Coraline Murphy

Prologue II

One of the final battles of WW1

Another bullet whizzed past Tommy's head, and he swore as he heard another solider behind him scream as it made impact. Like a machine, he kept up his movements, advancing towards the enemy line. Word was that this was it, they had almost done it. The war was almost over.

And for what?

Tommy suddenly stood still, the horrors of his surroundings continued, but were they in slow motion now? He gazed around him, taking in the slaughter that had prevailed. His men, his friends, lying on the ground. Dead. Or at the very least, wounded beyond repair, whether that be physically or mentally. There was nobody else standing, was there? Was he the last man alive? What the fuck had happened to Rory? She'd gone over before him, sparing him one last hopeful look. He'd not had the chance to talk to her alone yet, not wanting to blow her cover.

"Sir!" The shout broke him out of his daze and he ducked instinctively as a bomb went off nearby, spraying dirt and debris over him and the small figure who was running over to him, covered in blood.

"Rory..." Tommy wasn't sure she had even heard him - his voice was barely a whisper, lost in the screams of men and cacophony of gun fire, dwarfed by the magnitude of relief he was feeling at seeing her alive.

She pulled Tommy towards a deep gully where an explosive had created some cover. They crouched in the pit, and Tommy felt the waves of adrenaline start to take over.

"Tommy, you're bleeding." Rory's voice saying his name for the first time seemed to act like a switch, suddenly opening the flow of pain the adrenaline had kept off.

"Ah shit," Tommy looked down at his arm where blood was spreading slowly through his dirty uniform. "Its probably just a graze," he said to Rory, hoping he sounded surer than he felt. It hurt like a bitch.

"We should get to the medical tent," Rory said, her face creased in concern as she saw Tommy bite his lip in pain. "I'm pretty sure the gunfire is dying down?" She added.

Sergeant Thomas Shelby nodded, grimly, and clasped his hand over the bullet wound. Rory tentatively took his other arm and hauled him to his feet, trying to steady him against her own body.

They struggled for what felt like an eternity, towards the trenches that now seemed like a haven, rather than the hell they'd been enduring for the past weeks.

"Get down!" The roar from another soldier 50 yards away made Tommy's head snap up from where he'd been concentrating on his footing. Again, everything went into slow motion, and he watched as the bullet headed towards him, heading straight to his heart. Before he could react, he saw Rory move to stand him front of him, and too his horror, felt the impact of the bullet embedding in her body as she was pushed back against him. They both tumbled over the edge of another trench, still 200 yards from the one they'd been aiming for. Bullets reigned over them as they tumbled into the deep trench, and Tommy winced as he hit the ground, the impact jolting his arm painfully.

He pushed himself up onto his arms, and crawled over to where Rory had landed, who was trying to get up to check on Tommy.

"Tommy, have you been hit any more?" Rory spoke before Tommy could.

"No, I haven't, just my bloody arm," Tommy grumbled, before noticing Rory starting to stumble.

"Hey, hey!" He rushed over to Rory as fast as he could whilst keeping his head well below the top of the trench. He grabbed her shoulders and tried to keep her standing. Tommy looked in horror as a large red stain started to spread over Rorys left shoulder and chest. Rory looked down, taking in the injury.