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IT WAS DARKER THAN BEFORE, QUIETER.
They made their way down an alleyway, quietly as they could. Ahead of them, a door flew open, warm light spilling out onto the street. Out stumbled a German soldier, obviously drunk.
The soldier stumbled a few steps before leaning over and vomiting. Genevieve and Schofield ducked into the darkness of a doorway and into the building as the man continued to vomit.
The building, or what was left of it anyway, was an old school house. The small school assembly hall and a couple of other rooms had been blown together into one large space. There were metal beams where there once was a roof and a few school desks, tipped onto their sides. To one side of the room, wide arched windows let in shafts of light from the burning church outside. They streaked across the inky darkness.
Genevieve and Schofield stayed still in the shadows, silently scanning the darkness, listening to the pathetic moans of the soldier outside. Genevieve looked around for another way out, one where they wouldn't be seen. She felt Schofield suddenly tense up next to her and she turned to see what had happened.
A german soldier stood there staring at them, mouth agape. He was young, and Genevieve almost felt as for him. Much too young to know the horrors of war.
He stood barely three feet away from them. He opened his mouth to scream and Schofield leapt. He put a hand over the soldier's mouth and pushed him hard up against a pillar. Genevieve raised her eyebrows, impressed.
They struggled for a bit until the German soldier calmed down. He was terrified. Schofield held a finger to his lips and the soldier nodded. Schofield slowly dropped his hand from the soldier's mouth.
"Engländers!" The soldier shouted.
(English!)
"Oh for fucks sake!"
Genevieve reacted this time, grabbing the soldier by the throat with one hand while the other put him in a headlock. She squeezed hard enough that he could breathe but couldn't speak. He struggled beneath her as Schofield stared in shock.
"How did you do that so fast?" He asked.
"Hand to hand combat was always my forte." She whispered. "I've got kind of a shit aim but-"
The soldier threw his head back into Genevieve's, hitting her in the chin, causing her to stumble back and let go. She shouldn't have gotten distracted. She was a bit dazed, but furious. Not as furious as Schofield was though.
He tackled the soldier, gagging him as they both fell onto the hard ground. The two rolled on the ground as if they were feral creatures. Genevieve moved to help when she saw a shadow at the far end of the room.
"Mein Gott Baumer..." The voice said. The drunk soldier from before had come back. "Das warein Fehler. Wir sollten heute Abend zurück gehen. Vielleicht hat niemand gemerkt, dass wir weg waren."
(Christ Baumer... This was a mistake. We should go back tonight, maybe no one will notice we've gone.)
Genevieve slowly made her way towards him, pistol at the ready. She watched as he staggered his way over to a spot by the fire and begin to rummage among the empty bottles.
She glanced back to see Schofield and the young soldier, Baumer, still struggling. Schofield was on top of him now, chocking him. Genevieve felt bad for Schofield. Killing someone like that was never easy.
"Wo ist der Brandy?" The drunk soldier asked, oblivious. "Du kleiner Scheisser.. wehe du bist damit fort gelaufen."
(Where's the brandy? You little shit, you better not have run off with it.)
He finally turned just in time to look down the barrel of Genevieve's pistol.
"Hi." Genevieve said.
The drunk soldier stupidly batted the pistol away the same time Genevieve shot. The bullet hit the wall behind them. With a roar, he lurched forward and tried to grab her. A gun would do nothing at this close range.
Instead, she quickly dropped everything and jumped onto the much larger man. She maneuvered herself onto his shoulders. She wrapped her legs around his throat tightly, strangling him.
He grabbed at her legs, trying to get her off. She punched his face repeatedly as she continued to strangle him with her legs. He was turning purple.
The soldier stumbled and threw his back against the wall in an attempt to get her off. But it only caused him to lose his balance and fall over. Genevieve gracefully rolled and landed on one knee next to her pistol. She grabbed it as the solider raised his head to look for her.
With one shot, he was dead.
Genevieve lowered her pistol and looked up, breathing heavily. The younger soldier was dead in the corner. Schofield stood a few feet away, eyes locked on her.
He almost looked scared of her.
Genevieve opened her mouth to say something to him when they heard shouting coming towards them. They shared a look before turning and running out the door. there was no time to gather their things. This was life or death. But Genevieve still had her pistol. She they ran, she checked the bullets. There were three left.
They turned a corner and fifty yards in front them was another German Soldier. The soldier broke into a run, reaching for his rifle. Genevieve shot once as they ran the other way, hitting him in the shoulder.
Schofield grabbed her free hand and pulled them both behind a wall, eyes darting up and down wildly looking for some escape. There were more gunshots and yelling in the distance. Genevieve could tell that they were getting closer. She peeked out from behind the wall to see a bunch of soldiers running and yelling.
Schofield was breathing so hard that he sounded like he was hyperventilating. Genevieve let go of his hand and grabbed his face to look at her.
"Breathe." She said.
It came out shakily, not as demanding as she wanted it to. He squinted at her.
"You breathe." He replied. "Listen, back there, that was-"
"That was my job."She shook her head. "I'm sorry you had to see it. I'm sorry you had to do-"
"It's fine." He looked ahead of her, eyeing a narrow alleyway. "We have to move."
They ran into the alley, shots bursting on the walls around them. Flares kept going off in the sky, sending scary shadows over them as they ran. Genevieve's heart was pounding and her legs were burning but she couldn't stop.
Ahead of them was a bridge. Another broken one, this one made of stone. Could they cross it like they did the other one? Schofield seemed to have the same idea she had because he ran in the same direction.
They could hear shouting and more gunshots behind them. As the got closer to the bridge, they say that there was absolutely no way to climb across it.
"We have to jump!" He shouted at her as they neared the edge.
"FUCK!" Was all she could say.
Schofield reached the edge first and took a running leap. Genevieve followed behind him. The split second before she dove off the edge, a bullet grazed her left shoulder. She screamed in pain as she fell down and into the freezing water below with a splash.
