Chapter Three

I stared at Wilson, dumb-founded, as my mind tried to process what he said. The word "panic" couldn't quite describe the awful crushing sensation inside my chest at that moment. Somehow — through the anxiety or whatever I was feeling — I found the strength of mind to respond.

"Okay," I said, inhaling a breath through my nose in an attempt to relax. "All right. He can't have wandered that far. When did you last see him?"

"Well, I went to follow up on reports of the flu in Barracks 9," Wilson explained. "I was away from the infirmary for maybe ten or fifteen minutes. I know he was there when I left, because I'd just finished checking his cast and making sure he was comfortable. When I finally came back, his bed was empty. No sign of him anywhere. Carter, I swear I've looked everywhere I can think of but he's just...gone. Poof!"

Wilson made a large sweeping gesture with both hands, as if he were a magician who had made something disappear.

I nodded and said, "We'll find him...we have to."

The thought of Colonel Hogan's reaction to this turn of events only doubled my determination to find our friend.

Oh boy, I thought. Of course he had to go missing with Hochstetter here. The Colonel's sure to kill me if he hears about this!

I let Wilson know I would join him by the infirmary in a minute to continue the search. The Sergeant rounded the left corner of the barracks and flickered out of sight. I quickly turned to scan the immediate area, searching for...for...ah, there he was! Newkirk. I knew he could help Wilson and me.

Newkirk was clever, sneaky — if anyone could keep the Colonel from knowing that something was wrong, it was him.

The Corporal stood next to the water barrel. He was surrounded by a few of the other fellas in our barracks. I jogged toward him, hoping my face revealed nothing about my emotional state. Newkirk glanced up at my approach and gave a small wave of acknowledgment. He exchanged a few more words with Foster and Private Garlotti, then turned to greet me.

"It's sweltering out here today, it is," said Newkirk. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, then he let out a long, tired breath through puckered lips. "Could barely sleep last night, what with it being so stuffy in that proper death-trap of a hut."

"Yeah, right," I said. I paused for a second, trying to figure out how to explain the situation to Newkirk. My next words spilled out in a rush, "Hey, um...would I be able to ask a favor of you? It'll only take a few minutes — at least I hope so. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, of course! You know how much I hate stirring up trouble unless it's absolutely necessary. I'm really not the kind of guy who—"

I was beyond relieved when Newkirk cut my awkward rambling short.

"Whoa, whoa," he said, throwing his hands up. "Slow down a tick, Carter! What favor are you talkin' about here?"

So, with a deep breath, I told him what I'd learned from Wilson just a short time ago. When I was done I saw Newkirk's eyes roll heaven-ward, a hand covering part of his mouth.

"You've got to be joking," he said. "And Wilson's lookin' around for him now, you said?"

I confirmed this by giving a nod.

"We can't let the kommandant or Major Hochstetter find him," I said. "The Colonel's still mad at me for that mishap with Klink. Just think what he'll do if he knows that I messed up again!"

My face twisted in guilt as I imagined the Colonel, angry and disappointed, saying, Not again, Carter. You're a Sergeant of the U.S. Army Air Corps...you should know better! I couldn't even bear to dwell on the reactions that might come from Hochstetter and Klink. Those krauts could be so cruel, so heartless—

Newkirk's hand on my shoulder jarred me back into the moment.

"Andrew, don't worry about it," he assured. A faint smile plucked at the corners of his mouth. "We'll find that little chap and get him back in Wilson's care. I promise."

I returned the smile automatically, but I still didn't feel that hopeful. Our "little chap" could have strayed into the woods and gotten lost for all we knew. If I thought realistically about it, how good were the chances of finding him and bringing him back to Stalag 13? Probably slim to none.

But despite the odds, despite common sense, I couldn't give up. Not yet. I guess, when you got right down to it, he felt like my responsibility. I was the one who had found him in the tunnels and rushed to get him the help he needed. And yeah, I'll admit it...I had already grow attached to him.

Well, here we go then, I thought. I hope you're okay, buddy. I hope you're not scared. We're coming for you. You'll be okay.

I grabbed Newkirk's sleeve for a brief moment as we turned to walk together. Whether the action was to remind myself that both Wilson and Newkirk were helping out, or just some nervous reflex, I didn't know. But as we followed Wilson's earlier route, I let my hand drop back down to my side.

It's all right, buddy...I promise we'll do try our best to find you.