18th November 1942
Saint-Nazaire, France.
The small blonde girl held back tears as she watched the bombs fall like shooting stars in the night sky around her, the warmth of a burning house scorching her back and the orange glow burning her eyes. She clutched a dainty golden locket between her fingers. Debris from the bombs and the fire had cut into her; blood and dirt coated her legs as she began to push herself to run from the German Nazi voices shouting, "We've missed one! There she is!"
She didn't know where she was going. So she ran, straight into the rubble of the bombed out city streets in hopes to find safety. She shrieked at the sight of dead bodies; many missing arms and legs, many still living.
The small blonde fought through the stabbing pain shooting throughout her body as she dodged parked cars and prayed she wouldn't end up in the crossfire. In the distance, she could hear French shouting; she directed herself towards the voices, desperately seeking safety in anyone.
The voices led her to the side of a bridge as people seemingly began to set a bomb. The small blonde threw her hands up, the international sign of surrender, and began to cry out in a desperate, breaking voice, "Aidez-moi, s' il vous plait! I need help! Please!"
The people, though hesitant, sent an older woman running to the girl's side.
"Who are you?" The woman asked in French, slowing down before she could get a step closer to the small blonde girl.
"N-Noelle Rousseau- I just- I need help," Noelle paused to breath, shaking as the sobs continued to pour out, "Our house- our- it's gone, everyone's gone, they've burned it-"
The older woman immediately took Noelle under her arm, trying to calm her screams down as they made their way back over near the tracks, "You're safe, you'll be okay now. We'll take care of you, shh, I got you."
Noelle woke up face-to-face with an ugly brick wall, having slept on a dusty, dirty old mattress and a scraggly blood-stained hospital blanket. There were papers scattered among the floor, as well as pinned and taped to the walls. But she wasn't the only one there; whispering voices filled the dimly-lit room.
"Ah, look, Marie's girl has finally come-to." A deep French-accented voice shattered the looming silence in the room. Noelle turned her head and was greeted with about eight other people, with wide eyes watching as she stirred.
"Mmmm, it's about damn time that girl woke up. I honestly thought she'd died and we'd just delayed getting rid of the body. Wouldn't be the first time that happened." A different American-accented voice chimed in, followed by the rustling of papers and footsteps.
A man, who appeared to be in his mid-thirties, plopped down next to Noelle.
"So, Marie tells us your name is Noelle, correct?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. He had fiery red hair and caramel-tinted eyes, along with red freckles spanning cheekbone to cheekbone.
Noelle nodded her head, though refrained from speaking.
The red headed man paused for a moment before asking his next question, "And you're house. It was burned a few nights ago?"
"Oui," She paused, processing the words before shaking her head, "Wait- a few nights ago?"
"You've been out for about three days, kid. Gotta admit, you haven't missed much; except Marie. She's the one who brought ya here. She's gone off to Berlin."
Noelle paused, yet again, with her eyebrows furrowed, "Berlin?"
"We're fighting a war here, kid. Haven't you heard about those damn Nazi fuckers? Man, you've been living under a rock." The man let out a laugh, as he wrapped an arm around Noelle.
Noelle uncomfortably adjusted to the man's arm wrapped around her, wrapping her fists into little balls.
"How rude of me- I'm Charlie. That's Edward, Dominic, Josephine, Leo, and Manon," Charlie pointed to a different body with every new name. He paused for a few moments, "Mm, yep- that's about all of us down here. We're a pretty big group sometimes."
"Noelle, I'd like to welcome you to the French Resistance. You can leave if you want to, of course, but a pretty lil' bird like you could make an excellent spy. Can you shoot a gun?"