To say that working with men injured by the ubermensch was a learning experience would be a gross understatement. In the short time that she had been dealing with wounds caused by the distortion halo Leah had seen that they defied most modern medical knowledge. Sometimes even all pretense of rationality as well.
The patients of the new ward could be divided into three groups. Firstly there were those who had not been directly injured by exposure to a distortion but still suffered injuries due to being in the vicinity of one. Temporary or permanent loss of vision was the predominant ailment for that group. Their presence was more of a precaution to make sure that no lingering effects cropped up later.
The second type of patient had either touched a distortion or the energy that was given off by them. Leah still was not entirely clear how it worked, the men spoke of balls of light with little bolts of lighting arcing into their surroundings. Either way the results appeared like a burn at first glance. Closer inspection revealed that the skin had actually been melded with tissue below it, the fat, muscle and nerve all the way down to the bone in some cases. For some of the patients it was excruciatingly painful while for others it was perfectly comfortable other than the warped appearance. In almost all cases no matter how bad the damage the limb was still functional, if not in the same manner it had been originally.
Then there was the final group, whose injuries were truly bizarre.
Leah was holding the tip of a feather near the 'arm' of one of those patients, a soldier named Michael. From shoulder to wrist his arm looked normal save for a few distortion marks along it. Past the wrist was another story entirely. Michael had been holding on to a rifle when the distortion grazed him. His hand had now become one with the wooden stock. It was difficult to tell exactly where the flesh ended and the wood began.
"And now?" Leah asked as she lightly touched the feather to what appeared to be completely wood. Michael had been blindfolded so they could test just how much feeling he retained.
"It's about five inches down from my wrist, on the bottom side." Michael replied. So far he had been shown to have full feeling throughout his new stump. This had initially been discovered when a surgeon in the field had attempted to amputate what should have been an unfeeling foreign object. Michael's screams had been enough for them to abandon the attempt until a closer examination could be conducted.
"Remarkable, simply remarkable," Doctor Haverly added as he finished marking the findings down. "This narrows our options but I still believe that we should be able to remove most of the, shall we say additional matter, so long as you are under anaesthesia."
"Get me a bottle of something strong and a carpenter and I'll save you the time. Just whittle it down a bit until it can hold a glass and it'll give me something to show off down at the pub!" Compared to most Michael was taking his disfigurement with good humour. It gave Leah hope for his recovery.
"Well I shan't make any promises," Haverly looked at Leah where she waited holding onto the feather. "That will be all for now Nurse Cohen, thank you."
Before Leah left she patted Michael on the shoulder. It was good to be able to help someone. God only knew that she could hardly help herself.
Ever since her outburst at Deborah life at home had become even worse than before. Deborah had hardly spoken two words to her since the incident, no matter how Leah had apologized. Their father had remained silent and even more absent than unusual. Leah would have thought that he had suppressed all memory of the night except that he had clearly told Mother, who had cornered Leah the next morning. They had not had a conversation per se, as that would have required Leah to be able to get a word in, but Suzanne had managed to tearfully list off the many reasons why Leah could not possibly move out on her own right now. Most of them had to do with how busy Suzanne was herself and if Leah were not there to take care of things then who would? Afterwards Leah had promised that she would not consider moving out for a year or two.
It was deeply unsatisfying but Leah asked herself what other choice did she have? Her whole life had been devoted to putting the needs of others ahead of her own, another few years of doing so would not hurt.
Pushing thoughts of her home life aside Leah refocused on her work. As strange as the new ward could be it still represented stability. She knew how to help make men whole again no matter how they had been broken.
Not everyone was so simple as Michael. He was content to joke about his new oddity of an arm. Others were in far worse spirits and condition.
A few men had take more direct hits from distortions. Not straight on of course, no one survived those. Leah would have wagered that they would have gladly traded a wooden arm for the twisted mess that they had been left with. Veins and arteries pulled to the surface where they threatened to rupture with little force, muscle and bone twisted in ways that defied anatomy. That was the truly maddening part of all this. The distortions forced natural patterns into new artificial ones with little connection between incidents. Still Leah was certain that with time and enough patients the doctors would be able to reason it all out.
The mental injuries had not changed at all and were as difficult to treat as ever. Leah had never been anywhere near a battlefield but she had heard many stories. Artillery literally tearing men apart as it rained from the sky and machine guns cutting down anyone foolish enough to expose themselves. One thing that every patient so far had agreed on was that the distortions were even worse. Particularly those made by the Battleship Sieglinde. Only two men here had survived an encounter with her. Both told of red skeletons left slumped against walls as their flesh pooled onto the ground and men melded into whatever they had been using for cover. It was so nightmarish that Leah could only hope it was an exaggeration brought on by shock. But given the atrocities that had been carried out so far she feared that this was just the latest bit of human decency to be sacrificed on the altar of war.
Heading back towards the nursing station Leah checked in on one of the survivors of Sieglinde. Dennis was worryingly quiet most days. Much like Micheal he had been struck by part of a distortion while holding something, though in his case rather than a rifle it had been another man. Leah had not managed to get the full story from him but with the little he had mentioned she could surmise that the other man had been a friend. Sitting up in bed Dennis kept his eyes downcast, his remaining hand moving up and down along the bandaged stump where the surgeons had separated the fused pair. Only Dennis had survived the operation. Looking closely Leah could see spots of fresh blood on the bandages.
"Dennis, may I see?" Leah asked softly, causing the soldier to give a start as he realized someone else was there. When he saw her looking he jerked his hand away from the stump.
"Its nothing. Just itches sometimes." Dennis, not meeting Leah's eyes.
Gently she took his stump to check the dressing. Sure enough it looked as though he had been picking at it for a while now. It would need to be changed.
"I'll go get some fresh bandages and see if we can do something to make it more comfortable. Alright?" Holding on to Dennis's injured arm Leah was able to get him to glance up for a moment as he nodded. A small step, but every step forward took him closer to recovery.
The only thing with small steps was that they took time and that seemed like it might run out any moment now. All Leah could do was keep on striding ahead. Small steps, she reminded herself, be strong.
It was all so easy in her head. If only it could be that way in the real world.
Maria's unit had chosen a small field under a hill to make camp in. From the hill the lookouts could see anything happening in the surrounding area and would hopefully be able to alert the tanks below before too much damage could be done by an attack. Any German tankman wandering this way would be in for an unpleasant surprise. All of the armour crews were running on little sleep and had twitchy fingers.
So far it had all just been an unpleasant pain in the ass for Maria. Being the premier sniper of the unit she had been assigned sentry duty every night of the retreat so far. Long, cold nights spent searching for the feared sparks of blue out in the dark did not make for a happy sniper.
Maria was good and she made sure that everyone knew it. But a shot at a target the size of her palm, in the dark at this distance? It would be a miracle. Best she would be able to do was make sure that there was plenty of warning for those sleeping down below. Such as dear Lev, whose warm body would have been a great comfort to Maria as she lay there hidden in the bushes. Soon enough she would be able to enjoy him again.
Though the cold did not worry her now so much as how the days were warming. Mud was beginning to replace snow in more places than not. Spring would be upon them soon and that would make any further retreat even more of a fiasco. Things had already been mucked up too much as it was for fate to add actual muck to the works. Not that they could change the weather. Maybe if they got their own gods one day.
There had been attempts to gather the main forces at the rail heads to whisk the bulk of the army back to where they could prepare a proper defence. A lot of effort had gone into putting out screens of men and tanks to protect these movements. Most of those men would have had to remain behind too, to slow down the German advance. Not that it had worked at all. The Battleship had ended up dancing around those forces to wreak havoc on the staging areas themselves. Casualties had been enough to abandon the idea for now. No major gathering of men was possible so long as they were within reach of one of the infernal German god-men.
Siegfried. It was a name that every man and woman in the army had grown to loathe. There was another Sieg-something making life hell to the south but for now that was not Maria's problem. She was just counting down the days until she got a visit from the grinning angel of death. He had been delayed so long that she almost hoped that they would really be able to escape his clutches. This area had been quiet so far. Only a bit further and they would be far enough into Poland to consider trying for the railways again.
Looking onto the camp below Maria was worried about how much noisy clanking metal had been gathered here. Tanks, artillery guns, rocket launchers, everything that the Germans were rushing to destroy could be found in the camp. The men throughout were there just as guards mostly. Machines were expensive to replace after all. Also in most cases these were the only things that could actually kill a German tankman so it made sense to try and protect them. Even Maria could agree with it and she generally had little positive to say about the stinking engines.
The sun was starting to peek over the next hill. Soon enough Maria's watch would be over and she would be able to stumble back into the camp, down a ration of vodka and pass out in the back of a truck. All she had to do was keep awake for the next hour or so. Her relief would be here soon enough. Then they would be moving, another step back towards home. Until they stopped again for some silly reason.
That was when she spotted him. A too tall silhouette cresting the hill with the sunrise at his back. For a moment Maria thought it might have been another of the sentries but the speed with which the man moved convinced her otherwise. At least the idiot was making a good target for her.
Putting her eye up to the scope Maria focused on the man. With the light at his back she could hardly make out his features, other than that he was blonde. Not much of anything to go by. Aiming as close to his head as she could Maria waited for the telltale blue light. It was the only time that a normal bullet could take one of these monsters down.
As the lightning poured from the man's eyes Maria's finger moved to the trigger. The idiot must have thought he would pick off a tank or two on the outskirts before running away. If Maria had any luck she would save the Germans having to care for such a stupid man. It might have been her imagination but she could swear that he was smiling.
Just before Maria's finger tightened on the trigger the light devoured her world.
Clamping her eyes shut Maria found herself blinded by that terrible light. The afterimages floated across the inside of her eyelids as screams and the sounds of explosions drifted up towards her ears. Every muscle in Maria's body froze. Her finger trembled a hairsbreadth away from the trigger, so stiff it might as well have been carved from stone. She dared not fire as this was no tankman. It was the Battleship.
It felt like an eternity as the light flashed and the horrible roar arose from the camp. Then it was over. The only light remaining was that of the rising sun and silence was only pierced by scattered screams and cries for help. Hidden away on the hill Maria was still frozen in place.
Shut up shut up shut up, Maria shouted at the men below with her thoughts. Quiet, or he might come back. Just be quiet!
The Battleship had to be gone by now but Maria dare not open her eyes. She feared if she did that he would be standing right in front of her, just waiting for the moment to strike.
When she finally did part her eyelids ever so slightly there was no one in front of her. Opening them more fully she was relieved that at least there was no permanent damaged to her vision. Taking the smallest breaths that she could Maria began to scan the surrounding area, moving as little as possible in case the Battleship was still somewhere out there waiting for any stragglers to reveal themselves. First with her eyes and then through her scope she was able to find no sign of the man. It was only then that Maria dared to look at the camp below.
There was little left other than a great scar marring the landscape. Barely any sign of the tanks or other machines save a few of the supply trucks towards the rear and even those were all split open and thrown about. Even less sign of the tents where the soldiers had been sleeping. Just like that almost everyone that Maria knew was dead. Again, Maria thought before beating that voice back down into the depths.
As Maria forced her stiff limbs to move she realized that she had pissed herself during the attack. Not that it mattered much now. Getting up to a crouch Maria carefully left her nest, rifle clutched tightly in her hands as if it could offer some kind of protection. Making her way down the hill she tried to present as small a target as possible. By the time she reached the outskirts of the camp Maria rose up. It was clear now that the German had done his dirty work and then left. The mess that he had created was like nothing that Maria had ever seen.
It was the smell that got to her first. Blood and burned flesh and shit all mixed together. Pulling her shirt up over her nose Maria entered the ruins. The smell still pierced through the sweat-soaked fabric but it was not near so bad. There was no chance that Lev or Pyotr had survived but she felt compelled to go and look for them all the same. They would have done it for her.
There were strange piles of sticks everywhere surrounded by pools of red mud. Looking closer at the first one that she passed Maria recoiled in horror. Not sticks. Bones. Each man reduced to a sad puddle. That was where the stench was coming from. Choosing her steps carefully Maria steered clear of the little red rivers that were starting to trickle along. Some of the ground had been turned into long twisted roots that felt like stone when she put her boot on them. Rough as they were to walk on they kept Maria's feet far from the gore. Maria continued to the heart of the camp, where the ground had been turned entirely to the strange hard substance. This was where her friends would have been.
Finally Maria's legs gave out from under her and she fell to her knees. Her hands lost their grip on her rifle and let it fall as well. Maria lost her grip on her thoughts soon after. It was not fair. They were all supposed to go together. She had promised herself that they would all go together this time. Not like when mama had left her, then her brothers, then papa at last laying there holding her hand as he choked on his own breath and they had left her why had they left her why why why.
The dark things that Maria struggled to keep chained up deep inside of her broke free. All semblance of reasonable thought left her mind as her pain and fear consumed her. Fear of being left alone. Memories of what had happened the last time she had been alone, what she had done to survive and what had been done to her. Ragged cries tore from Maria's throat as she knelt there sobbing amid the ruins of her life.
Until her right hand clenched into a fist and slowly rose up on its own accord. Suddenly, viciously, Maria struck herself across the face. Once, twice, then again and again until the repeated blows left her cheek raw and bleeding. Crying like a stupid little baby. Stop it! The sudden burst of violence cleared her mind.
"Survive." She growled to herself. Things had been worse before. Then she had only been a child, helpless and alone. Even if she was alone now she was no child. The scars that she bore proved that.
What to do. There was only one real answer to that. She could not even remember her family's names but she could remember watching them waste away from hunger and disease. Those were intangible things that could not be fought or killed. While the god who had done this might have been as untouchable those around him were not.
"Kill. Kill them all. Kill every last fucking German!" Maria shouted. Her tears had stopped now. No more feeling sorry for herself. There was killing to be done.
Picking up her rifle Maria made her way to the wrecks of the supply trucks. Crazy as she was she knew that if she went off on her own without supplies then the only one who would be dying would be her. She needed to find another unit so she could rejoin the fight.
There were a few men at the trucks already. Some must have been on the very outskirts of the camp, the others were a couple of the scouts. Maria knew as soon as she looked into their eyes that they would be of no help to her. They looked broken. All they would do now was run. She kept her distance from them and they from her. Neither party wanted anything to do with the other.
Tearing through the broken crates and bins Maria was able to fill a pack with the most essential supplies. Food and ammunition, fresh water. Her hand hovered over a bottle of liquor she found for a moment before leaving it. Getting drunk would only serve to dull her pain and Maria wanted nothing of the sort. With the pack as full as she was able to carry Maria walked towards the road. She began to move alongside it, where she could still see anyone moving on it without being seen herself. Other units had passed this way. If she moved quickly she should be able to catch one of them.
They had gone into the wolf's den and paid dearly for it. Maria swore that the same would happen to the wolves.
It's going to be a beautiful day, Markus thought to himself as he left the wreckage of the Soviet camp behind. If only there had been enough time to really enjoy himself tearing that miserable place apart. He had been given strict orders, by both Himmler and the Leader, to do as much damage as possible as quickly as possible. That meant relying on the halo even if closing to melee was far more satisfying.
Looking around at the melting snow Markus was relieved that winter was finally coming to an end. Spring was his favourite time of year and it would make the remaining campaign against the eastern mongrels all that much more enjoyable. Hopefully the mud would dry up soon as it made a terrible mess on his boots.
Heading back to his escort Markus scooped up a handful of snow and compressed it into a ball. Soon as he came into sight of them he wound up his arm and sent it whizzing past one of the men. Not straight at the man of course, no need to kill anyone on his own side. Still the force of it caused the man to drop to the ground as the others scrambled for cover. It must have sounded close enough to a projectile that they thought the Soviets were upon them. Once they noticed Markus approaching and laughing they got back onto their feet. Even with his enhanced hearing Markus could not quite catch what some of the men muttered to themselves. Such a surly bunch at times. Who could not be overjoyed to be here on the battlefield, securing the future of the German race?
Getting into the truck Markus looked at the map of the other targets he was to hit today. He could scarcely wait until his maturation was complete. Given what he could accomplish with a window of under four hours it would be marvellous when he had the full eight at his disposal. By then they should have finished crushing the Soviets and it would be time for the more delicate work that Himmler had discussed with him. Things that would take an iron will and constitution. A fine soldier Werner may have been but he was lacking when it came to devotion to the cause. Klaudia was a woman and hardly suited for that kind of work. Only Markus could be relied upon for it. That was why he had already become the Leader's favourite. As they drove along Markus realized that he had been wrong. It was not going to be a beautiful day, it was going to be a beautiful year.