Exhaustion tore at my body, and Brennan was correct to doubt my ability to survive. We hadn’t seen any battles yet, but if he kept wearing me out, there would be no way my body would be able to handle the speed and clear-headedness needed for war. Having set my watch to survey, I watched him scurry off to work, then leaned against an engine for some much-needed rest.
Warships came and went, yet we stayed docked. Sitting on the edge of the main deck allowed me to watch them go out on missions, and I noted when many didn’t return.
Thomas’s two-dimensional face looked up at me most days where it rested inside the watch, but his expression in the photograph never changed. My heart darkened as his loss finally began to set in. Most of my days, I could push aside my pain by losing myself in work, but the rest of the time, my thoughts were all that kept me company.
Brennan kept me doing back-breaking or boring grunt work, and in the month I’d been on the ship so far, not one person wanted anything to do with me. He had likely told everyone to stay away, or more likely, no one wanted to know the kid who was going to die first.
This was good, of course. It didn’t matter much to me anyway, since the more people who knew me meant the more people who might discover my true identity. It was already bad enough the admiral was on the Queen, and could accidentally learn the captain’s wife had been working under his command, but there was no need for anyone else figuring it out, too.
Still, isolation began to wear on my sanity. On several occasions, a vision of Thomas came to me through clouds of steam, but it was always someone else who appeared when the steam cleared. The lack of friends and energy was going to kill me far faster than a bullet would.
• • •
Three months passed and my isolation began to wear on me. I quickly became angry and annoyed when Brennan issued orders. During a particular argument, he told me to check the screws again, and I informed him of what he could do with those screws. He grabbed my arms, threw me against the wall, and informed me that next time I argued with his orders, he would throw me off the edge of the ship without a parachute. Wisely, I decided it was best to say nothing to him instead of smarting off. I see now, my darkness worsened with every passing day.
On the night of November 7, 1875, four months after my arrival, we finally left the dock and headed toward a fight. Information of a squadron of Italian warships that headed quickly toward London gave the Queen Victoria no more time to stay out of the fight. All remaining air support was sent to intercept them. This would be the final stand for England. If we fell now, it was all over. England would be lost forever.
Brennan stood waiting, one hand wrapped from the break it had sustained. He looked at me and laughed at my wearing my full uniform, as he always wandered around shirtless to avoid overheating. This, of course, wasn’t an option for me.
“You’re going to be too hot,” he said, smiling. “You will be running full tilt around the ship and sweating like a thief. You should shed some layers.”
“I’ll be fine,” I replied. He was right, of course, but if my breasts were bouncing all over the place while I ran around, someone would notice and it wouldn’t bode well for me. He simply shook his head and waited.
The deck was especially hot as the engines ran full steam, bringing us toward our destination. Sweat ran down Brennan’s bare chest, and my eyes were locked onto the sight of him. Long days alone with only myself left me mostly unsatisfied, and the thought of Brennan touching my body filled my head, making me turn away for a moment, disgusted at my thoughts’ betrayal.
He had been cruel to me daily, forcing a barrier between us, but now in the roaring engine room, waiting for a fight, I only noticed his beauty. His scruffy face and toned figure made me shiver, and the thought of what was under his trousers brought a sensation low in my belly, long forgotten. A vision of Thomas broke into my thoughts, and vomit broke free from my mouth.
“Get it up now, boy,” he said loudly over the roar of the engines. “Soon you won’t have time for that. Check your gear and prepare yourself.”
My tools were all there and had been checked three times. Thomas the watch was pressed firmly in my hand, along with the picture of Thomas inside. Just as I finished a prayer to God asking for forgiveness for my sins, the battle began.
The faint sound of gunfire could be heard in the distance. Our engines slowed as the unmistakable explosions came closer, then the ship shook violently and the communication tube came to life.
“Gun deck three, section five has taken severe damage, repairs required.” The yells and screams of my shipmates could be heard in the background; the sound of soldiers’ pain echoed off the walls. Brennan took off at a sprint, shouting orders that I could not understand. The bindings holding my bust also restricted my breathing and halfway there, I had to slow before passing out. The halls were in chaos, people running and yelling, sweat pouring from everyone’s brows, and the look of concern on every single one of their faces.
Upon entering section five, the sight before me brought shock and horror, and my limbs failed to move me any farther. Men lay burnt and bloody on the floor, their screams filling the room. Grown men lay with severed limbs, crying and screaming out for God to help them.
My breathing became fast and hyperventilation set in. My chest wanted to explode when it could not get enough air, but the grotesque scene before me kept my vision locked into place.
“Get these guns firing again, or we are all dead,” Brennan yelled as he grabbed hold of my arm and threw me toward one of the large guns. They were blown apart and it would be impossible to fix them. Fallen ammunition rolled underfoot, and for the second time since coming aboard ship, the ground caught me. As I dropped, my watch fell from my hand and sprang to life. It immediately looked around, turned its own knob, and ran off to fix the damage. When I hurried after, not wanting to lose Thomas a second time, things went terribly wrong.
A small section of metal had torn free of the wall, and the fight outside could be clearly seen. We were outnumbered at least three to one. The enemy swarmed our ships like wasps protecting their queen. Their cannons fired at an almost unstoppable speed, and our ships fell just as fast. This was, in fact, going to be the end of everything I knew. This was the end of England, of my family, and my friends. Everything Thomas gave his life for was being lost before my very eyes.
Then, in less than a second, something struck me in the ribs and a moist sensation ran down my side. The world slowly blurred and then went black.
Brennan was right. I hadn’t lasted five minutes.
• • •
Thomas lay next to me, propped up by one arm, the other running up and down my stomach. He nuzzled my neck, making my heart beat faster.
“You are purposefully being distracting,” I said, annoyed.
“Is it working?” he replied.
“No,” I lied. When he stopped and looked at me, his eyes full of sadness, it broke my heart. “Thomas, what if I am unable to bear your children?”
“We will keep trying.”
“And if it is not possible?”
“Then we will visit the orphanage, or do nothing at all.”
“This will sit well with you, having a wife who is unable to carry on your name?”
“Having you as my wife is all I need. Times are not what they once were. Do you want children who will grow up knowing only war, or worse, living in a country fallen? What if I join the fallen?”
“Don’t say that!”
“Mary, you need to end this delusion you are under. We are at war, one we may have started nonetheless, and we are losing. I have moved up the ranks through cleverness and luck. That won’t last forever. A captain can perish as fast as his crew, I am no exception.”
“You are one of the greatest captains England has ever seen.”
“And still a man who bleeds like everyone else. If a bullet strikes me in the heart, I die the same way one of my mechanics would.”
“Why do you hurt me so?”
“Because, Mary, you need to prepare yourself. I leave tomorrow and will be gone for months. If we don’t start winning battles, or find a peaceful resolution, I may not come back at all. You are my love, and I need you to be ready for any situation.”
The thought was more than I could bear and I pulled away from him, stood, and walked away. We didn’t speak another word that night, and he left early the next morning.
Three weeks later, a post came stating Thomas had been killed. His body had been badly mangled in a ship crash, and his fleet had buried his remains at sea.
• • •
The crackling of a fire woke me from my nightmare. Shirtless, ribs bandaged, and covered with a wool blanket, I looked around the makeshift shelter, wondering where I was and what was going on.
“Who are you?” Brennan asked as he sat with his back against a tree, gun in hand.
“Oliver Dick—”
“Cut the shit, lass. The question won’t be asked a second time. You will answer me, or I will put a bullet in you and rid the world of one more spy. Now, who are you?”
“I’m not a spy.”
“If that is true, why are you unable to tell me your name?”
I let out a sigh, thinking of my options. There were none. “My name is Mary Summers.”
Brennan’s eyes turned into slits and he stared daggers into me. He cocked the gun and pointed it unwavering at my head.
“That isn’t possible.”
“And why not? Why should my husband be able to die at the hands of the Italians, but his wife cannot? Why can’t I fight for the very same cause he died for?”
“You are the captain’s wife?” Brennan said, his eyes wide.
“I was.”
“But how? Why?” Brennan stood and began to yell.
“Please sit, sir, and let me explain.”
“Sir . . . sir! You’re the bloody captain’s wife!” His voice was panicked.
“And you are my commanding officer.”
“But—”
“Please sit so we can discuss this,” I pleaded.
Brennan paced around for several minutes, worry creasing his forehead. He looked at me, then to the ground and back again. Losing some battle in his head, he decided to sit far from me.
“Why?” he asked.
“Do you expect me to have stayed home, wearing black and feeling sorry for myself?” I said bitterly. “My husband is dead. He gave his life for a cause I scarcely understand. I have the right to know why he fought and how he felt being here.”
“You could have been killed!” Brennan yelled. “You still may, and I think that is what you wanted all along.” Accusation narrowed his eyes, making it hard to look into them knowing he had gleaned the truth.
“If that is the way it is to be, then I shall understand the life of the man I love,” I said calmly.
Brennan looked away. “One hundred fourteen,” he said softly after several long minutes passed.
“Come again?”
“One hundred fourteen souls have perished under my watch. One hundred fourteen soldiers gave their lives to follow your husband, and protect people like you, and you make it worth nothing by coming here to die.”
“Make it worth nothing? Tell me, what will it be worth now that there is no England? Our fight is over, and we lost. At least I can say I stood with those who fought for England.”
“And will likely die for England. The Italians leave no survivors.”
“It comes as quite the surprise to see a man like you give up so easily.”
“I’m not giving up, I’m facing reality.”
“You claim to have looked up to my husband as some great figure, and yet you betray his memory by waiting for death.”
Anger flashed across his face and he glared at me. Before he could reply, a branch snapped from a few yards off. Brennan stood quickly, gun drawn, and looking for the source of the noise.
As he shifted to look around the wall, the hand of an Italian soldier grabbed him by the wrist and forced him off-balance. The soldier brought his arm down hard, hitting Brennan and forcing the gun to the ground. Brennan replied with brute force and grabbed the man with both of his hands, then threw him into the metal wall, sending them both to the ground.
The soldier rolled out of the fall and got back to his feet. As I tried to stand, my wound reopened, sending a flame of pain shooting through my side, so I dropped back to the ground. Brennan and the soldier glared at each other, fists raised like boxers. The man said something calmly in Italian, looking at me, which I didn’t understand.
In response, Brennan swung his fist, quickly hit the man, and knocked him back. He shook his head slightly, then advanced on Brennan. The Italian was every bit as fast and strong, sending punch after punch at Brennan, then finally landed one hard against the cheek, knocking him forcefully against the wall. Brennan yelled with rage, then ran forward and landed a hit square on the man’s jaw. The Italian went down hard and didn’t get back up.
Blood dripped from a long wound on Brennan’s arm, where he had caught a jagged piece of metal during the fight. Anger ran across his face and he picked up the gun, pointing it at the soldier’s head.
“No!” I screamed.
“He wouldn’t think twice about killing one of us.”
“This is why you must not kill him. We are more civilized than they are. They can take our country, but will never be able to take what is inside of us.”
Brennan looked at me with a defeated expression, then shook his head and put the gun away.
“We need to leave, now.” He grabbed a small pack of gear, tossed me a shirt, and began scanning the area. “I’m pretty sure he wasn’t alone.”
I slowly put on the shirt, cringing as I moved. My wound bled slightly, but the bandages weren’t overly saturated so I didn’t worry about it. We snuffed out the fire and crept through the dark woods, unsure of where we were headed.
It was quiet in the woods as daylight broke through the trees. The farther we walked, the more confident we were that there were no more soldiers in the area. Birds began to chirp again as the wildlife came to life all around us. The only other sound was the burbling that came from a small stream we followed to avoid walking in a circle.
I glanced at Brennan, noting that his shirt was coated in blood, and he slouched as he walked. “We should take a break,” I said, “and fill up on water.”
Brennan didn’t reply. He simply moved toward the stream and collapsed. Not knowing how long he had been awake or the extent of his wounds made me unsure which caused him to pass out. Although I knew a little first aid from the books Thomas brought home that gave me some confidence in helping him, it would have been better to have a medic. But there was little choice in the matter; something had to be done quickly.
The wound on his arm wasn’t that deep, but it wouldn’t stop bleeding. I pulled his shirt off and tore it into long strips for bandages, though anything too bloody was used to start a fire. After tying his arm off, I ran to the stream, soaked some of the cloth, then cleaned the wound to the best of my abilities.
Finding a small medical kit in the supplies he recovered from the crash, I stitched the wound roughly and hoped he would be all right. Using long branches as leverage, I painstakingly dragged him, having to stop every few feet to rest and check my wound, to a tree where I covered him with shrubbery. I then took the gun and went into the woods to keep watch for our pursuers.
Over the next couple of days Brennan’s wound started to heal, but the bandages needed to be changed often. Even after being washed in the river, they were too dirty for further use. The only cloth left for bandages was what covered me. Having no choice, I relinquished my shirt and made several more bandages from it, leaving me bare to anyone we might come across.
There had been no sign of a search party, and it was clear no one thought survivors had made it this far into the forest. My body ached and needed to be soothed. The cold water of the river called to my aches and
pains. After removing the rest of my dirty clothing, I waded into the stream and sank into the water, letting the cold water run over my body and wash away any dirt and blood. The small wound on my abdomen was not much more than a scratch, and the coldness numbed my lingering ache. Finally being able to relax, my dreams took me.
• • •
My legs moved as fast as they could. The branches of the trees smacked my bare body, stinging with every touch, but the Italians were close. The river water that had wet my skin had been replaced with sweat. There had to be somewhere to hide and escape. A shadow stood in the distance and waved for me to follow. Was it a trap? There was no choice; my pursuers were getting too close.
The path the shadowed figure had me follow was smoother, and the trees stopped their constant assaults. My legs ached and exhaustion began to take me. The shadow moved in and out of my vision, keeping a steady distance from me. When my body was finally about to give out, the shadow stood before me at the entrance of a large cave.
I cautiously moved toward him, barely able to breathe. The man stepped backward into the cave, still watching me. As I entered, there was a fire burning at the center that illuminated the cave and my savior. To my amazement, Thomas stood looking at me with his upturned smile. I froze in place and could only stare.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said calmly. “Come to me. I want you with me.”
I took a cautious step forward, then heat from his body warmed my chilled skin as he moved close. My fears dissolved, bringing a calm long forgotten. Overwhelmed, I fell to my knees, crying uncontrollably. Thomas was finally here and wasn’t going anywhere.
He squatted in front of me and wrapped his solid arms around my body.
“Please don’t leave me,” I said through my sobs.
“Never, my love,” he replied before he placed his soft lips against mine. The anguish faded as he made love to me with just his mouth. His touch, his kiss was a feeling I missed more than any other. He pulled back and stood, pulling me up with him, then kissed my neck. He ran his hands lovingly over my body as he moved slowly behind me and kissed the back of my neck and shoulders.
Moments In Time: A Collection of Short Fiction Page 3
