The Way Back Home

Chapter Five: No Time To Die

The sniper...

Emmanuelle pulled away from Schofield, grasping onto his forearms. "How are we going to go any further with that sniper shooting at us?"

Her question came out in a rushed whisper as she looked up to the sky, deciphering the time of day. Orange sunset rays scattered across the dipping horizon. Nighttime would soon be upon them...

A gunshot shattered the calm between them, cracking into the stonewall staircase nearby. Schofield moved as fast as a lightning strike, pushing the petite woman behind him, keeping her out of the sniper's vantage point however in vain his attempt was...

He turned his head toward her, his face stern and etched with determined concentration. "No matter what, you stay behind me."

She nodded, shivers of fear threatening to paralyze her. Her hands grasped onto his leather pack clinging onto his upper back, no doubt carrying food and supplies. Schofield was just as vulnerable to a bullet as she was, unless by chance it was a headshot where his helmet would protect him.

But, if he was to be shot and killed, who would deliver that message?

If anything, he had to survive above her...

Another shot rang through her ears as she pressed her hands to them, not accustomed to the sound as Schofield was. He stood up, firing his own rifle above the stone wall, up at where the shooter was positioned at the highest window in the lockhouse.

Against her better judgment, she kept her eyes on the lance corporal as he continued to fire at least three more shots, making certain that the sniper couldn't retaliate.

She noticed that in between the shots fired from his gun, Schofield would crouch down to catch his breath. She grasped onto his shoulder, feeling him tremble with what she could guess was adrenaline. His eyes briefly locked with hers at the feel of her touch, his hands clenching onto the gun as though it were his own personal lifeline.

Taking another breath as he turned away from Emmanuelle, he rose up above the wall and braced himself to take another shot. The sniper hadn't made another attempt to hit him yet. If they were to make it across the town safely, nothing could be left up to chance...

He fired his gun again, aiming with precise success at the window frame where he'd seen the shooter. No other shot responded...

Emmy's shaking arms enfolded around his waist as he turned back to her, one hand holding the rifle and the other upon her pale cheek.

"I think I got him. But I need to check." Schofield assured her of what had to be done before they could move further.

She only nodded, placing her own hand upon his, gently removing it from her face so he could focus on the task ahead of them. Her other arm released his waist to free both of her hands, her breath uneven not only from the shots ringing in her head but in preparation for what she was about to do.

Her small hands took hold of Schofield's face, her eyes looking straight into his as he froze, his hands still grasping onto his rifle. Being a head taller than her, he began to bend down toward her level, his gaze flitting to her lips, her tongue wetting them with what limited hydration remained in her body.

Emmanuelle placed her awaiting mouth to Schofield's brow, his helmet preventing her from completely kissing his forehead.

She pulled away, adjusting his helmet properly onto his head. He kept his eyes on her, unfamiliar warmth flowing through his entire being despite his soaked uniform. Schofield was unable to form the words consisting of the question he wanted to ask her. Nevertheless, she answered him.