Ashes to Burn (Work In Progress)

Ashes to Burn - Chapter Nineteen

***This story is intended for mature audiences, as it contains graphic violence, gore, coarse language and some sexual content. Viewer discretion is strongly advised. 

December 22nd, 2015

02:40 hours

Nazi Concentration Camp, Dnieper River

“Sarge?” I breathed out, touching her face. Sarge blinked open her eyes slightly to look at me. She swallowed hard and slow, her breath catching.

“I’m… fine…” She choked out, coughing. I laid down on the cold floor and wrapped my hands around her, drawing her into me. I closed my eyes and rubbed her injured shoulder. Blood smeared across my hands and clung to my fingers. I opened my eyes and looked at John, who had a grim frown on his face. He stepped forward, taking off his jacket. He wrapped it around a festering wound in Sarge’s side. He then helped me get her to sit up against the metal wall. Sarge sat with her eyes closed, panting.

“I loved her…” She trailed off, as sleep succumbed her to darkness. I felt a hot tear drip down my face as she shut her eyes. I looked over at John, who’s eyes were clouded with worry. I stood up and looked at the handprint on the jail cell bars.

“She’s psychotic. She’s lost her mind.” I heard Damien say. I turned to face him.

“She’s more than that. She’s a murderer. She killed that boy!” I snarled, pointing my finger in the direction of the sobbing woman. She was now cradling her remaining child, a baby girl wrapped in a thin, dusty pink rag. 

“She was right though,” Damien said softly. I whipped around to face him angrily.

“Right?!”

“That’s exactly what Bauer did. He was worse than them. He actually murdered people right before their own eyes. Children, infants, adults; anyone. He killed them like it was a joke. Like they were just pawns upon his chessboard.” He mumbled, looking back at Sarge. I stood silently, absorbing everything that he was saying. 

“It’s not true. Tell me it’s not true.” I cried, crumpling to the ground. Suddenly I heard the woman’s voice sound from behind me.

“He’s not lying. Neither was that woman.” She sobbed quietly. Her voice was strained with the tears shed for her dead children. I sat on one of the bunk beds with my head in my hands, shaking my leg.

“What’s wrong with the world?” I asked, to no one in particular. I felt the bed crunch as John sat next to me.

“We’ve all been asking that question since the dawn of time.”

It’s been six hours since Sarge fell asleep. Her vitals are somewhat strong, but she needed medical attention, and fast. John and I were running out of ways to help her and to stop the bleeding. The wound was starting to form pus around the opening and her breathing was growing weaker by the hour.

“We have to get her fever down.” I murmured to John as I undid the first two buttons on Sarge’s shirt. She mumbled a groan and shifted a little. I leaned back a bit and sighed. Her uniform rank of blood and sweat. Her eyes were sunk in and her face was covered in black and blue blotches. 

“Sarge… I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. I shouldn’t tried to do this. It’s all my fault.” I cried, cradling my head in my hands. Damien put a hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. If anything, it’s just human reactions. We see something we don’t like, and our reaction is to either shoot it, or take away what it needs the most to survive. It’s in our blood to kill.” He said, sighing. I glared at him.