I sighed deeply and stood up, stretching my back as I did so. The day had been long, made longer from the lack of sleep I had been suffering from. I groaned as I made my way out of the quarantine tent and breathed the cool air deeply forcing myself not to gag on the smell of rotting, burning flesh. I watched the townspeople with indifference as they walked past, some with shovels in hand. The officers had forced them to come in and clean up the camp in an effort to make the living conditions more suitable until better ones could be found for the liberated persons.
"How could they not notice the smell?" Lip asked as he came up beside me. I shrugged.
"I'm sure they could smell it, but what could they do?" He looked at me. "Had they said or done anything against this place or the Gestapo that ran it, they would have ended up dead or worse, a prisoner here themselves."
"They could have told us the moment we entered the city what was here." He replied.
"They should have, but you also have to think that these people have been taught to be terrified of any military presence. It's a fine line, Lip. I'm not defending them, but I can't just out and out condemn them either. You're a God fearing man so you believe they'll face their judgment one day, isn't that enough?"
"You don't believe in God, do you?" he asked.
"I'm open to the idea, but I'm not going to live my life as if it is dictated by some invisible presence," I shrugged. "If I'm going to be forced to live this shit filled life, I'm going to live it the way I want."
"And if there's no God then what punishment will these people get?" he asked, more curious than anything.
"They have to live with knowing they could have done something to help these people but chose to turn a blind eye to their suffering. Living with this is going to be so much harder than dying for it."
Lip shook his head and slapped my back.
"If only we could all be as forgiving as you are, Benny." We watched as Webster shoved passed the baker, causing the old German to fall to the ground.
"It takes a lot of practice, Lip." I shrugged.
I hit my fist against the wall and watched as the blood seeped from the broken skin. The physical pain was much easier to deal with then the emotional. I sat alone in my temporary quarters as the day turned into night. But the scene of the past day kept playing over and over in my head. I saw the children I had tried to comfort slowly die in my arms over and over again. I wanted revenge, I wanted to kill. Blood filled my mouth as I continuously bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out in rage and sorrow.
I picked up a book from my desk and hurled it against the wall, leaving a dent in the crumbling clay. The pages flew open and spilled the contents hidden within. Treasures of no importance to anyone but myself spilled like secrets from a mouth. I walked over and gathered them, pictures of my brother and I with our father, my mother cradling me as an infant, my Opa spinning an eight year old version of me around in circles as my Oma looked on and laughed. Then there was one taken just before I left for my tour. It was one of my father and I meeting with my grandfather in his full ceremonial regalia. He presented me and my father with an eagle feather, a symbol of the warriors that stood strong in a tribe of peaceful people. I placed the pictures back into the book and found the feather. I ran my fingers over the soft down of the bicolored plume. Light and dark, peace and war, life and death, the story of life written on the wings of creature that traversed both worlds.
I sat down in the center of the room and closed my eyes, listening to the steady drum of my heart as I twirled the feather in my fingers. I breathed deep the air, filling my lung and holding it in as I cleared my thoughts. I exhaled, expelling all the bad thoughts and pent up anger within me. I had to go on, and the only way to do that was to forgive… even if I could never forget.
"Holding on to that much hate and anger just kills you from the inside out." I imparted, pulling out of my revelry. I felt the eyes of the newly anointed lieutenant as they bore into me, studying me as if I were a strange species he had never encountered before.
"When'd you get so smart, Benny?" I shrugged nonchalantly. "Why do I get the feeling you're holding something back?"
"I have to get back to work, typhus isn't going to cure itself." I redirected as I walked away from Lip over to the supply crate and grabbed as much penicillin as I could handle before I made my way back to the quarantine tents.
"Sgt. Benally." I turned to find Speirs standing behind me, his ability to sneak up on me still intact.
"Sir." I greeted. He raised his eyebrow at me before grabbing a few of the bottles from my overfilled arms.
"Thank you, sir." I nodded and ducked into the first tent as he followed with the vials. I walked up to the medic who had been watching over the men and handed him a few of the small glass containers filled with life saving medicine. As I instructed him on the proper dosing instructions the young man kept stealing sideways glances at my Captain, forcing me to repeat myself more than once. One glare from said Captain had the medic to diverting his attentions from the imposing man to me and I was able to finally relay the instructions to the corporal who wrote then down word for word. Satisfied, I turned and left the tent before making my way over to the next one, giving the same instructions as Speirs silently trailed along with me. I grinned as I took the medicine bottles from his arms, the medic unwilling to come near him as we reached the final quarantine tent.
"Is there anything I can do?" Speirs asked.
"Yeah," I paused as we exited the tent and turned towards him, nearly colliding with his chest, he followed so close behind me. I grabbed onto his shoulder to keep myself upright as I lost balance at the same time his hand grabbed my forearm to do the same.
"Are you alright, Sergeant?" He asked, his eyes betraying no emotion as I dropped my hand from him and took a quick step back.
"Fine, sir. Just wasn't expecting you to be following that close." I raised an eyebrow, a motion he mirrored before clearing my throat. "Right, I… what was I saying?"
"You were about to tell me what I could do to help." He the corner of his mouth twitched.
"Help… yes…" I breathed deep, trying to remember what I was going to have him do. "Oh, yes. Their clothes, they need to be burned."
"Burned?"
"Yeah, typhus is spread by lice."
"Lice."
"Yes, lice. The men have been cleaned, but their clothes just need to be burned. We've scavenged what we can from the village and the Colonel has promised to bring more. We need to burn everything that could be infected with lice… probably away from the camp is best."
"Anything else?"
"No… Yes! Whoever does it needs to make sure they are protected so that lice can't infect them. Arms, legs, necks and head, all covered." I added. He nodded in affirmation.
"How do you know all of this?" He asked and a momentary shiver of panic shot down my spine as I tried to explain.
"I'm an A+ student?" I copped out. He rolled his eyes and produced two cigarettes from his pocket, offering one to me. I smiled as I took it.
"You're full of shit, Sgt. Benally." He replied lighting the tobacco and inhaling deep. I tucked mine behind my ear for a later.
"So I've been told, sir." I retorted.
He shook his head and walked off towards the townspeople, no doubt finding them to be more suited to the task I had asked of him then our own men. I grinned as I watched him walk off, thinking about the rather unusual friendship we had struck up. He was the one man I knew who would send me home for sure should he found out my secret, yet I found myself growing more and more comfortable around him. It was the mark of a good leader, even when danger is lurking in the shadows, he made you feel safe. Even if said danger was him.
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"You need anything, Jo?" I looked up from the man I was treating straight into the concerned blue-grey eyes of Doc Roe.
"Nah, I'm okay. Thanks." I nodded and padded my patient's shoulder before standing up and stretching my back.
"How's everything goin'?" I asked.
"Good," he shrugged. "Your infection control seems ta be workin' well," he pointed to the tents. "Da Major's got food comin' in." I nodded.
"What about finding these men anywhere to go?" I asked and shrugged in response.
"Don' know yet." He grabbed my arm, forcing me to turn and look him in the eyes. "How are ya?"
"Fine, Gene." I smiled as I turned to leave, but he stopped me once again.
"You're not fine," he stressed. "You can talk ta me."
"I know, Gene." I sighed and covered his hand with my smaller one and squeezed it tightly. "Thank you." He nodded and our connected hands dropped. We walked together, observing the small world that existed around us in the camp.
"That dream you had…" Gene began.
"What about it?" I snapped, knowing this conversation was coming but not looking forward to it. "Sorry," I amended at his raised eyebrows. "Not much sleep."
"Did ja get any last night?" he asked in concern.
"A bit," I lied even though I knew he would see right through me.
"Come on, Jo," he sighed in frustration and played with the frayed ends of his coat sleeves. "After everything we've been through, don' you trust me?"
"It's not a question of trust, Gene," he gave me a look. "It's not. I trust you with my life."
"Then why won' you tell me what's botherin' ya?" He asked softly. "Because I know it's not jus 'bout dis."
"Because," I stopped, as did he. I regarded his eyes that were so soft and caring, so eager to heal, but I knew, what I had seen and been through couldn't be healed by him. I was too damaged. "My burdens are my own, Gene."
He was quiet for a moment as he mulled over what I had said. His sharp eyes roamed over me in the same way I had seen them roam over a wounded man or a sick patient. He was trying to find some way to help me, to heal me, to ease the pain that he could see constricting me from the inside out.
"Ya know," He began, his eyes finding mine once more. "Ya don't have ta carry the weight alone. I can help ya, da same way you helped me; if you'll let me."
"You do help me, Gene." I smile gently. "More than you can possibly know." His face lit up slightly, a smile curving along his lips. "But this, this I have to deal with on my own. Alright?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "A'right." I squeezed his shoulder briefly.
"Thank you."
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I sat with my head resting against my folded knees, dozing slightly as the days and sleepless nights finally collected their toll. The quiet roar of the world around me lulled me into a state between sleep and wake, where every sound added to my foggy dystopia, the icy fingers of a nightmarish land moments from having me in its grips.
"JoJo!" a hand slapped my back, startling me back into reality. I slowly raised my head to peeked my eyes open at the grinning face of my best friend.
"Heya George." I sighed deeply and rubbed my eyes. "Great timing, as always," I mumbled as the stars cleared from my vision.
"What?" He narrowed his eyes at me.
"Never mind," I smiled. "What's up?"
"I thought you might need some coffee." He sat down next to me, his shoulder against mine.
"I would kill for some coffee." I groaned.
"Now, now, no need to get homicidal." He laughed. "Here it comes."
I looked over and saw a young boy bringing over two steaming cups a large grin threatening to split his face in two. I glanced over at George, my eyebrow raised.
"Here'a go." The boy voiced in slightly broken English.
"Danka." I replied.
"Thanks kid." George rubbed his stubbled head. The kid bared a wide, gapped toothed grin at us before running off towards a group of Easy men. I turned towards my friend my eyebrow still cocked in silent question.
"What?" he shrugged. I took a gulp of my coffee and balanced the warm tin on my knee, my gaze still cutting across to George.
"Fine! He's a kid from the camp," he explained. "Me and the fellas figured since he's speaks English pretty well and all, he could, you know, run errands around town for us. Get 'em outta this place for a while. "
My gaze left my best friend and moved to track the young boy as he laughed at the group of men he stood with. They chuckled and took turns rubbing his head 'for luck' I heard one shout.
"You know," a small smile played at my lips, "You ain't so bad." I looked at him as he grinned in delight. "For a lug head."
"Hey!"
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AN: In the book it briefly mentions that Luz and the guys took a kid from the camp and let him run errands for them, they treated him like a little brother.
Sorry this took so long to get out. Being a responsible adult sucks… I want to be a stupid kid again.
Thank you everyone for the reviews, I am sorry I haven't thanked everyone individually yet. I will try and get around to it soon! I promise!
-Amanda
Thank you to the anonymous reviews, Ulrika, Ophelia, RestlessSon, Guest, LittleSweetheart, anon, Kat1132, verena, thatch, NayNay, and Nernst for your reviews! I promise I will get to the non-anon reviews as soon as I can!
Revised 8/7/17