by Luis Samways
“Yes, sir, I am, and always will be.”
“Good. So you should get off your knees and stand up straight. You shall do as I say. You will go into the cell of that Jew, the last Jew, and fuck him good and proper. You should fuck him so hard that when you ejaculate, his eyes will thrust out of his head. You shall make sure the Reich will forever run through him until we put him to death. You shall do that and then report back for your punishment,” said the Commander.
“But, sir, what is the point of this? How does me defiling the Jew accomplish anything?” asked Jerry.
The Commander’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed Jerry by the throat and yanked him to his feet. His gloved hand clasped at his throat, squeezing his voice box, nearly pushing it down Jerry’s throat. All Jerry could muster was a gargling sound.
“We want information. We want to know if he really is the last Jew. And we want him to pay for being the last Jew! You got that? Now get going, you mongrel shit!”
The Commander let Jerry go. He struggled for breath as he held onto his neck. The Commander’s eyes were lit with fury as he dusted his cape-like attire and sat on his desk. The chamber boy continued his work, not batting one eyelid at what had just transpired.
Chapter Thirteen
The Rebel Compound
I opened my eyes to see Jerry dashing over me. He was holding a gun. I heard a few pops. They were harsh pops, like the sound of a car engine backfiring. It woke me up pretty quick. What first started out as a daze soon became reality in all its Technicolor glory. I saw him overpowering a few men. Jonas was one of them. It was like watching the Incredible Hulk. He was throwing men around like they were toddlers. He was angry. The angriest person I had ever seen, not counting old videos of Hitler I had seen before he died forty-odd years ago. I then heard some screams. A few of the army men had retreated. I found that strange. Why would they retreat from one man? What could Jerry possibly do to them? They were a small army. Jerry was only one guy. And then I saw them. I saw fifteen or so rebels join Jerry. They were opening fire on the Germans. I saw all of the Germans hitting the ground hard.
Machine gun fire was tearing their backs up. Small puffs of blood were hanging in the air for a few seconds after each shot. I shut my eyes tight with every shot that was fired, trying not to see what was unfolding around me. I was scared. Everything sounded chaotic. My head sounded tinny. And then someone grabbed me. I opened my eyes. I was being helped up to my feet. I felt uneasy, and unsteady. My head hurt real badly. I grabbed at it and saw blood. I must have been hit with something. And then everything around me became real. Smoke and ash filled the air. It confused me. What the hell was going on? And then I saw the bomber planes. Another bomb fell. It was around a hundred feet from me. Jerry turned to face me.
“Get in the bushes and run. Follow my lead, and you will live. Fall behind, and you will die!” He then ran off to my right.
All the rebels followed. Bombs were going off. They were getting closer. I looked around. I saw the dead bodies. I started to panic. That could be me if I’m not careful. The Germans have come and they have come prepared. I could see a mass of airplanes coming my way. They lit up the sky like unnatural lights. There were two planes in front and a few helicopters. The helicopters must have seen me. They opened fire, ripping up the dirt around my feet.
PUFF PUFF PUFF PUFF.
The dirt kicked up to my face. I could feel the warm soil protruding into my mouth. I spat. I then saw Danni. She was still on the ground, motionless. That was when my adrenaline took over.
“Danni, get the fuck up! The Germans, they’re coming!” I screamed, to no avail.
She remained motionless. I grabbed her by the chest. Her soft skin touched mine. I grabbed her and heaved her up. She didn’t move. It was then I decided to scoop her up into my arms and put her on my shoulder. She didn’t weigh a thing. Either that, or I was Hercules for that moment in time. It was then that I made my way into the bushes. Machine gun fire was pelting leaves up into the air all around me and hissing past my ears. I could see Jerry in the distance. He had made good ground. All that surrounded us was trees, and with every passing second, I feared the helicopters were going to cut them down with their gunfire. It was then I heard the wailing sound approaching me. I knew what it was. It sounded as if two rockets were heading my way. And sure enough, I was right. They busted through the tree line and hit the stream in front of me. A huge splash of water and dirt exploded a mere few feet away from me. That was when I slid to the right and ran as fast as I could, still holding Danni tightly as I made my way to the group.
As I broke through the trees, I saw the army truck waiting ahead. A few men guarded it. They were scanning the bushes. They nearly shot me, but Jerry ushered me over. I reached them, and he pushed me and Danni into the back with the rest of the rebels. He jumped into the back as well, and banged hard on the truck’s side. It was with that signal that we were driving off in our getaway truck at more than a hundred miles an hour, winding down the roads Jerry had taken me through a few days earlier. The only difference now was that we had two attack helicopters after us, and it didn’t look as if they were going to leave us alone anytime soon.
Chapter Fourteen
Thirty-four Hours Earlier
“So it’s just you and your brother?” Jerry asked as he sat slouched against the hard prison wall. He lit up a cigarette and handed one to Jacob. Jacob grabbed it and put it into his mouth quickly. His hands shook as he tried to stay conscious after the various beatings he had received that day.
Jerry could see how much pain he was in. He got up and moved closer. Jacob flinched, but Jerry calmed him down by chucking him his lighter. After a few seconds, Jacobs’s cigarette was alight after a few failed attempts. Jerry then grabbed the lighter and moved back to his corner. He sat there, staring at Jacob as he inhaled the cigarette.
“They say those things can kill you, you know?” Jerry said timidly.
Both men stared at each other some more, and then burst out laughing. It was an uncontrollable laughter. A laughter that was contagious. It felt good to laugh; at least it did for Jacob. They then remained silent for a long while. Both had gone through half the pack before either of them spoke.
“You know I didn’t want to do this?” said Jerry, finally breaking the silence.
Jacob lit up another.
“Neither did I. I didn’t want to be the ‘Last Jew,’” he said.
“Well, according to what you told me, you aren’t the last Jew. Your brother Abel is.”
Jacob laughed.
“Maybe I said that so I wouldn’t be raped.”
The silence in the room returned.
“I wasn’t going to rape you,” Jerry finally said.
“Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t matter,” said Jacob, still puffing on his smoke.
“I think it does matter. How the hell do you think I feel?”
Jacob smiled for the first time that day.
“Guilty, hence why you are letting me smoke your cigarettes.”
Jerry stood up, feeling angry.
“I don’t feel guilty. I know who I am and what I stand for. The thing is, I don’t agree with how we go about it, that’s all.”
“Oh, so you do admit you are a Nazi?”
“No, I am not a Nazi. I’m just an agent, doing his job,” Jerry said, sitting back down.
“And what job do you actually do, besides raping Jews?”
Jerry knew he was being tested. Jerry knew that Jacob was trying to get a rise out of him. It wasn’t working. Jerry wanted information. He wanted it for the right reasons. At least that was what he was telling himself.
“So your brother, where is he?”
Jacob remained silent for a long moment. “If I tell you, then I’m going to be killed, aren’t I?”
Jerry nodded. “Even if you don’t, you’ll be killed, Jacob. I can’t stop that from happening. They want you dead. That’s what they are going to get. The Reich always gets what it wants,”
said Jerry, now standing back up, looking at the cracks in the cell floor.
“What do you want? What is it that you actually want, Jerry?”
“Information on your brother. Maybe I can spare him. Maybe I can hide him.”
“But they will kill you. If you try to spare my brother, they will kill you.”
Jerry paced the length of the cell for a while and then made his way to the door.
“They are going to kill me anyway. Either tomorrow, or the day after, you can bet your ass that they will kill me. Agent of the Reich or not. I disobeyed orders. I didn’t do what they wanted me to do. Before I die, I want to make sure I do something right, if it’s just something little. I want to do something right.”
Jerry walked out of the cell and shut the door. He bent down to slide the peering gap shut.
“Abel is in the trenches of Maryland. The dumping grounds. He’s safe there,” Jacob said, turning over and putting his head down as if he was about to go to sleep.
“He’ll be safer when I find him. I know people. People who can keep him safe. I promise, Jacob. I promise he’ll live.”
Jacob coughed. “Either way, I’ll be long dead before you find him. Let’s hope that in death I am still honored, and you’re not the type of man to break a promise, even if it is to a dead man.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Chase
We were being chased by helicopters. All sorts of machine gun fire was hitting the dirt as we passed it. The wheels were skimming bullets. It was a wonder that no bullets had yet hit any of us. We were in plain view. The back of the truck was wide open. The pilot and the gunner could see all of us heaped up in the back of the truck. They could see the look of terror in our eyes as we swayed from left to right, balancing out, getting ready for another onslaught of gunfire. Jerry was hanging on for dear life. He was angry and scared. I could see it in his eyes. He didn’t want this to happen. I could see he’d had a change of heart. It was obvious, really. What man would risk upsetting the Germans the way he just did? A man who wasn’t afraid of dying, that was for sure.
I saw Danni sitting on the rickety trailer floor. It was rusty and dusty. The specs of green paint that donned the truck’s exterior had found its way inside. It was a weird mesh of colors. A surreal mixture of reality. Sparks were bouncing off the sides of the truck. The helicopter was finding its mark. They managed to hit the truck a few times. Everyone in the back of the army vehicle crouched and ducked at the sound of the pinging gunfire.
“Fucking hell. We are going to die!” one of the rebels said as he hung on in terror.
“Man up! We need to figure this out. We need to get out of this alive,” Jerry said as he grabbed his AK-47.
He steadied himself as he got to his feet and balanced his legs as the truck went over some bumps. He took aim at the helicopter. He then fired a full magazine. I put my fingers into my ears, trying to muffle out the gunshots. It made no difference; I could still hear them.
I watched as the helicopter started to weave in and out, dodging each shot that Jerry had let out. Finally Jerry stopped firing his rifle. A look of defeat had washed over his dirty face. He looked beaten. I could tell that he thought we were all done for, as did the entire group. We knew that it was just a matter of time until we came to our demise. We couldn’t run from an army; it wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t realistic.
“Maybe we should pray?” said Danni, looking up at all of us huddled together as if we were struggling for body heat.
“Pray to whom exactly?” asked Jerry.
“Whoever is watching over us? I don’t know — let’s just pray,” she said, this time with a little more conviction.
I smiled at her. I thought it was fitting, really. When it came down to it, everyone feared death. Even Jerry. Even Danni. Even me. Well, especially me.
“I think it’s a good idea,” I said, trying to back her up. She gave me a warm look. I don’t know how to express what a warm look is, but it definitely made me feel warm, so I guess a warm look it was.
“Horseshit. We fucking mow these fuckers down. Sammy, where’s the launcher?” asked Jerry.
The guy he called Sammy looked nervous.
“We only have one rocket, and they are usually best suited for tanks, not moving helicopters, sir,” Sammy said.
At that moment, a hellfire of bullets had started to penetrate the back of the truck. One of the bullets hit Sammy in the leg. He let out a scream. The helicopter was firing 30mm auto-cannon rounds. They had modified it to fire at a rate of 3,000 rounds per minute. My guess was that they had an infinite stockpile up there, but I knew we would probably be dead before they ran out of ammo.
“Someone hand me the damn launcher,” Jerry shouted.
Within seconds, he had the RPG in his hand. He put it on his shoulder and aimed. Everyone in the truck hit the floor and scrunched themselves up into tight balls. I looked up at the helicopter, which was gaining on us. With every passing second, it got closer and closer, until all that remained was inches between us. It was then that Jerry fired the rocket. Half a second later, the rocket reached the helicopter. Milliseconds later, the helicopter exploded, leaving nothing but falling debris on the road behind us as we sped off.
Chapter Sixteen
Somewhere in Germany
Cindy Goldstein sat her daughter down on the park bench and lifted her summer dress up a little.
She could see the scrape on her daughter’s knee. It was confirmed by her little girls wailing. It wasn’t the loudest she’d ever heard her daughter scream, nor would it be the last time she heard her scream. She was used to her baby girl crying. When Daddy came home, both of them would have been used to crying. But that was then and this was now. It seemed as if both of them were paying for mistakes made by other people. That was partly the reason for the trip to the park. It was partly the reason for the pep talks that Mrs. Goldstein, now known as Cindy Stedt, gave her daughter.
“Everything will be fine, Mary-Lou. You’ll see. It’s just a little boo-boo. Nothing that will make your leg fall off!” she said, trying to interject some humor into the already humorless world they lived in.
“But I want Daddy!” the little girl said.
It made Cindy mad. It pissed her off something rotten, that her little girl would still scream out for her daddy, even after everything that man had done to them. It made her blood boil to the point that sometimes she felt like ending it all.
She used to be a woman of resolve, but now she felt as if all she had was empty promises of safety and a peaceful life. After all, it was her duty to provide such things as a mother. It was only her and Mary-Lou, not counting the daddy, who most of the time was away. That was why she was at the park.
“Daddy is at work, Mary-Lou. He won’t be able to see you until he comes back, which won’t be for a long time,” she said, trying to cover up her creaking vocal chords.
“Where are we going, Mommy?” the little girl asked, wiping the tears away from her face.
“Somewhere far away. Someplace where we can feed the ducks and maybe even get a dog. Someplace where we will be safe,” Cindy said, tears welling up and falling down her face.
“But we can feed the ducks here,” Mary-Lou said.
“Yes, but these ducks aren’t any good. They are troubled. They have no morals. The ducks where I’m taking you are kind and caring,” she said.
She held out her hand, smiling down at her daughter.
Mary-Lou smiled back.
She had already forgotten about her knee. She had forgotten how her mother had dragged her out of bed in a hurry. She had forgotten about tripping over her bedside table and scraping her knee. Her mother hadn’t forgotten. It was all that was on her mind. It played back, constantly, for what seemed like every waking second. She could never forget what she’d done. It wasn’t in her to forget such things. Maybe, with time and its passing, maybe she could forget. But the constant look of heartbreak in her young daughter’s eyes would always remin
d her of that day.
“You ready, dear?” she asked, still holding her hand out.
“Yes, Mommy. Let’s go and see the new duckies,” she said, a youthful innocence about herself.
Cindy gently lifted Mary-Lou off the bench and plunked her on the ground. She grabbed the two suitcases lined up behind her and made her way out of the park toward the train station down the road. She stopped abruptly and took one last glance at the town she had called home ever since she’d gotten married. A tear rolled down her face as she said goodbye in her own way. She then carried on down the road, hand in hand with her bubbly little girl, Mary-Lou.
Chapter Seventeen
The Getaway Truck
I must admit, the sight of blood was something I thought I was getting used to. Just a few days ago, I would feel faint at the slightest scent of blood. Now it seemed I had gotten used to it. I supposed watching your brother being torn to pieces will make you de-sensitized to certain “flesh wounds.”
Lying on the floor of the moving truck was Sammy, one of the rebels. He was gasping for air like he had been hit in the chest. I was surveying him. I was tasked with keeping him calm while Jerry patched him up. He only had a flesh wound to his leg. A piece of shrapnel must have hit him, because if one of those 30mm auto-cannon shells had hit his leg, he would be legless. He was lucky, really. We all were, if I’m going to be honest.
The truck had received quite a beating. Holes were punctured through the armored material the back of the army truck was made from. We could see daylight piercing through the holes. I could see a stream, some trees, and a whole lot of mountains. Maybe the driver thought that going deeper into the sticks would make it harder for the pursuing army that would most likely follow us after that escapade at the compound.
The tree line and mountain ridges were a near salvation in my already troubled heart. I immediately felt that maybe we would have a chance now that we were moving into hard terrain. I thought that the bumpy roads and hilly inclines we were passing would make it difficult for the pursuing Germans. I mean, there was no way they would be able to get tanks up these hills. They were littered with all sorts of rocks and streams, making it hard for even our wheels to fit through the crevices. I suppose my ignorance was the only thing keeping me from going into even more of a panic.
