The Darkest Hour

by Roberta Kagan

“We can’t let the Germans capture this woman. She was already in their grasp and they didn’t know who she was then…You need to listen to me.”

  “I’m going to, but how do we know that the Germans won’t be waiting for us when we get out?”

  “You don’t know, but there’s no reason they should be there.”

  “That’s reassuring,” I replied sarcastically.

  Ellie smiled and took off her gold chain with her wedding band that hung around her neck. She put it in my hand. “I’ll come over to the farm, and you can give this back to me.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise. Now get going.”

  She was lying to me. We both knew she was lying because they were going to stay behind and battle the Germans and Italians. I hugged her and held on for longer than I should have. I didn’t want to leave her. My heart was screaming at me to stay, but I had to go.

  We rounded the women and children and headed further into the caves. I stopped before joining them and looked back. There was my cousin, my sister, my best friend. The fierce warrior. She smiled at me and pointed for me to follow.

  Did the Spartans cry as they left King Leonidas to face the mighty Persians with just three hundred men? I doubt they wept for their king because they were mighty warriors. I was not a warrior. I was a thirteen-year-old girl, and I was leaving Ellie to face demonic forces. Bitter, angry tears rolled down my cheeks as I ran to catch up.

  I hate God. I hate him with all my heart.

  Chapter 17

  April 18, 1942

  I like Spring. I love the flowers and the warmth it brings, but not this year. Two nights ago was the anniversary of my father’s death and of the invasion. One year of so much death and misery. We lost Ellie and Uncle Petros; the Germans and Italians murdered them. Why did she have to emulate King Leonidas?

  After we left the caves with our ‘precious cargo,’ as Ellie liked to call them, we didn’t meet any Germans on the other side. We offloaded our cargo, and we went home. We didn’t go back to rescue our comrades. I was overruled by Apostolos and Stavros. They were ordered not to come back. In a way, I don’t blame Ellie for the choice she made; she died heroically and is now with her beloved Angelos. I’ve never had a love that consumes my mind and heart like Ellie had for Angelos. What does that feel like? It must be so powerful that you think of nothing else. My parents had the same kind of love, and the only thing stopping my mother from doing what Ellie had done was me.

  I rode my bicycle down the road leading to the grove. The Italians are in an uproar because their Commander Basta has been killed by the Resistance. I have to hide my joy because, as Mama says, I shouldn’t like it when someone dies but, in this case, I am overjoyed. Michael’s house is directly opposite the house Basta chose to base himself. Ellie’s original mission for me was to watch troop movements. She had been right that I was perfect for this job. I watched them and their routines, and I even managed to get into the house on the pretext of delivering some potatoes that Kiria Despina, Basta’s housekeeper, needed.

  I memorized the entire house when I followed her around as she did the cleaning. I was a harmless child doing some chores. They were oblivious to the danger of what I was doing in that house.

  I laughed as I passed an Italian patrol. I gave them a wide berth. I had a few things to do today, and they all involved visiting the cemetery and then Athena’s Bluff. Mama and I were going to stay up there tonight because she didn’t want to be at the farm without my father on his birthday. Today Papa would have turned fifty years old.

  I got off my bicycle and opened the gate. I leaned the bike against the gnarly tree and entered. My father’s grave had weeds growing around it. I had been so consumed by my Resistance activities that I hadn’t removed the plants. I picked them out and took out my drawing of Mama and myself. The overwhelming sadness I had been keeping at bay from this morning washed over me, and I wanted to cry. I knelt beside the grave and buried the artwork.

  “Happy birthday, Papa. I wish you were here. So much has happened. I’m sure Ellie and Uncle Petros would have told you by now…” I couldn’t continue because the tears rolled down my face and all I could do was cry. I lay down on top of my father’s grave and wept bitterly.

  I wiped my eyes and kissed the headstone before I moved away, because I couldn’t stay the night like I wanted to. My mama needed me. I approached Ellie’s grave, and I took out the ring that she had given me. We both knew she was giving up her life to save another when she gave the ring.

  What did Father H say when we brought our heroes back? ‘Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends.’ And that is what my beloved father, uncle, and my cousin had done—they died saving others. Can I live up to that heroism?

  Father H conducted the funeral, and I’m not sure what it means for a Jewish person to be buried as a Christian, but I’m sure her God would understand. We had a Jewish family stay in our cellar for a few days. Sara was my age, and I asked her how Jewish people were buried and how they mourned their dead. I wanted to know all about the Jews and why this was happening to them and Sara was willing to answer my questions. Soon after Ellie was buried, I came out to the grove and sat Shiva for her for seven days just as Sara told me. I celebrated Ellie’s life, and I lit a small candle I had, but I couldn’t leave it lit as Sara said it had to be done. I tried the best I could, and I think Ellie would have liked that.

  I knelt and buried the ring in her grave. I pulled the sack I had with me and removed Artemis. My crossbow was in pieces. I had disassembled it and tied it with some rope. I kissed it before I dug into the topsoil and buried it. I had a new weapon now—Ellie’s gun.

  I sat down next to the grave and looked up into the trees. “It’s Spring. I can’t believe it’s been a year since the invasion. I have some good news, Ellie. First, I have to tell you that you were right. My mission to monitor troops was perfect for me. I want to help our allies and save as many Jews as I can, and I’m best used when I’m spying on the Italians.” I looked around me as a slight breeze picked up, and the warmth touched my face. “You were also right about the Germans. I see more of them in Larissa than there used to be. It might have something to do with Basta being blown up.”

  I hoped I was genuinely alone because talking about Basta’s death was something that could quickly get me killed if it was overhead.

  “Mama says that killing Basta will only result in another monster being put in charge. He was a vicious beast. I wonder who they will send next. It doesn’t matter. We will kill him too. They can send as many monsters as they like; we will kill them all.”

  I glanced at my watch and sighed. I couldn’t stay for very long because of the curfew, and the last thing I wanted on my father’s birthday was to tangle with a patrol. I got up off the ground and dusted the soil from my pants. I glanced at the sack that lay next to my feet and smiled.

  “Before I go, I want to tell you what happened two nights ago. Stavros and Apostolos raided a convoy. Stavros is worried about me, and he tries not to get me involved, which is annoying. I was in the same battle he was at Lamia, but he still doesn’t want me to go with him. It doesn’t matter what Stavros wants. They brought back a crate of dynamite. That’s when I had an idea.”

  I giggled at the ingenious plan I had concocted because it fulfilled a promise I had made to Ellie. I always keep my word. “Yesterday, I went to the traitor’s grave. Yes, I know what you’re going to say, but a promise is a promise. I took four sticks of dynamite and placed them in his grave. I lit the dynamite and went as far away as I could. It was a sight, Ellie! Kaboom! Dirt and body parts flew everywhere!” I laughed and felt silly at clapping my hands at my own plan, but it didn’t matter.

  “The Italians came running because it wasn’t far from one of their bases. They all appeared to be a little perplexed about why someone would bomb a grave. I laughed myself silly watching the fools. After they left, I went back and found the head. That’s what I have
in the sack. I told you that I was going to take that fat bastard up the mountain and burn him. A promise is a promise.”

  With a heavy sigh, I picked up the sack and flung it over my shoulder. I rode my bicycle as quickly as I could because the sun was setting and the curfew would begin soon.

  I got off the bike and walked up the path leading to Athena’s Bluff. It had been cleared of booby traps, and there was no chance of rabbits exploding accidentally. For a moment, I stood there and remembered that night. Memories. It was a useful tool against the Italians, but a curse when I lose the people I love.

  “Zoe! I was getting worried you wouldn’t get here in time!”

  Mama came out of the cabin and put her arms around me. “Did you bury your drawing?”

  “I did.”

  Mama tilted my head up and gazed at me. “You’ve been crying.”

  “I miss Papa.”

  “I know.” Mama held me for a long moment. “I made some rabbit stew.”

  I looked up at her in surprise. “You killed a rabbit?”

  “Stavros killed it.” Mama laughed. “What’s in the sack?”

  “You won’t like…” Mama reached out and took hold of the sack. I suspect she thought it was vegetables. The look on her face when she saw what was in it almost made me want to laugh. I tried hard not to smile. I failed.

  “Zoe Lambros! My dear God, child, what have you done?”

  “I’ve fulfilled a promise I made to Ellie. I told her I was going to carry this fat bast…er…fat pig up the mountain and throw him off Athena’s Bluff for betraying Angelos.”

  Mama turned away and headed back inside the cabin. “I don’t want to know how you managed to get that head.”

  “It was easy; I—”

  “I don’t want to know.”

  I smiled. Mama had a soft heart, and she wouldn’t want to know what I was going to do. I created a fire pit and brought out the head of the traitor. It had seen better days. At least now he wasn’t fat. The ugly face of a traitorous pig. I spat at it and then lit the fire.

  Unfortunately, the fire wasn’t that hot, so it would turn to ashes. I took away the fire pit and lined up the head like a footballer about to shoot for goal. I looked up to find Stavros watching me from the doorway.

  I smiled, went back a few yards and came in for a goal. My foot hit the skull and sent it flying, and it hit the edge of the lookout, and down the mountain it went. I went over to the lookout and watched its descent.

  The last rays of the sun kissed the top of Mount Ossa as I gazed out into the valley. One year of occupation had gone. So much death and misery. I started to sing the Hymn of Liberty softly.

  We knew thee of old,

  Oh, divinely restored,

  By the light of thine eyes

  And the light of thy Sword.

  From the graves of our slain

  Shall thy valor prevail

  As we greet thee again — Hail, Liberty! Hail!

  Long time didst thou dwell

  Mid the peoples that mourn,

  Awaiting some voice

  That should bid thee return.

  Ah, slow broke that day

  And no man dared call,

  For the shadow of tyranny

  Lay over all:

  And we saw thee sad-eyed,

  The tears on thy cheeks

  While thy raiment was dyed

  In the blood of the Greeks.

  Stavros joined me. He put his arm around my shoulders, and we both sang the last verses as the sun disappeared and the darkness enveloped the valley.

  Yet, behold now thy sons

  With impetuous breath

  Go forth to the fight

  Seeking Freedom or Death.

  From the graves of our slain

  Shall thy valour prevail

  As we greet thee again — Hail, Liberty! Hail!

  I silently vowed to continue to help the people my father, my uncle, and my cousin had died for. Helping our Allies and our Jewish friends was my mission. I am going to continue to fight for them until my last breath.

  * * *

  The End

  Read more about Zoe Lambros in the novel “In The Blood of the Greeks”

  Find out more about the book here:

  https://nextchapter.net/novels/book1-in-the-blood-of-the-greeks/

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  About the Author

  A geek with too many imaginary friends who speak different languages (knew those language classes would come in handy). Historical romance and urban fantasy storyteller and addicted to stories and song about strength and courage. I play well with others (for an introvert) but then retreat to talk and write about my imaginary friends. Passionate about lots of things that inspire the mind (art/design, psychology, science and tech) that sets my muse on fire (she’s a busy lady!).

  * * *

  Read More from Mary D. Brooks

  The Next Chapter: http://www.nextchapter.net

  The Occupation by Deborah Swift

  Synopsis

  THE OCCUPATION

  One woman’s secret war against the Nazis.

  * * *

  When Nazi forces occupy Jersey, in the English Channel Islands, Céline Huber, who is married to a German, must decide where her loyalty lies. Love for her island, and fear for her Jewish friend Rachel, soon propel her into a dangerous double life.

  Chapter 1

  Jersey, The Channel Islands

  August 1939

  The sun seared down over the Blue Terrace as I made my way out of the changing cabin, hopping in a crazy dance so as not to burn my feet on the hot concrete. On the other side of the pool, I could just make out the red of Rachel’s rubber swimming cap amongst the rest of the swimmers. I squinted into the sun; being short-sighted, it was hard to see anything at a distance without my glasses, but Rachel’s brown arm was waving at me, beckoning me in. I waded out, gasping as the cold water hit my ribs. Flipping freezing. I doggy-paddled from side to side, trying not to go out of my depth. I hoped I looked a better swimmer than I felt.

  Rachel’s red cap motored towards me, her arms scything through the water. She disappeared for a moment, then popped up too close, shaking droplets off her face and splashing me with armfuls of cold water.

  ‘Beast!’ I shouted, splashing back.

  ‘Glorious!’ she said breathlessly, before turning on her back. ‘I’m going up on the diving board. Coming?’

  She didn’t wait for an answer, because she knew I’d be shaking my head. I swam up and down a little more, with my head safely above water, then clambered out and towelled myself dry. Once I’d flopped into my deck chair, I covered myself over – I didn’t want my white legs to end up the colour of a lobster from all this sun. After fishing in my bag for my glasses and book, I was just in time to see Rachel bounce at the end of the board and upend herself into a perfect line. She slid into the water with hardly a ripple. It gave me a pang to watch her. She was so fearless. How did she dare?

  Fred would have had a go, even though he was no athlete. I thought of my husband with affection. He never took a day off from the bakery, though he never minded when I did. I was lucky to have him. Rachel was still single and her parents lived in France, and it must have been lonely to go home every night to an empty house.

  I once asked her if she was worried about being ‘on the shelf’, and she threw back her head and guffawed. ‘No, I like the space and the freedom of my own apartment. I’d hate to be cooped up with just one person. I shan’t marry until I’m about forty.’

  ‘Forty!’ I rolled my eyes. ‘We could both be dead by then!’

  But now, every time she cast her eye on any young man, I’d just whisper ‘forty’ at her, and we’d convulse laughing.

  She was swimming back towards me now,
doing the butterfly stroke, which involved a lot of splashing and everyone clearing out of her way. She hauled herself out and then shook her dark curly hair free of its cap, before throwing out a candy-striped towel on the concrete beside me. She stretched herself onto it, face down.

  After a few moments, she turned her head lazily towards me. ‘I could lie here forever,’ she said.

  ‘Mmm. Aren’t we lucky, Rache? All these holidaymakers have to go home, and here we are, on our own little bit of island paradise.’

  ‘Hmm.’ She propped herself on one elbow. ‘I wouldn’t mind a bit more life though. Nothing ever happens here, does it? When the holidaymakers leave, we’re just left with the same old farmers and fishermen, and old women knitting pullovers. It’s so dull.’

  ‘You could go back to France.’

  ‘My parents would be horrified. They think my job in the bank is the best thing I could have done. My mother says the bank might make me more responsible.’

  ‘Fat chance!’

  ‘Good thing I’ve got you to keep an eye on me then, isn’t it? They approve of you, you know. They call you “that nice sensible girl”.’

  Oh help. I knew it was supposed to be a compliment, but I wished they didn’t think of me as quite so staid. Next to Rachel I felt so colourless; it was as if the daredevil in me was somehow submerged whenever I was with her.

  Chapter 2

  May 1940

  At the sharp ting-a-ling of the bakery door, I turned down the wireless, which was always on now so we could keep track of the war between England and Germany, and looked up to see who the customer was.