CHAPTER SIX
GRACE STAGGERED BACK at the sight of the soldier. Her shoulders slammed into a jagged cave wall. Wincing in pain, her eyes locked on the armed man lumbering toward her.
He stopped, looked down at Jack, and kicked him in the ribs. “Against the wall! I should shoot you and this African dog, right here, right now.”
The soldier waved his gun at Jack, directing him to join them.
Miles glared at the soldier, as though he was about to rip the head off his shoulders.
But the soldier shoved his gun in his face.
“What are you looking at, Infekt?” He turned to Grace. “We all hoped it wasn’t true, but here you are, running with this African dog. Nevertheless, your father has chosen to forgive you, if you return with us.”
Miles stepped between them. “Why don’t you just go back to—”
The soldier slammed the butt of his rifle into Miles’s injured arm.
Miles cried out and fell against the wall. All around him the swarm of bats protested, chittering softly, as they shifted out of his way. It sent a chill down Grace’s spine.
“Oh, does that hurt?” The soldier laughed as his German shepherd snarled and snapped at Miles. “Platz, Egon.” He pulled on the dog’s chain.
Jack tried to climb to his feet. “Stinkin’ kraut!”
The soldier pointed his rifle at Jack. “You, on the other hand, are no better than this Infekt. And since no one is looking for you...” He slammed the muzzle rifle into Jack’s face, then took a few steps backward.
Grace let out a gasp.
“Now, young man,” the soldier said. “On your knees.”
Wiping the blood from his lip, Jack knelt.
But before he could utter a word, Miles leaned back and swept his arms across the cave wall. In an instant, a rush of screeches, the flapping of thousands of leathery wings, and a smothering dark mammalian cloud filled the air. Bats swarmed forth through the cave, overwhelming the guard and his dog.
Jack lunged at the soldier’s legs, knocking him to the ground.
The dog tore at Jack’s pant leg, but he managed to kick it away.
Jack pinned the soldier down.
They wrestled for the rifle.
Amidst the struggle, the gun slid over to Miles.
He snatched it up and staggered to his feet.
As myriad bats teemed about the cave’s mouth, the soldier’s dog turned its snarling fangs at Grace.
She couldn’t get a word out of her clenched throat.
The dog growled and snapped, then pounced on her.
She screamed, pushing against its neck to keep it away.
“Miles!”
Grace kept turning, then rolled to the ground, trying to avoid its putrid jaws.
It pinned her down on her back.
Her heart froze.
The dog’s dripping fangs and fierce eyes hung right above her.
With all her might, Grace swung her foot around, and kicked the dog in its side.
The dog stumbled away, snarled viciously.
The it coiled back, and leapt at her.
Crack!
A gunshot shredded the air.
It echoed through the cave, and into the woods.
The last bat flitted away.
Grace whimpered and pushed the dead dog off of her.
She backed away, trembling.
To her surprise, another gunshot rang out from Jack’s direction.
Fearing the worst, she turned to look.
Jack groaned. “Over here, you two.”
Over by the cave wall, Jack stood with a handgun—the soldier’s, apparently—aimed at his captor, now turned captive. The soldier sat with his back against the wall and his hands clasped over his head.
Miles went over and trained his rifle on the soldier.
Noticing that Jack was clutching the right side of his abdomen, Grace went over to him. “Are you all right?”
“Fritz here cut me. But I got his sidearm, shot him in the arm.”
Grace kicked the bloody knife beyond the soldier’s reach.
The soldier spat on the ground by Jack’s feet.
“I should kill you,” Jack scoffed and smirked at the soldier, “right here, right now.”
But Grace tore off the bottom part of her shirt to create a makeshift bandage.
“Grace, don’t!” Jack said.
She glared at him, then pulled a knot into the bandage, securing it tightly on the soldier’s arm. “Keep some pressure on it.”
“A bleeding heart,” the soldier sneered, “like your mother.”
Miles stepped over. “Why don’t you just leave him be, Grace?”
“I couldn’t just let him bleed out.”
“Doubt he’d show us the same courtesy.” Miles knelt down and picked up the bloodied knife.
She stepped behind Jack, who continued pointing the pistol at the soldier. “Well, in any case, he may have information we need.”
The soldier scoffed. “You think I’d help you?”
Grace scowled at him, and went over to Jack, as Miles took over, keeping the rifle aimed.
Leaning back against the wall, Jack holstered the pistol, and slid down with great pain.
“Here. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Grace knelt beside him and opened her pack. She took out some gauze and antiseptic from her first aid pouch and proceeded to dress the laceration in his rippled abdomen.
Jack strained through his teeth. “Ow!”
“Such a baby,” Grace said, trying to apply the medical tape. “Hold still.”
“How does a palace princess know all this first aid stuff?”
“Part of my education.” Grace said, wistfully. “Never thought I’d be using it like this.”
“Quiet, you two.” Miles craned his neck toward the cave entrance. “Those other soldiers are still out there looking for us. Probably heard the gunshots.”
She worked in silence for several minutes until the sound of footsteps approached.
Everyone tensed up.
Miles pressed the muzzle of his gun into the soldier’s head. “If you even break wind, you’re dead.”
“Raynard!” another soldier called into the cave. “Are you in there?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
GRACE STOOD BREATHLESS as Jack clambered to his feet. Would they have to shoot their way out of this?
The soldier at the cave’s mouth called out, “Raynard, answer me!”
“Everything’s fine,” Jack replied, in a near-flawless impersonation. “Egon thought someone was in here, now he’s just doing his business.”
“The captain wants us to regroup at the rendezvous point in fifteen minutes. You know what happens if you’re late.”
“See you there.” He kicked at the ground. “Hurry up, Egon.”
The footsteps grew fainter.
Grace finally exhaled.
“I’m just glad he wasn’t talking German.” Military and law enforcement personnel were all expected to be fluent in the official imperial language, though most in the ASA spoke English as their native tongue.
Miles reached down, grabbed the soldier by his collar, and yanked him to his feet. “All right, Raynard. Where’s the rendezvous point?”
Raynard said nothing.
Miles pulled him close and spoke into his ear. “I asked you a question, boy. Didn’t your momma teach you any manners? You’d best answer; I’m not nearly so kind as Grace.”
The soldier’s eyes shifted from side to side. “It’s about one kilometer east of here.”
“Don’t be messin’ with me.”
“I swear on the Kaiser’s throne.”
Miles shoved him against the wall. “As if there was any honor in that.”
Jack walked toward the entrance of the cave and surveyed the woods. He turned back to the group. “Coast is clear. Everybody ready to move?”
“Ready,” Miles said.
“Grace?”
She re-tied her ponytail. “Let’s go.”
Jack used Raynard’s belt to bind his wrists behind his back. He poked the rifle into his back and shoved him forward. “Don’t try anything stupid.” He leaned in close. “I don’t dress wounds, like Grace. I inflict them.”
Grace followed Jack while Miles brought up the rear.
They marched along for fifteen minutes without a word.
A nocturnal creature screeched, breaking the silence.
Startled, Grace stopped. “What was that?”
“An owl.” Jack regarded her with a smirk. “You really need to get out of the palace more.”
She glared at him as they continued walking.
“She pretty much was a prisoner,” Miles said.
Jack stopped and held his hand up. He turned around and whispered, “They may have added more people to the search party.”
Raynard let out a bitter laugh, a flippant smirk twisted the prisoner’s features.
“What are you grinning about?” Jack said.
The answer came in the sound of a pistol cocking.
Slowly, Jack turned around.
It was an SS guard, his gun pointed square into Jack’s forehead. With an outstretched palm, he wiggled his fingers for Jack to turn over his handgun.
With one gun pointed at Grace, and the other over at Miles, the guard turned to Jack. “Go and stand with the Führer’s daughter.”
Jack did so.
“You! Infekt!” The guard’s lip twisted in disgust, as though the very act of speaking with Miles had sullied him. “Toss your gun over to me.”
With a frustrated huff, Miles complied.
“That’s a good African. Now, untie him.”
As soon as Miles released Raynard from his restraints, Raynard turned and slammed an elbow into his face. Miles’ head turned to the side, but he remained on his feet with eyes so fierce, they could kill with their intensity.
The guard regarded Raynard. “I was beginning to think Egon was getting constipated or some—”
“They killed Egon.” Raynard shook his head.
“What kind of animals are you?” The guard surveyed them, then stepped before Miles. “I’d call you a dog, but that would be an insult to Egon.” He slammed a fist into Miles’ gut and sneered. “What made you think you could get away with this?”
Miles remained silent.
The guard tossed one of his guns to Raynard, who caught it deftly with one hand, chambered a round, and pointed it straight at Grace’s head.
“You can’t shoot her,” Miles said. “You’re under orders.”
“Shut up!” The guard placed his gun to Miles’ head.
“No, please. Don’t!” Grace pleaded.
“What is it, Fraulein?” He smiled at her and laughed. “You want me to spare this Infekt, is that it?”
Grace nodded.
The smile evanesced into the night. “I’d rather die than—”
Jack reached over and grabbed Raynard’s gun hand, and put him in a choke hold with his other arm. Before Raynard could utter a word, Jack pointed the gun—still in Raynard’s hand—at the guard and fired a round.
It hit him square in the forehead.
Grace ducked away.
Vying for control, Raynard managed to get the gun, its muzzle still smoking, and pointed it back at Jack’s face.
Both of their hands trembled from exertion as the gun pressed deeper.
For some strange reason, Jack released Raynard’s neck from his choke hold.
But before Grace could let out a scream, the sickening sound of tearing flesh stopped her.
The gun fell out of Raynard’s hand.
He slumped to the ground.
The handle of the knife Jack had taken from him, protruded from the back of his neck.
Grace stared numbly at the two guards lying dead in the dirt. All her life had been cushioned in luxury, music, the arts and letters, all the beauty of a gentle people. Now in one night, she’d seen more blood and gore than she’d ever thought possible.
Miles pulled his knife out of Raynard’s neck and began to strip him of his supplies. “How are we on time?”
Jack collected his gun and helped Miles pick the other guard clean. “Falling behind schedule.”
Motionless, Grace stared at the scene.
Jack’s eyes met hers.
He gave her a sympathetic look. “I know this is ugly, Princess. But if we’re going to make it out of here alive, it won’t be the last of it you see.”
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