𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; band of brothers ✔

PART TWENTY TWO

"Keep it together, Shift." I said.

He began to say something more, only to be cut off as a loud shot cracked through the air. Tokarzewski collapsed onto the floor; a catalyst for the firing of bullets that resumed. A pang hurled from my shoulder, unnoticable as adrenaline burst into my veins.

"Jesus Christ!" I screeched, dropping to the floor.

I fired a few shots into the direction of the sound, unable to see through the chilling atmosphere. More flew our way, skimming our heads.

"See 'em Shift?!" I shouted.

"I can't see shit!"

I glimpsed to my right, blood pouring out of one soldier as another tried to patch him up. When my view returned, a whistle dispatched into the air, launched blindly. Intuitively, I threw my body over Shifty's, pulling us both into the ground in hopes to avoid the mortar.

The road before us exploded, propelling gravel and dirt into the air. A burst of rounds followed it, as if knowing the shell hadn't worked. I rolled over, a hand on my helmet as I searched for Eugene and Tokarzewski. The medic had hooked his arms around the casualty, attempting to drag him away from the shed, aware it was an evident target.

"Shift, I'll cover you, go help Doc!"

He nodded, sucking in a few breaths before whipping around and dashing it to the medic. I positioned myself onto the bank of the destroyed road, once again shooting into complete nothingness. Another whistle divided the air; I scarpered further down the bank, assuming the shell would land more accurately than the first time. It did. Several more followed.

I clung onto my rifle, soil piling onto me as I lay against the ground, three figures becoming one with the landscape as they retreated. The beat in my chest quickened, only now realising how completely alone I was.

I tossed over onto my stomach, crawling along the snow until I rolled down a natural dip in the ground. It led to an agricultural pipe, a giant black hole of rubber that provided a pass beneath the road, then leading into more fields. With the bombardment nearing, I dashed for it, rifle clutched to my chest. The second it stopped, I peered my head around the corner of the pipe, no-one in sight. Sitting back, I cocked open my rifle, four rounds left in the magazine. I began to return to the direction I had come from.

CH-CHKT.

My ears perked.

"Stay fucking still."

Slowly, my head pivoted, a German soldier stood near the road, rifle aimed at the centre of my skull.

"Drop the rifle!" He ordered, repeating it another two or three times under the assumption that I didn't understand German.

I rolled my eyes. After I placed it on the ground, I stood up, hands raised.

"Move!"

"Are you just going to point it at me or fucking use it four eyes?" I retorted.

He recoiled his rifle, ready to slam the butt against my cheekbone. I ducked and, almost intuitively, planted my knuckles into his nose, once more into his chin. I grabbed his rifle, smashing it against his head until blood plagued the snow. Nearly tasting the adrenaline, I whipped around, only for something to knock me into unconsciousness.

My head lolled, a sharp pain dispersing from the back of my skull and trailing to my toes. I sucked on my tongue, mouth craving water. Blinking a couple times, I tried to rub my eyelids. An even more agonizing pain shot from my right armpit.

I had been thrown into a cell of some kind, the walls made of an untreated stone, the ground just as cold and gray. Patches of old blood infested the floor, a small light flickered from the centre of the ceiling. Everything, barring my clothes and boots, had been taken away.

I inspected my shoulder, the fabric soaked by red ooze.

"What the hell?" I muttered, frowing, unsure of when I received the wound.

I dug my hands into my pocket, gladdened to feel the piece of metal hadn't moved.

I brushed my hair away from my forehead.

I staggered upright.

When footsteps neared, I threw my feet at the door, cursing every swear word I knew in German.

"Fucking Nazi fucks, I'm going to fucking kill you, you hear me?!" I screeched, voices falling further away, muttering: "Fucking cowards."

Out of energy, I stomped to the back wall, leaning my forehead against the stone.

"This is not how I'm going to fucking die." I said, examining the floor.

Something outside cranked, like a hand touching the bolt of the door. I flung around, fist ready to break bones if need be.

But it wasn't a soldier.

It was her.

There, she stood, arms wrapped over her naked breasts, face swollen and covered in blood and tears and bruises.

No. It can't be.

My heart sunk, overpowering any anger.

"F-Frances?" I choked on the words.

Her frame slumped. She lurched forward, crashing into my torso, enveloping her arms around me. My armpit burned as it moved, yet none of it mattered. Her skin was soft and fresh against my rough hands, yet she didn't care. I squeezed her as tightly as I could, wanting nothing more than to rid her of every pain and anguish. Still, she cried and cried and cried.