It's not really too Wendy centric but I'm running out of chapter names, so sue me. (Please don't)
Kenny's POV
I resented Cartman for what he had done. Craig had come back really shook up, I sat with him as he curled into a ball, breathing heavily but that was about all I could see wrong with him. Who knew what he was thinking.
I waited until Craig calmed down, exhausted from his grueling day he fell asleep and left me alone in the dark.
Exiting the room I found the fat bastard leaving to lock up the ghetto.
"I'll go sir," I stood to attention, even putting in the effort to salute him.
He grinned and rammed the keys into my hand, "Easy soldier,"
I could smell the alcohol of his breath.
He waddled away down the corridor of sleeping men, humming as he did so.
Upon seeing him disappear into the blackness of the dank corridor I unfurled the keys from my palm and checked my back pocket, they were still there.
When we arrived back earlier that evening I offered to grab Craig a bandage for the cut on his chest, he was so out of it he didn't even realize I wasn't being a dick to him.
As soon as I was in the medical cabinet I grabbed the antibiotics. With the amount of people getting hurt around here no one really noticed.
I entered the outside. It had started to snow, the cool flakes of shaved ice drifted lazily on paths of solitude, floating to the ground inch by inch and sticking to the dusted pavements.
I began to walk, my coat pulled tight around my shoulders, bending over against the cold, I blew on my gloved hands. I began to walk faster.
Slowly I knocked on the door, that should have been enough for them to recognise it was me. No Nazi would ever knock when entering a place that belonged to them. No Nazi would ever treat them with dignity but to me, I was no longer a Nazi.
Hanging on by rusty hinges, the door creaked open and a thin girl with tanned skin peaked her upturned nose out.
"Have you got it?" She asked desperately and I pushed into the room, glaring at her.
"You had no idea who I was with!" I growled, watching her shrink in her worn, pulling, cotton shirt.
I sighed and looked around.
"She's getting better," Kyle rose from the girl's bedside, his face ecstatic. "She's slept all today but she made out some words last night,"
He seemed so proud and I just nodded politely, walking over to the prone girl.
She still had a fine sheen of sweat plastered to her forehead but her complexion looked healthier and blood had returned to her lips. I reached out to touch her hand and it was deathly cold.
I stripped off my coat and laid it over the body, she breathed quickly beneath it, encased in a dream, smiling peacefully.
"Just give her some of these," I took out the medicine and pressed it into Kyle's hands. He looked at me warily and I could tell he would never trust me.
"Why do you want to help us?" He asked, folding his arms and taking one step closer to me as if he would attack me if I gave to wrong answer.
Let him try.
"I've told you," And I had, "I never wanted people to die,"
He laughed in my face, spit spackled my cheeks and I fought the urge to wipe it away. Instead choosing to stare into Kyle's wild, green eyes. Full of rebellion.
"The man who greets his friend with 'Heil Hitler' didn't want people to die," He retorted, "Your an idiot,"
"Why?" I growled, stepping closer so the toes of my boots where brushing the toes of his worn out, brown, loafers.
Kyle looked down at the floor.
"Because we're going to die," He mumbled, out of ear shot of his companions.
I exhaled slowly, I felt sorry for this man. He had fought and worked so hard to keep up the moral of a dying breed. It must be hard with women crying and living like shit, friends being ill and men turning to animals. I think that the death of Token broke him, he had lost the taste for rebellion that I had seen in his eyes, he was like a dog kicked out and left in the rain, pawing at the door to apologize but answered by no one.
"You aren't," I assured him softly, reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder.
"No!" He batted my arm away and I lifted my hands in defence, "We're going to die and you're going to die too if you try and help us," He breathed heavily, tears pricking his eyes.
"That's not true Kyle," He opened his mouth in protest to me using his name, his eyes darting around, "I've heard things,"
He stopped, his accusing finger dropping to his side as he moved slightly closer to the man in the Nazi uniform.
"What things?" He asked quizzically, flaking away a patch of dried dirt on his arm.
"There's been talk of a rebellion against the Nazi's, rescuing the people inside the ghettos, taking things into our own hands,"
Suddenly the tiny house was alive with gossip, gentle murmurings of hope and the driving crescendo of passion, of rebellion, of revolution!
I grinned, watching as a wide toothed smile broke out across Kyle's face, he buried his head in his hands and as much as I wanted to pat him on the back, I refrained.
"Now Red's getting better," Kyle sighed to the girl who had joined him, "Token's will be the last death, the last,"
I nodded in agreement, I had no friends, no one to fight for but now I did. I would do what's right for once, and I would not let another person die.
Kyle turned and knelt by the sleeping girl's bedside, her slumbering smile lifted her cheeks and her eyes making her look beautiful and more alive than ever.
"Hear that Red," Wendy whispered, clutching the fiery headed girl's hand, "We're going to get out of here,"
Wendy's smile faltered and she glanced up to me.
"Was she this cold a minute ago?" She asked.
I nodded slowly, my face suddenly creased, I jammed my hands into my pockets.
Kyle looked at Wendy, his mouth forming a small O and his hands freezing in the position they were in.
Wendy stared, her knuckles turning white as she gripped Red's hand harder than before. Creeping foreward, she laid her head down onto Red's chest, waiting for the eventual inhale.
Wendy gasped sharply, she began to convulse as she released Red's hand, her arms flying up to her hair, jittering wildly as she tangled her hands in it, pulling on it frantically, her face twisting into an excruciating look of pain.
A wail to match that of a banshee escaped from Wendy's lips.
"Do something!" She screamed at Kyle but he was still frozen, his bottom lip twitching slightly.
Red still had a smile on her face.
"I don't know what to do," Kyle breathed, the reply barely audible against the pandemonium.
I didn't know what had happened, but I think Red had been dead for a while.
Wendy collapsed on the body as people began to gather round, she delicately stroked the girl's crimson hair, petting it lovingly as she cried loudly and ferociously into the brown dress the girl was wearing. Her anguish subsiding to whimpering as she tried to prop Red up in the bed, ignoring the slack movements and the absent pulse.
I stood aside and let them mourn, I had thought she would live, how were we to know? We weren't doctors, all we did was our best and sometimes that isn't good enough. If anyone knows that it's me.
Kyle was mumbling to himself, swaying back and forth slightly and shaking his head. I wanted to go over and steady him but I just felt heavy, like I couldn't move my feet, I didn't belong there.
"Aww Red," Kyle sighed, his voice wheezing as he squeezed the words out of a throat that felt too tight, he moved a hand through his hair and I saw a perfect tear pushed into the corner of his eye. Quickly demolished by a balled up fist.
Suddenly he turned to me, his eyes raw.
"Get out," He growled.
Before I could reply he had already hit me once, his fist came down again but I caught it in my my cheek began to burn.
I understood that he blamed me: If I had given her the antibiotics sooner, I was a Nazi, I oversaw Red working, bla bla bla, but I wouldn't let him beat the crap out of me.
I reached into my coat and someone gasped behind me, thinking wrong of my actions, I glared at them.
I held out a gun. Handle forewards, to Kyle.
He stared down, he was crying now as he grasped it, pulling it towards it and staring at it. Numb.
"What's this for?" He grumbled, through heaving in breaths of air.
"Just in case," I mumbled and then fled from the building back into the freezing air.
"Slightly late McCormick," I heard a familiar voice, turning to see Cartman stood like a black shadow against the virginal snow.
I walked past him, my head shoved down so he didn't see the red mark on my face.
"One of them's dead," I admitted.
I walked back with the sounds of Cartman's laughter ringing in my ears.
