell. I unlocked the door and heaved it aside so the doc could get in, then I followed and stood at the other side of the cell, giving him room to work. The doc started by rolling Turner onto his back, not an easy feat as the bugger was all tense and stiff like a corpse. Corpse was a good comparison as Turner was dead to the world still, not even stirring as he was man-handled into position. Finally, when he was spread out across the stone floor, the doc knelt by his shoulder and slipped two fingers beneath Turner’s jaw, poking the tips into his throat. He paused like that for a moment, his brow creased.
“Pulse is a little high but nothing serious.” The doc hunched over and pulled back Turner’s right eyelid. A bright blue eyeball peered back. “He really is out of it,” the doc said, almost sounding impressed. He turned to me with a grin. “Whatever filth he ingested last night, I could use some of it mys-”
I can’t remember exactly how it happened, but I think I saw that eyeball swivel and focus on the doc just a half second before those meaty hands came up and wrapped around his neck. Suddenly Turner’s screams fill
ed the cell, his face a picture of pure horror. He looked like some demented apparition, spittle flying from his lips as he screeched and pushed his fingers into the doc’s throat.
“Jesus bloody Christ,” I yelled, pushing away from the wall and throwing myself at Turner. I grabbed a wrist with one hand and pushed my other into his face, trying to separate him from the poor bastard he was throttling, but I was in such a rush that my palm slipped and the next thing I knew, his teeth were sinking into my flesh. The crazy fucker bit down hard, crunching the bones just beneath my fingers. God, the pain was horrific, shooting right up my arm and making me howl like a bloody wolf. I let go of his wrist and did the only thing I could. I jabbed my thumb into his gaping eyeball, pushing down until his jaw finally released me and he fell away.
In a mad panic I stumbled backwards, slamming down hard to the ground. For a second all I could do was stare aghast at my hand, blood seeping from the tiny tooth holes and trickling down onto the dusty floor. Finally the adrenalin kicked in and I shook myself out of the stupor, gritting my teeth and pushing back up to my feet. Turner had at least let go of the doc, but he was still thrashing around and yelling at the top of his lungs. Meanwhile the doc was sucking in great gasps of air and trying desperately to scramble away on his arse, eventually battling his way back out of the cell through the open door. I let him go, then I slammed the door shut again and turned to the crazy bastard kicking out and buckling against the filthy stone, his hands pressed over his face. If I were deeply religious, I’d have sworn that the man was possessed by some kind of demon, trying furiously to escape its fleshy cage. The noise coming out of him was inhuman, halfway between a screech and a snarl.
“Turner!” I yelled, dodging to the side as his foot lashed out at me. “Snap out of it! Can you hear me, eh? Calm the fuck down!”
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