Silent Killing

by Shiralyn J. Lee

  George knew that this was the end of the line for him. Instead of standing defenceless, he chose to jump away from the steps, into the centre of the dark cellar. A single shot was fired from above, catching him in his stomach. He collapsed to the ground.

  Alice went to step out of the shadows but Vera held her back. Silence was their only safety net.

  “You are more arrogant than I thought. Perhaps I should send my soldiers down to kill you all?” he said with a barbarous tone to his voice.

  Orders were given for the two soldiers to go into the cellar. They marched immediately, even though one of them had an injury to his leg. Holding their rifles in their hands, they stepped down into the darkness. It was harder for them to see, as their eyes had not adjusted to the dark, but for the others, they were able to make out where the soldiers were. Maintaining their silence, they waited for the soldiers to get further into the cellar.

  Now standing behind them, Alice and Vera had the upper hand in attacking them before they were able to use their rifles. Vera raised her arm above her head and threw the axe into the back of the injured soldier. He dropped to his knees, where the cold damp floor waited to greet his face. Catching a glimpse of Gordon and Sergeant Webb as he fell, he was unable to call out to his comrade, or his commanding officer.

  The other soldier lifted his rifle but before he was able to shoot a round, Alice quickly and quietly sneaked up behind him. She swiftly placed her hand around his face, covering his mouth to muffle any sound that he might make. With the knife held tightly in her other hand, she brought it up to his neck and without thought, she drew it across his throat, deeply slashing the skin, then allowed him to drop to the ground like a heavy sack of potatoes. Feeling a wet sensation on her hands and realising that it was his blood, her feet froze to the spot where she stood. She began to shake vigorously, unable to scream out from the horror that had just occurred.

  The man in the hallway couched down at the top of the steps. He pointed his gun downwards and fired off two more shots. “Give yourselves up! There are more soldiers on their way here at this very instant. You will not get away with this.”

  Sergeant Webb, with his back against the wall, edged his way around the cellar, until he was close enough to the steps to be able to see the top. He caught sight of the figure couched in the doorway. Taking aim, he raised his arm up in front of his chest and rested his pistol in the crease of his elbow. As the figure moved forward to take another pot luck shot into the cellar, Sergeant Webb fired his pistol, catching the man in his arm and causing him to drop his gun down the steps. Cautiously, he made his way to the top, where he found an injured member of the Gestapo, holding his hand firmly over his wound. Removing his Swiss army knife from his trouser pocket, he flicked it open and knelt down at the man’s side. “You bloody bastard,” he said quietly to him.

  The man attempted a laugh. “You really think that you can get away with this. You’ll be found and shot. Perhaps the soldiers will have a little fun with the women before they kill them. I can assure you that it is very likely that they will. Before you finish me off, perhaps you should know whose life you are taking. I am Otto Beiswenger.”

  “You’re a bloody bastard and a Jerry to me.” Facing the point of the blade towards Otto’s neck, he jabbed it hard into the skin.

  Blood spurted from the wound like a fountain, as Otto slumped to one side. Even in his dying moments, there was a look of triumph in his eyes.

  Sergeant Webb crept over to the front door to check for any other soldiers. There was a car outside with only one occupant. It was Josée, who was seated in the front passenger seat. She was smoking a cigarette, as if she was in no immediate danger of being arrested. Seeing that she was alone, he gave a low tone whistle to attract her attention. She heard it and looked directly at him—her eyes widening as she realised that he wasn’t the person whom she was expecting. He acted casual, as if he was glad to see her and waved her to come inside the house.

  Josée had no choice but to go inside. She considered the fact that she may have gotten away with her betrayal of them and that they knew nothing of her double-crossing them. She smiled at him and slowly got out of the car, ditching her cigarette in the street. She looked both ways for any sign of German presence but the street was empty. Nervously, she walked towards the house.

  Sergeant Webb stood at the door, pretending that he was glad to see her alive. He greeted her with a hug and whispered into her ear. “We’re safe, we all are.” He closed the door quietly behind her, locking it, to keep her inside.

  As soon as she walked past him, she was greeted with Otto, slumped by an open doorway. “Is he dead?” she asked.

  A cold answer of, “Yes,” came from Sergeant Webb.

  “Did he say anything to you? It must look quite suspicious to you with me seated in the car so casual. I can assure you that I was playing a role to…” A sharp pain hit in her lower back. Feeling dizzy, she turned around slowly. In front of her stood an angry looking man, one with fierce hatred in his eyes. A second pain hit in her stomach and looking down to see what had caused it, she was confronted with a knife sticking out of her. No other words could leave her mouth, as she attempted to pull the knife out of her body.

  But being filled with hatred for anyone who double-crossed them, Sergeant Webb gave her a helping hand in dying quickly by shoving the knife deeper into her and holding it firmly. Twisting it, he gritted his teeth, “Traitor,” he sneered and then pulled the knife out of her.

  Grabbing her stomach, Josée, taken by complete surprise, could barely breathe. Her legs gave out on her and she collapsed to the floor—her eyes bulging and streaming with tears. Her chest heaved slowly, as she gasped for her last breath…the air leaving her lungs, as the lustre ebbed from her traitorous eyes.

  •••

  Down in the cellar, George, in pain, laid on his back. Alice knelt down, resting his head in her lap. She removed the gag from his mouth. Vera ripped a piece of material from the bottom of her blouse and pressed it firmly down on his wound.

  George flinched with the pain caused. “It’s no use,” he managed to cough out.

  Alice stroked his hair back away from his face. “Please don’t say that, please don’t,” she sobbed.

  George looked up at her, his eyes showing that he was in a great deal of pain. “It’s no use. I know that this is it. I’m dying, sweet Alice Bennet.” His smile was forced as he showed his bravery. “Now, in the bag that Gordon’s been carrying, you’ll find some papers. They’ll have information of times, dates and places. These are false documents. They’ll buy you all some time to escape, while the Germans try to figure them out.”

  Vera put as much pressure as she could on his wound. Deep down, she was aware that he wouldn’t be leaving the cellar alive. “You’re going to be fine. I really don’t know why you’re making such a fuss,” she told him bravely.

  He coughed again. “Josée double-crossed us all. Just after Gordon and Sergeant Webb left the house, there was a knock on the door. It was Otto Beiswenger. He is a member of the Gestapo. He had been watching our moves and Josée had been informing him of our plans to rescue the British airmen. He didn’t have an address, as I didn’t give it to her, so he ambushed me when we were just about to leave. She told him everything.”

  Alice reached over for the canvas bag. Opening it, she found a wad of documents inside a brown envelope. “Is this what you mean?” she asked him softly, as she fought back her tears.

  George nodded. Wincing, he said, “Hand them to me.”

  Her chin quivering, Alice placed the envelope into his hand. “What are they?” she asked Vera.

  “These are documents with a plan for an air-raid attack on Roubaix. If the Germans are to come across them, they will be led to believe that all allied forces will be advancing to that area for an attack on the schools that we mentioned earlier. They will think that they are being smarter and will send as many soldiers, tanks and planes to that area, ready to ambush any
land and air attacks. They will have no reason to believe that these are false documents. The real attacks will be elsewhere. For the safety of all those concerned, we do not have this information. Now, George,” she said, looking back down at him. “Let’s concentrate on fixing you up, so we can get you out of here.”

  George smiled up at her. “We both know that that’s not going to happen. Now get yourselves out of here and let me die in peace.”

  Alice let out a cry. She couldn’t help it. Hearing George speak so bravely, knowing that this was the end of the road for him, she was too traumatised by the whole ordeal. “Please don’t say that,” she whimpered. She felt his shoulders suddenly relax into her lap. Stroking his hair, she dreaded looking down at him.

  Still smiling, George closed his eyes…

  Not able to console herself, Alice let the tears flood from her eyes. The others acted quickly around her.

  Sergeant Webb removed the jackets and trousers from the two dead soldiers and gave them to the British airmen to put on. He picked up their rifles and slung them over his shoulder, carrying them with his own. “Do either of you boys know how to shoot a pistol?” he asked them.

  “Yes,” John replied.

  He handed them each a pistol that he’d taken from the dead soldiers. Now, we need to get the hell out of here before reinforcements come.”

  With Sergeant Webb leading the way, they slowly made their way up the steps to the hallway. Mariette’s body lay in the door opening and over the top step—they had to stride over her. On the other side of the doorway, Otto sat slumped against the wall, blood had soaked the shoulder of his jacket and down one side of the front. Josée laid sprawled close to him. On the immediate pavement outside of the house, Antoine laid in his own pool of blood.

  Everyone quietly walked over the bodies. Alice was the last one to exit the cellar, taking one final look back at George. With a heavy heart, she turned back and stepped over Mariette’s body. Through salty-teared eyes, her vision was momentarily blurred and walking past Otto, she hadn’t seen that he had shifted. A click sounded behind her and then a hand grabbed her ankle.

  In a low-tone voice, Otto spoke out. “You had better stop walking, or I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

  Alice stopped dead. Fearing that she was about to be shot, her widening eyes moved to their left, as she tried to look over her shoulder through the fake glasses that she’d been wearing. She turned her head a little, to accommodate her sight. Faced with the barrel of a pistol pointing up at her, she trembled with fear.

  “That’s right, you should be scared,” he mocked.

  Remembering that her glasses had a blade in the arm, keeping the right-side of her body blocked from his vision, she gradually raised her hand, keeping the movement to a minimum, so that he wouldn’t see what she was doing. She managed to raise her hand high enough to reach the tip of the arm. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Call your friends back inside the house, and tell them to drop their weapons, or I’ll shoot you.”

  Alice sighed. “I can’t do that.”

  “You are either very intelligent, or an extremely stupid girl.”

  She whipped the glasses from her face and quickly pushed the tip in the arm, to release the blade. Before he was able to take his shot, she stabbed his hand, then, in an act of insanity, she challenged all of her anger out on him, stabbing him consistently in his arm, followed by several stabs to his neck. She didn’t care where the blade entered him, she just wanted him dead. He tried to fight her off, but already weak from his first wound, he found it impossible to overcome her. Alice screamed out, as she gave the fatal stab into his eye. “This is for George!”

  Turning back after hearing Alice scream, Vera ran inside the house, to find her straddled across Otto’s dead body, pounding her fists into his chest.

  “Die, you pig, die,” Alice whimpered as she continued to pound him.

  “Alice, he’s dead,” Vera softly assured her. “Please, Alice, we must leave, now.” She placed her hands beneath Alice’s armpits and lifted her up. Embracing her, she said, “I’m sorry that we ran out ahead of you. I would never have left you behind like this. We were too wrapped up in planning our escape route. Now let’s leave, before the others come.”

  They left the house, joining the others at the end of the street.

  Chapter Ten

  As the evening dusk turned into darkness and the temperature lowered, Alice forced herself to keep up with the others. This had been her first real kill and she wasn’t about to rejoice that fact anytime soon.

  They had been walking for hours, heading south, towards Benifontaine, a safer territory, and needed to find shelter for the night—to hide out until the early signs of daylight appeared. Traipsing over mosses and ferns through a densely wooded area, they reached a clearing at Rue Calmette. The tree branches above them, overlapped the grassy garden borders, shading them like a large canopy. Climbing over the grey-stone wall, each of them crouched as they prowled, hidden in the darkness. Reaching the third house along, their attention was drawn to a line of washing, hanging still but positioned to display a message. They were friendly to the allies and this was their way of informing anyone who could read the message: SAFE

  Sergeant Webb drew his pistol. “We had better be on our guard.” He removed the rifles from his shoulder and handed one each to John and Reggie. Vera and Alice followed closely behind them, keeping a look out for any potential danger that might sneak up behind them.

  Venturing closer to the house, they checked the ground floor rooms by peering into each lower window. Seeing no signs of any occupants, they crept towards the back door. Vera pressed the latch down and pushed the door inwards, gradually opening it as quietly as she could—each person entered the house cautiously, fully aware that this could possibly be a trap.

  Searching all of the rooms downstairs, they silently made their way upstairs to the bedrooms. Sergeant Webb and Gordon led the way, carefully opening each bedroom door and stepping inside to search, while the others remained on the landing, keeping a watchful eye.

  All rooms were clear of any persons.

  Satisfied that they were the only ones in the house, Sergeant Webb instructed everyone to go downstairs into the kitchen, to see if there was any food still edible. Everyone, apart from Alice, went downstairs.

  Vera held back half-way down. She held on to the bannister and looked back at Alice. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, her forehead frowning with genuine concern.

  Alice clasped her hands together, rubbing the palms nervously. Filled with shame, she whipped her gaze to the floor. “Yes,” she muttered. “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll join you shortly.”

  “Okay.” Vera replied. She turned and took another step down, stopping suddenly to glance back over her shoulder. “Alice!” she said quickly.

  Alice, bravely trying to stay calm, turned the doorknob—holding the door slightly ajar. Her eyes widened, as she forced her tears back. “Yes?” she answered weakly.

  “If it wasn’t for your bravery, well, well I want to let you know that we might not all be here now.”

  Without looking at her, Alice entered the bathroom and closed the door softly behind her. Grabbing hold of the edge of the sink, she stopped herself from collapsing. Her skin felt as though it was crawling all over her body, her muscles tensed up, causing her to stand rigid and then disorientation set in. Her vision blurred and feeling as though she was going to be sick, she gripped the sink harder, trying to catch her breath. “Vera!” she screamed, just before her legs gave way.

  •••

  Opening her eyes, Alice found herself in a strange bed. She focused on the ceiling filled with many cracks and in great need of painting and repair. Turning her head, she immediately scanned the room. It was that of a young girl’s, with yellow flower-print curtains and white-washed walls.

  “You’ve slept for eight hours,” Vera, sitting on a chair on the other side of the bed, informed her.
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br />   “Vera!”

  Taking hold of Alice’s hand, Vera stood up and bent over her, kissing her on her forehead. “Yes, I’ve been here all night. I wasn’t about to let you out of my sight.”

  “I’m sorry that I worried you.”

  Vera shook her head, smiling, as she stroked the side of Alice’s face. “Dawn is breaking. We’re going to need to leave this house shortly. Do you think that you’ll be able to continue?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s go downstairs. We found some tins of ham and peaches. I know that sounds like a terrible breakfast but beggars can’t be choosers.”

  Alice sat up and swung her legs out of the side of the bed. She stood up, still feeling a little weak. Slipping on her shoes, she peeked through the curtains, to see the morning sun rise. She was more than happy to see the orangey-yellow hues in the sky. Looking down, she sighted a young girl opening the gate in front of the house. “Vera, there’s a young girl approaching the house.”

  Vera joined her at the window and looked down at the young girl. “We can’t be found, she might scream, or report our being here to the Germans.” She stepped back and then hurried down the stairs, to inform the others that they were about to be compromised.

  Sergeant Webb stood at the window, standing to the side, so she wouldn’t see him. The young girl didn’t approach the front door, instead, she made her way to a clay plant pot beneath the window. She turned it over and retrieved a piece of paper. Stuffing it into her coat pocket she then pulled out a folded piece of paper from her other pocket and placed it inside the plant pot, putting it back into the same spot she had picked it up from. Standing up, she caught sight of Sergeant Webb, hiding away from her. Her reaction surprised him. Instead of screaming, she smiled at him and waved. In order to not scare her, he waved back. The girl giggled and then walked over to the front door. Opening it, she casually walked inside.

  “Bonjour,” she said sweetly.