Hello! Here I am with chapter ten! Yay, double digits! School is going much smoother now so I might be able to get going on these again. I worked my tail off to finish this one because today is October 5th, the day at the Crossroads and that is what this chapter is about. I thought that was pretty cool.
Must say this: Senior Homecoming rules! 29-7! Go Wolfpack!! Sorry…
About the beginning bit, it seems a little short and random but my creative juices weren't giving me anything better so I just had to go with it. Sorry if it's terrible.
Enjoy!
Chapter Ten: The End of Safety
October 1944
Randwijk, Holland
"Are you sure we should do this?" Spina asked having second thoughts on the idea.
"It is nothing bad." Krista replied. "And he needs it." The medic nodded, agreeing but hoping there would be no backlash.
Together they walked to a store room in the back where Roe was found putting away medical supplies. The last rush of wounded had left the room terribly unorganized and it was impossible to find anything one needed in the small amount of time they had to get it. Someone needed to straighten it up so precious seconds need not be wasted. Roe had, not surprisingly, volunteered. Another job to get done, another chance to stay awake. He turned around as they entered the room, slightly concerned that both had come.
"Is something wrong?"
"I don't know. Why don't you tell us?" Spina asked his voice a little solemn.
Roe looked confused. "I've been in here all day, how would I know?" Neither responded; they simply watched him. A thought suddenly dawned on him. "You're not here for the men, are you?"
Krista shook her head. "No. We are here for you."
He sighed, starting to get real sick of everything that was going on. "Like I said before, I'm fine."
"If falling asleep at random times without your consent is the definition of fine, then alright." Spina replied, his confidence in the 'mission' growing.
Roe glared at the medic but said nothing.
"We are trying to help." Krista said trying to ease the tension. "Just get some sleep."
"I don't need it." Roe stated not convincing anyone. "And what if more wounded come?"
"We will wake you!" Krista shouted. This little stubborn bit of his was becoming tiresome.
"No." His voice was stern and cold reminding her of so many others she had known. She gave him an equally cold stare; she did not hate him, in fact it was the opposite. She was not going to back down until he gave in. Why would he not try to understand?
Spina coughed. "Eugene, you and I both know Captain Winters can make you. He takes concern in situations like this, so you can either take a break now or later under a direct order."
Roe looked stunned, even betrayed, for a while, and then he sighed. There was no used fighting a battle you were destined to lose, at least in this case.
"Alright, I'll do it." He paused, knowing he needed to add more. Admitting you are wrong is the hardest thing to do. "Guess I just got a little distracted by work. Thought once I stopped everything would fall apart."
"Well you know some of us are capable of doing the job too." Krista looked over at Spina and hit him, not appreciating his addition to the conversation. This brought a smile from Roe.
"This is not for you." She whispered.
"Yeah, I know. I just thought I'd…" The glare he received made him stop. Spina raised his hands up and walked away. Krista turned back to roe and smiled, knowing full well that she looked completely ridiculous.
"So the score stands: Krista two, professionals zero. I suppose this was your idea?"
"Yes."
"I figured as much. Why'd you bring Spina?"
"I needed good English." Roe's smile grew as he stepped out of the store room. "In the back there is a bed."
"Thought of everything haven't you?" She smiled nodding. "Thank you." Those two words left Krista speechless for a moment. It was the last thing she ever expected him to say after all the days of annoying persuasions and all of the times he had stormed off leaving her unsure of if he would ever speak to her again. But he said it, truly meaning it. This gave Krista a warm feeling inside. Even after helping with all of the casualties, this was the first time she really felt like she was doing something, that she was affecting change in a good way. Maybe atonement had begun after all.
It was down pouring again, the same as yesterday and the day before. Krista missed the sun. Perhaps she should not have cursed it before.
The few days that she had spent with the men had once again taken a toll on her clothes. They were worn and covered with blood but she had not gotten any replacements despite several efforts from Nixon who had taken a liking to granting her favors. She did not mind the lack of new outfits though. None of the others had new uniforms to change into, why should she?
Krista sat on the porch of one of the buildings, like she always did, watching the rain fall, often staring in the direction of the front line where the men she knew were getting drenched. What a miserable existence it must have been.
The German shepherd next to her began to whine. He wanted to play.
"No Trigger." The dog put his head down again silently objecting to her response. Found by Talbert, Krista had the opportunity to watch Trigger whenever he was on the line. He was a good dog and appeared to know German which she whispered to him occasionally when she was certain no one was around. They would have lovely conversations which sounded crazy but it helped. Too bad the only truly serious discussions she ever had were with someone who could not answer.
The porch creaked as someone walked on it. Krista looked over at the not so surprising sight. As company first sergeant, Lipton was around quite often, at least more so than the others. He would often visit with her before heading back to the line. There was a stick in his hand which Trigger noticed. Before Krista could say anything, he bounced up and ran toward Lipton, waiting for his opportunity to grab it. Lipton saw this coming and tossed the stick but not before getting bumped into first. Obviously there was no apology from Trigger as he disappeared into the rain.
Krista sighed. "He is wet." She heard Lipton chuckle to himself.
"Sorry about that." He said sitting next to her. "Couldn't resist."
She nodded turning her gaze back to the rain soaked world. "How is it?" The mood became serious even before Lipton spoke.
"Cold, wet, muddy. Most of the guys are getting colds, some are losing their voices. No one's seen the sun for a couple days. The littlest thing can set someone off." He paused. "It's not too good."
"And I am here."
"Hey, it's alright. No one's blaming you. I know all the guys feel better knowing you're safe here." Krista thought about it and nodded, though she did not feel better.
Thunder clapped overhead. Lipton looked around.
"Where's Trigger?"
As if on cue, in came the German shepherd, stick in mouth, completely soaked. He put the stick down and proceeded to shake, flinging water on the occupants of the porch. Krista and Lipton looked at each other and laughed, both petting the dog who was satisfied with the run.
Lipton picked up the stick. "He brought the wrong one back." They began to laugh again. "Reminds me of my dog."
"You have a dog?"
"Yeah, an old mutt. Sits on the porch all day like this guy." He patted Trigger on the back. "He supposedly eats anything…then my wife tried to cook." Krista stifled a laugh out of respect for his wife. It did not seem right considering she did not know her.
"You are not nice."
"Yeah, that's what she says, harsher words but basically what she says." Lipton paused. "She dropped the food she was making, not sure what it was, it looked pretty burned beyond recognition. Anyway, that mutt comes running in thinking he's going to get a free meal. He takes one whiff of that thing and bolts the other way." Krista could not control her laughter now. Together the two laughed for quite some time as the rain began to stop falling.
Lipton looked over at the clearing horizon. "Well, there you go. Things might be looking up after all."
"Maybe." Krista replied, her voice not so certain.
They were in a barn, or a stable; she could not be sure. Krista sat in the hay watching the poker game nearby. Every now and then Trigger would come by with his stick, too lazy to go back to Talbert. She would toss it in his direction but eventually the process would start over.
Roe was a few rooms away doing…something. She was not sure what but that did not matter. Webster was off somewhere, Luz was a few feet away as was Lipton but no one was talking to her. They were just letting her sit, watching them curiously. The lack of attention was rather comforting. She was becoming 'normal.' No longer did they think of constantly watching out for her, except for Guarnere who chatted her up every time he was around.
All had grown rather quiet. A few whispers here and there, even the poke game was limited to a few mumbles every now and then. The peace was so nice that no one realized it was too good to be true.
The second the door busted open, everyone was on their feet, expecting the worst. Krista ran to the front where the first thing she saw was the blood and then the face. She knew the man. Her heart dropped slightly but that did not stop her from doing the job.
They placed the paratrooper, Alley, on a table nearby after clearing everything off with one swift push. He was bleeding from the side, obviously a grenade; she had seen enough of them.
"Shirt off!" She shouted not caring if her English made sense or not, someone was bound to understand her, which they did. Talbert ran up quickly, ripping off Alley's shirt so the wounds were visible. Another person, thinking ahead, handed Krista a canteen which she used to wash the blood away, revealing the gaping holes in his side. She had no bandages forcing her to wait for Roe to show up, which did not take long.
"What happened?" Roe asked as he ran inside, hands already digging through his bag.
"Germans pitched a grenade." Liebgott replied. He stood right behind Krista. She was talking to Alley now who was still very conscious. "It was at the crossroads."
"And it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't opened you big mouth!" Someone in the background shouted.
"Why don't you shut your trap!"
Winters stepped in. "Quiet! Lipton get me a squad!" The first sergeant disappeared from the corner of Krista's eye but she paid it no attention, focusing everything on keeping Alley calm.
"Hello, Mo."
"Geez, you didn't call me James. It must be bad." Alley replied his tone not too concerned.
Roe looked over. "You're not staring at her chest. I think you already know that." Despite the pain he was in, Alley managed to smile.
"Hey Doc, have a heart. Laughter hurts." Roe handed Krista a small vial: morphine. She quickly injected it into his leg. Alley's smile seemed to grow almost instantly.
"Hey Liebgott, you going back out?" Roe asked not looking up from Alley's wounds.
"Yeah, I am."
"Have Krista check out your neck first." This got her attention. Krista turned around to face Liebgott who had a decent amount of blood on his neck.
"Joe, are you…?"
"I'm fine." Liebgott said abruptly, his voice a little cold.
Krista's eyes narrowed. "No you are not." She grabbed a bandage from Roe's bag and motioned Liebgott over to the wall. "Sit." Liebgott looked ready to protest but he took one look at her stare and decided not to chance it. Sitting down, he looked up at Krista. She grabbed the canteen he offered and proceeded to clean his wound. It remained quiet for a moment.
"It's my fault." Liebgott whispered. Krista looked around first to see if anyone noticed. Most were too busy getting ready to head out.
"What is?"
"Alley." He paused. "I was a little behind. I heard voices, thought it was Youman, and called out. It was stupid. I could have gotten everyone killed." Krista sighed, looking up at him but he refused to make eye contact, preferring the sight of the wall instead. She wrapped the bandage as fast and as delicate as she could.
"They are fine…you are fine." Liebgott looked at her for a second, almost confused but then Winters called out to the squad. Hurriedly he leapt up and grabbed his rifle. The men sifted out leaving the barn in an eerie silence. Another sinking feeling hit Krista. Never before had she felt so concerned about these men, so certain that something was going to happen to one of them.
The sun had begun to rise and still the men had not returned. Instead, more had left. Everyone she knew had gone to the battle, even Roe. In the distance she could hear gunshots, tying her stomach up tighter every time. Each shot could be someone dead, someone she knew and cared about. Shells did not seem as bad now; no man runs out to face those.
Krista had strayed as far from the barn as she dared. She stood near the edge of a road, pacing back and forth from time to time waiting for someone familiar, for some kind of news as to what was happening. The wait was going to be the death of her.
There was a low rumble overhead, something that she instantly recognized as shells. Dropping down into a ditch below, Krista covered her head with her hands, thinking it was intended for her. Nothing happened; she felt ridiculous. Of course the shells were not coming for her, she was one person. No one would waste their ammo on a lone person. But if there was a group…
Jumping out of the ditch, Krista ran down the street heading toward the gunshots. Out in the open, they were no match for the shells and even if they survived, there would still be bullets. The chances of her ever seeing the men she knew again seemed to decrease by the second. No more Roe or Liebgott, Luz or Malarkey. She would even miss Guarnere's conversations, no matter how annoying they tended to get and her stupid ones with Webster, even though she usually embarrassed herself out of them.
Krista slowed down. She had to stop thinking about this. They were not dead, they would not do that to her, not after what happened to Pierre. Of course, they did not know but they had to assume by what they had seen or heard. But this was war and men had no choice as to whether they lived or died. Even if the men were dead, what could she do? It was too late to do anything for them or for those who were going to die. If she just showed up, everyone would be focused on keeping her safe and that would get someone else hurt. She was not about to let someone die because of her. No, not again.
Plopping down on the road, Krista watched what she assumed was the battlefield, waiting again for anything that would hint as to what was going on. All she heard was the sound of gunshots, the last thing she needed to hear.
'Calm down, Krista.' She told herself. 'Panicking will do you no good here.' What else was she supposed to do? She did the decent thing by not putting herself in danger, the least she could do was freak out over what was happening.
Another noise caught her attention. It was not the sound of shells but something else, small and hardly noticeable but she could hear it: a small voice shouting over a distance. Was it calling to her? Looking around, she could see no one else so she had to assume. Standing, she ran in the direction it was coming from but soon the voice stopped. Krista continued to search.
"Hello?" She called out hoping to get a response.
"Krista!" Her heart skipped a beat. She knew that voice. Charging into a field below the road, Krista ran toward the voice once again, this time seeing a figure stretched out in the dirt.
"David!" Indeed it was Webster, crawling his way through the field looking muddy and exhausted, not to mention a little ticked off at the whole situation. He looked surprised though as he watched Krista make her way over. "Why are you here?"
"I could ask you the same question." Webster replied as she knelt beside him. It was then she noticed his leg.
"You are hit!"
"Million dollar wound." Krista was too distracted by his injury to even question what his sentence meant.
Satisfied with the bandage, she looked at him. "Can you stand?"
"Last time I tried that, the Krauts fired off some lovely 88s." So much for her theory on wasting artillery for one person. "But seeing as how you're okay, I guess I'll give it another try." With Krista's help, Webster managed to stand up. Using his rifle and Krista as sort of makeshift crutches, he was able to get onto the road. They stood there for a while listening to the silence marked by an occasional gunshot.
"How far to the aid station?"
"Far enough."
Webster sighed. "Maybe I ought to just sit here and wait for a ride." There was another noise in the distance but Krista paid it no attention.
"Is anyone…dead?"
"Just one guy."
She could have dropped. "Who?"
"You don't know him."
"Who?" she asked again, this time more stern. He could not tell her who she did or did not know. Last time she checked he was not around with her every second of the day. The only person who could really say anything was Roe.
"Dukeman." He was right, she did not know him but pain was felt nonetheless. Maybe she had seen him before, passed him briefly, maybe even smiled at him. She never truly knew him and now he was dead but perhaps it was better than if she had known him.
Webster shifted, looking down the road. He heard the noise as well which had continually gotten louder.
"Do you hear that?" he asked. Squinting, Krista could just barely make out a speck on the horizon, traveling down the road at a reckless pace. She began to wave, making sure that the driver took notice of them. The vehicle, now looking more and more like a jeep, swerved a bit but managed to give them a wide enough berth. It also began to slow down, the occupants noticing that Webster was injured.
"Would you look at that?" Webster said, smiling. "My ride's here."
Two medics quickly jumped off the jeep as soon as it stopped. There was someone on the back that looked in terrible condition. Clearly they needed to get him out of there as fast as they could.
"We've only got room for one and that's him." Krista nodded, watching the medics put him on the hood of the truck. Webster did not look too thrilled about being used as a windshield. He looked prepared to walk back to the aid station but made no verbal objections; he simply looked at Krista.
"You're going over there aren't you? That's why you were out here in the first place." Krista opened her mouth to object but then shut it again. She could not lie to him, not about something this obvious. Instead she nodded, watching the concern creep into Webster's eyes. He wanted to tell her not to go but that would be useless. The only way to keep her from leaving was for him to physically get out of the jeep and hold her there. That was not going to happen anytime soon. So Webster said nothing else, he just nodded like she had and waited for the jeep to start up again.
Krista watched the jeep until it was well out of sight, and then her heart began to race. Webster had said that only one man was dead but clearly he had not been over there for a while. Someone else could be dead by now and it was doubtful that she would get, for lack of a better word, lucky again.
Once more she was running, the silence of the battlefield ahead agonizing instead of comforting. Paranoia had reached its peak, pushing her to go faster. Every second wasted was another life lost, another friend dead. She could not let that happen. Her heart could take it no more.
Another speck on the horizon, no, more than one. There was a group of people walking down the road, a majority of them with their hands over their heads. As she got closer, Krista could make out the one man with a rifle. It was Liebgott, still basically whole except for the cut on his neck. Not caring about the prisoners, Krista ran up to Liebgott and hugged him. The latter watched the Germans, expecting them to move but they merely stood still, watching the two curiously.
"You are okay." The genuine relief in her voice threw Liebgott off slightly. He sat still for a moment, unsure of what to do. It was Krista who realized that this was not the right place so she quickly backed off.
"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine. Why…why are you here?"
"I wanted to see the others." Krista replied, curiosity forcing her to glance over at the Germans.
"I just came from there. Everyone's fine, alright? C'mon, I need to get you back to HQ." Liebgott grabbed her arm but Krista was rooted to the spot. He looked at her. "Krista?"
She was staring at the prisoners, shock written all over her face. Even tears were beginning to well up for reasons Liebgott did not know, that no one knew except for her for she knew these uniforms, knew who these men were but still she had to ask.
"Shutzstaffel?" One of the men nodded, confirming her fears. Before Liebgott could do anything, Krista bolted toward the battlefield, fueled this time by the certainty of death.
"Krista!" Liebgott started to run after her but realized he still had the prisoners to look out for. Fortunately, there happened to be a private coming his way. Perhaps Winters wanted him to be checked on. Liebgott did not care at the moment.
"Private!" he shouted. "Private, take these men back to HQ!" The man looked about ready to say no but when Liebgott darted past him, he had no choice but to take care of the prisoners. Even running as fast as he could, Liebgott knew he would not catch Krista before she saw the field. He only hoped she stopped there. He watched Krista make her way to the top, picking up his pace after he saw her collapse. She must have seen the bodies, that was the only explanation.
Krista did not move, not even when Liebgott came up beside her. All she could do was stare, tears streaming down. Liebgott would assume that it was the shear amount of dead, the confirmation of a disturbing battle, that is what everyone would assume just like they had done with her, thinking that she was Dutch. Perhaps if they had not, they would understand why the tears came now.
Liebgott put his hand on her shoulder. "Let's get you out of here." Krista said nothing; instead she shook off his hand. Standing up, she began to walk down onto the field, passing by dead Germans to her left and right, not caring how it looked. She knew full well what she was admitting now, that everyone would know her true heritage. They would hate her but she did not care. For now, no one was there, except her and the dead men, including one that looked disturbingly familiar.
September 1944
Eindhoven, Holland
Krista entered a small flat, a bag of groceries in hand. The Dutch Resistance had been kind and lent it to them saying that anyone against Hitler was most certainly welcome. Humming a local tune, she made her way into the kitchen where Pierre sat reading a newspaper. The past few months had gone by fairly smooth. The arrival of the Allies had distracted the Germans allowing even a wanted person such as Krista to wander the streets unnoticed.
"What is happening today?" Krista asked, not particularly caring. The news would be the same today as it had been the day before: good. There was no way that the Germans would admit to the Dutch that their grip on Europe was slipping, though most assumed it anyway.
"Farmers market attracts record number of patrons." Pierre replied, putting down the paper. "I don't know why I bother getting these anymore."
Krista smiled. "Because you have nothing better to do with your time. No more Nazis to kill, no more buildings to blow up…" How easily these words flowed through her mouth. Two years ago this would have stunned her but now it was nothing. If life had taught her anything, it was to not care.
"Ah, yes. How I miss those days."
Grabbing an apple, Krista sat across from Pierre. "And if we had stayed, we would be done with this by now."
Pierre's smile vanished. "Must you bring this up everyday?"
"Until the Allies come…" She took a bite from her apple. "Yes."
He sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. So we had to wait a few more months to get out but I happen to know that the Allies will be coming here soon."
"Did you not say that last month?" Krista asked as she began to laugh at the expression on Pierre's face.
"I am serious this time. Soon we will be free, those papers of yours will be safe in the hands of the Allied commander and all will be well." Both smiled at the thought of no more running, no more killing, just a normal life. It seemed an impossible dream but ever since the Allies had successfully invaded on the sixth of June, it began to look more real with every day that passed.
"What do you plan on doing once we are 'free'?"
Pierre thought about it a moment. "Well, a little bird told me that Paris was liberated so I must stop in there, visit a few of my close friends."
"Are these friends of yours cabaret dancers?"
"That is beside the point; they are still friends of mine. After that, I think I'll return to St. Lô. There was some nasty fighting around there so I suspect that there is some cleaning that needs to be tended to."
Krista nodded. "I suppose I'll look for my father."
"Do you honestly believe he is still alive?" Though deep down in her heart, she had hope, most of her believed that her father was long gone but she was not about to let Pierre in on that idea.
"Clearly you don't know him." She paused. "It will be strange, won't it? Two years together and we go our separate ways just like that?"
"Well, we don't have to."
Krista rolled her eyes and sighed. She knew this was coming. "Not again Pierre."
"What? I think the idea of marriage is not that bad."
She turned to him, eyes turning a little cold. "It is not bad when both people agree to it. I still happen to wake up in the morning, walk in here and go 'Oh God, it's him.'"
"I happen to know quite a few people who think I am very good looking."
"I never said that you were not good looking."
"So you'll admit I'm handsome?"
"Humble, aren't we?" Pierre just smiled. "No, what I meant was I never said you were ugly but good looks has nothing to do with marriage."
"Then why won't you say yes?"
Krista resisted the urge to chuck the apple at his head. "Well, besides the fact that I don't love you, I just plain can't stand you."
"Now you're hurting my feelings." This time she did chuck the apple, hitting him square between the eyes.
"That's not the only thing that will be hurting." While she watched Pierre swear up a storm, something else caught her attention. She clearly heard what sounded like books dropping; she only knew this because it had happened before.
Krista stood. "Stupid cat. I still don't understand why you keep it."
"Because it annoys you." Sticking her tongue out, Krista ducked just in time for Pierre had tossed the apple back, which uselessly hit against the wall and fell to the floor.
Humming once again, Krista made her way into the living room where a pile of books sat, knocked off the shelf to her left. Picking the books back up, she began to wonder where the cat had gone. It did not really matter for she could never actually catch the thing; it adored Pierre and hated her. One of these days, though, she would exact her revenge.
She placed the books back on the shelf and looked out the window nearby. It was a beautiful, sunny day ending the week's worth of rain they had gotten. Movement below caught her eye. There was a flower box sitting on the window sill. Inside it was a cat, specifically theirs. Fear gripped her heart. If it was not the cat then who…
Something moved behind her. Krista turned around quickly, ready to scream something but she found a hand upon her mouth, stifling any noise she made. They wore a familiar uniform, one she had seen so many times before: SS. Looking up, Krista's eyes widened, not in fear but shock for she knew them.
"Dieter?" Her muffled voice asked. He smiled. For a moment she had not recognized him. His stare was so cold, his smile so cruel. He had become everything their father was against, perhaps for that reason.
"Hello Krista. Long time no see, right?" Her eyes narrowed. She was not going to let him get her so easily. Over the years she had taught herself to hate. Dieter had underestimated her, thinking that the shock was going to keep her still and so she took advantage of it. With all the force she could, Krista drove her knee into his stomach, causing her brother to double over in pain. Never before had she hurt him so much but it did not matter now. She fully believed he would kill her if he had the chance.
"Pierre!" she screamed. This would get his attention. She only hoped that he had some plan in case they ever were found. Krista ran out of the room but immediately found herself facing a loaded pistol. They centered it on her forehead but their hand shook so much that it could not stay there. Unfortunately, at this distance they could not miss. She could run but what would be the point? Death had finally caught up to her.
There was a blur in the background. The pistol went off. Krista fell to the ground, covering herself. Someone had knocked the man over causing the bullet to lodge itself in the wall instead of her head. She looked over. Pierre was beating the man, his blood covering the floor quickly.
"Get out of here!" He shouted at her. "Now Krista!" She heard him but could not move. Something kept her there. Footsteps approached from behind. Her brother had recovered. As Pierre turned to Krista again, he saw and stopped. Krista looked up. Dieter had his pistol aimed at Pierre, ready to fire at any moment. She could have tackled him, hit him, done anything to stop Dieter from firing but this time her brother's assumption was right. Krista did nothing as he pulled back the trigger.
It was the sound that snapped her out of it, not of the gunshot but of Pierre's agonizing scream. She screamed as well as she tried to get up and run to him but Dieter grabbed her. He was so much stronger now. All she could do was struggle against his grip and cry out Pierre's name over and over. A black bag was placed over her head and she screamed louder still, hoping that someone would come now, that someone would help but no one would. They were outnumbered and needed to keep their identities hidden; they all knew it was too late for the two.
Something smashed against her head. Krista fell silent, hitting the floor with a thud. Two years she had been running and now when freedom was so close, so near, fate decided that her time was finally up.
And there is chapter ten. A lot shorter than I had intended but it keeps the story going. The next chapter shall be very emotional so it might take me a bit. Only one more flashback left!