Timeless

Chapter 33

It happened in the middle of the night, close to when lights out was usually called. Kathryn had been sitting in her bunk, re-stitching the sole of her boot, which was ever-just too big for her. It wasn't even technically her shoe—she had taken it off of one of the dead when she was making her way to the Allies.

The shoes hadn't been in the best condition when she stole them initially and they certainly weren't doing their best now. But as the door to their cabin swung open, Kathryn knew immediately what was to take place.

"They've given us thirty minutes to be at the front gate. 2300 hours, then we march. They won't say how far or for how long," With those words, the soldier disappeared down the hall to quickly tell the others.

"Thirty minutes—" Buck let out a curse and jumped down from the top bunk. "Thirty minutes, let's go! Wear the warmest clothes that you've got!"

Kathryn immediately shoved her shoes back on her feet and began bundling up. If she felt like a penguin before, she certainly felt like one right now; a sweater, stolen from one of the men when she had been sick, a coat, a scarf around her neck, and a small pair of gloves that her brother had managed to find for her.

And then there was the fact that she had slipped a scalpel into her sleeve. Kathryn had no intention of ever letting anyone lay hands on her again. If this was going to be some sort of march to their deaths, she was not going to go down without a fight. She had determined that she would rather fight her way out of a situation than lay down and die.

What was it that Tennyson had said? Do not go gentle into that good night .

Well it was neither a good night or gentle, and Kathryn had no qualms about stabbing her way out of a situation yet again. Not that her brother or Buck needed to know that particular information.

"Where do you think we're going?" Bucky questioned, glancing over at Buck.

"I don't know. The Allies must be close," Buck said, a glimmer of hope in his tone.

Bucky just gave a pointed look to Kathryn. "You stick close."

"That's the plan," Kathryn retorted, giving her brother a mock-salute.

It was frigid as the group made their way outside—and outside was pure and sheer pandemonium. Everywhere she looked, Kathryn saw men trying to pack and take more than they could handle. Kathryn had nothing to carry, save it be her own two legs. She could walk for however long she needed to. She had to.

Everywhere she looked, men were scarfing down food and it made her nearly nauseous at the sight. It was loud and noisy as the dogs barked and men were yelled at to fall into line. Her gaze had fallen on the Nazi's, burning down all of the cabins where they had been staying. They didn't want to leave anything for the Russians or the other Allies to find.

She stood close to her brother, eyes watching the snowfall and the darkness beyond the camp. "This is bullshit," she mumbled.

"Tell me about it," Bucky retorted.

Buck came to stand next to the two Egan siblings. "How are you doing?" He questioned, glancing over at Bucky.

"Would have preferred it if the Russians made it here first."

Buck readjusted his own scarf over his ears, then turned and adjusted Kathryn's scarf as well. "You're not thinking of running, are you?" He questioned, gaze still locked onto Bucky.

"You're not thinking of running, are you?" Bucky retorted.

"I've got a scalpel," Kathryn offered.

At that, Buck's hands on her scarf froze and he looked at her in surprise. "How did you—"