'There's bullet holes where my compassion used to be, and there is violence in my heart.'

Chapter 7: The Three 'Must-kill-teers'

In this chapter:

· The now complete Basterds

· A wound

· An odd team

· Nazis in a car

Elsie kicked a tin can that had been lying in the middle of the road, sending it rattling out ahead of them. The men turned to look at her, but she was too preoccupied with her own troubled thoughts to notice. She jumped as she heard movement in the bushes to her left, and clicked off her safety, cautiously raising her weapon as she stepped forward to investigate. A bird took flight from among the branches and she let out a breath, flicking the gun's safety back before letting it hang by her side once more. Donny had noticed that she was jumpier since leaving the prison; every snap of a twig, rustle of a leaf, or sudden call from one of the men putting her on edge. As much as he hated to see her like that, he put it down to the physical torture she had confessed to enduring; but only Hugo knew the true extent of her suffering.

The Basterds had been walking for days now without coming across a single enemy, let alone a place to sleep indoors. They had been camping under the stars, which hadn't been so bad with the warmer than average weather they'd been having. It was also a nice way for them to spend a little quality time together as a squad. Hugo wasn't much of a conversationalist, but Elsie enjoyed chatting with the other boys. None of them had asked her about the prison, instead telling her stories about their lives back home, hoping to take her mind off it. Unfortunately these stories only served to remind Elsie of the fact that she no longer had any family. The Basterds were her family now.

It was starting to hit nightfall when they reached the edge of the forest.

"A'right, we'll set up camp here fer tonight," Aldo told them, consulting his map, "Next town ain't much further."

"This is so fucking boring," Hirschberg whined, loud enough for Elsie to hear as he passed by, but not loud enough to be heard by their lieutenant. His number of days without a kill was growing close to a new record. "I need some fucking kraut blood on my hands already." Looking to Elsie as he spoke, he almost ran straight into their newest member. Stiglitz stared down at the short Basterd, his expression cold and emotionless as he smoked a cigarette. Elsie forced back laughter as Hirschberg fumbled for words.

"N-Not you, obviously. I mean, not that you're a kraut..."

Stiglitz nodded in mock-understanding before his eyes flicked to the woman behind them and a playful smirk appeared on his face. Hirschberg followed his gaze and realized he was being made fun of. He stalked off, muttering curses under his breath.

"See. Already making friends," Elsie smiled. The German chuckled.

Aldo watched the two prison escapees interact - the smile on Elsie's face lending him some comfort - then glanced around at the rest of his men. He could see that everyone was starting to feel the drag of walking all day and accomplishing nothing. They were growing restless, with morale dropping fast; and bored soldiers quickly became reckless soldiers. But he had something up his sleeve - a card that he would play as soon as he felt the time was right.

Sackowitz and Utivich were attempting to get a fire started with a stack of kindling and a couple of matches, but their efforts were proving futile. Elsie sat on a log nearby, watching them, amused by their bickering and many failed attempts. Opening up her rucksack, she pulled out a liquid solution to the problem and took a mouthful of it, pausing for the opportune moment. As the boys began to argue once more, she blew a mist of the whiskey onto the dwindling flame, and jerked back as it briefly shot high into the air. Utivich and Sackowitz had jumped clear just in time. She gave a bark of laughter.

Sitting against the tree stump opposite them, Wilhelm smiled, appreciating the entertainment after an otherwise uneventful day; but Donny glanced over with what might have been concern for her sanity.

"Elsie, cut that shit out," Aldo scolded through a mouthful of bread.

"Sorry, sir," she called back to their lieutenant, stifling her giggles. She turned back to Utivich, who stared up at her from where he'd landed, his large eyes still wide with surprise. "Sorry, I couldn't resist," she told him.

Leaning back against a nearby tree, Hugo had a cigarette dangling from his lip, observing Elsie's idea of lending a hand. As he struck a match to light up his smoke, he cast her a glance and said, "It's okay, I've got this myself."

She grinned.

"What's there to eat? I'm stahving," Donny asked Aldo.

"Stale bread, powdered coffee or some rotten apples," Aldo told him, "Take yer pick."

"Three course meal, if ever I heard one," Elsie commented.

All she had with her, aside from her own rations, was the whiskey. If she'd had anything else she would have willingly shared it, but the whiskey was helping to dull the pain in her back.

"You know, the apples aren't so bad if you roast 'em," Hirchberg suggested as he shoved his onto the end of a stick.

Taking a bite of his own and grimacing, Zimmerman replied, "Might cook the worms, at least."

Elsie gave her apple to Donny because, hungry though she was, she never wanted to eat another apple in her life. He offered to trade it for some of his bread, but she declined, stating, "Big guy like you needs all the fuel he can get."

Sitting around the fire, their stomachs a little more content now that they had something in them, each of the men began to drift off to sleep. As usual, it was Elsie and Hugo who remained awake. Elsie had been having trouble getting to sleep since her trips to the basement, and so elected to take watch for the night. Though Hugo had volunteered to join her on the off chance they were stumbled upon by German troops, his really just wanted to keep her company. Looking over at the sleeping figure of Donny, Elsie smiled. Hugo observed her quietly and waited. Sure enough, she walked over and sat down next to him.

"You gettin' bored yet?" she asked him.

"You keep me entertained," he assured her.

She chuckled and offered him the bottle of whiskey, which he accepted gratefully.

"What are we gonna drink to?" she asked, taking the bottle back from him once he'd had a mouthful.

Hugo looked up at the star-filled sky as he thought about it.

"Tomorrow, we kill some Nazis," he decided, speaking to her in German.

"Ja," Elsie agreed, "Sounds good."

She took a long drink from the bottle, toasting to the hope of murder.

Unfortunately, their toast didn't pay out; it was another day of walking without an enemy in sight. Utivich, like most of the others, was beginning to miss the banter between Donny and Elsie that had once been thrown around as they marched. It had kept them entertained during these lulls before combat; a welcome distraction. But that had been before her time in the prison. She walked silently ahead of him now, with Donny close by keeping an eye on her. Stiglitz and Wilhelm walked together on the path, conversing in their native tongue. As the only non-American members of the group, the ex-Nazi and the Austrian-born Jew had managed to find a middle ground. Donny, who loathed the sound of the German language, glanced over at them every now and then, not bothering to mask his distaste.

"Was ist los mit dir?" Elsie asked him with mock concern.

"Don't you fuckin' start," he warned her, but her playful smile was infectious.

Her hand came up to cover the side of her mouth and she whispered, grinning, "You know, I think we've been walking in circles."

"I 'eard that," Aldo called back to her, "Blame Kagan, he's navigator."

Elsie turned and shook her head at the confused looking Basterd, walking backwards as she cradled her gun. "For fuck's sake, Kagan, you had one job."

Mystified, he looked at Omar, but the man just shrugged. Watching all of this, Utivich smiled to himself.

Wilhelm was being careful not to bring up anything about Elsie in his talk with Stiglitz, knowing she was more than capable of understanding every word they were saying. Though he was one of the more perceptive men in the group, he too wanted to know what had happened to her in the prison to make her so…different. During the time she had been with them, she had always seemed so strong emotionally, and although he hadn't seen her in the cell when Donny had discovered her, he could see the experience behind bars had changed her. Whatever had happened, he knew it would have had to have been particularly bad.

He noticed Stiglitz gazing at the girl as she pushed Donny playfully for making fun of her 'poor acting skills'.

"Well, we could've dressed you up in the costume," she was telling him, chuckling at the idea of the enormous Basterd squeezed into the tiny dress.

"Nah, can't fake tits like yours," Donny replied, receiving a hard punch to the arm in return. "What?"

"Asshole."

Wilhelm chuckled at Stiglitz's frown. He clearly wasn't used to this sort of blunt chatter between a man and woman.

"Amerikaner," Wilhelm said, as if that explained it.

"I thought she was French."

Elsie turned to look at them, joining in on the German conversation, "It's kind of an extended vacation."

"Your accent," he pointed out, the reason for his initial belief.

"Cajun," Wilhelm explained. Stiglitz made a face that said he hadn't heard of it.

Wilhelm took out a cigarette, lit it and replied once more, "Amerikaner."

That night, they reached a secluded patch of forest and set up camp. Elsie had begun acting distant again, sitting alone with her back against a tree, smoking a cigarette she had gotten from Hugo. She was still staring into space when she stood up.

"Going to use the facilities, sir," she informed Aldo, toeing out her cigarette.

He glanced up to make sure she was armed, spotting the machine gun hanging by her hip, then gave a nod. The soldiers watched as she walked by, waiting until she was out of earshot to begin their conversation.

"Is she okay, or...?" Utivich asked, as he stoked the campfire with a long branch.

"She was imprisoned by Nazis. They probably tortured her to give away our location. How do you think she is?" Wilhelm replied with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"You think they tortured her? Yeah, I guess that would explain a lot."

Wilhelm didn't reply to this and Utivich turned to look at Donny, but the big man was silent as he stared into the flames. The three men turned their heads in perfect unison to look over at Stiglitz. He glanced up briefly from cleaning his gun, but said nothing.

"But she could walk when we found her, right? So maybe they didn't torture her, you know...too badly?" Utivich considered, wincing at how ridiculous he sounded.

Wilhelm stared at him for a moment, blowing smoke out through his nose, then said, "Probably fucked with her head. Some wounds don't heal so easily."

Utivich turned to look back at Stiglitz once more. Like most of the Basterds, he was still uncertain about the newest addition to the team, but knew that Elsie got along well with the man. He considered asking him for his opinion on the matter, then thought better of it. They sat in silence until a gunshot rang out from somewhere in the woods.

"MOTHERFUCKER!" came a shout.

Metal clinked and barrels locked as the Basterds prepared themselves for a possible incoming threat. Aldo, who had been standing nearby listening to his men talk, raised his hand for them to be still. They waited for a moment in silence, then heard the unmistakable 'thud' of metal hitting skull. Grabbing a couple of flashlights, Aldo signaled for Donny and Stiglitz to follow him, in case he needed either muscle or an interpreter. They moved off to investigate the sounds, leaving their wary brothers behind to await their return.

They weren't sure what to expect, but Donny was already worrying about Elsie. He had recognized the voice behind the expletive, having found himself on the receiving end of it many times before. As they moved deeper into the woods, the thudding noise became louder.

They discovered Elsie clutching her gun in one hand, while her other arm hung limp by her side. She drove her foot into the lifeless body on the ground, stopping her barrage to drop her gun and grab her wounded shoulder.

"God fucking damn it!" she hissed.

"Elsie, what 'appened?" Aldo asked her as he came closer, pointing his flashlight at her.

She turned towards them and they saw that her right coat sleeve, once light brown in color, was now stained dark with blood.

"I went to take a piss, and this fuckin' guy comes out of nowhere and pops me in the shoulder," she explained, the pain fueling her anger.

She winced again and Aldo pointed the flashlight down at the man lying in the dirt. His skull had been smashed in, the bloodied butt of Elsie's gun telling him what with. At least he was wearing a German uniform.

"He was alone?" Aldo asked her.

"Scout, I think," Elsie managed to reply. Aldo glanced back towards the camp, able to make out the glow of the fire even at this distance. The town must have been closer than he thought.

Donny stepped towards her to get a better look at the wound, grabbing her coat lapel to pull it aside. She slapped his hand away.

"You 'right to walk?" he asked her.

"They shot me in the shoulder, not the knee, genius," she replied.

Then, as if to answer Donny's question more accurately, she fell to her knees, fast becoming weak from the combination of blood-loss and malnutrition. Donny rolled his eyes and went to her aid, as did Hugo, who swung his gun around his back and bent down to help her up. Careful not to aggravate her wound more than was necessary, Donny lifted her to her feet. Instead of carrying her - which he knew would have pissed her off even in her weakened state - he put an arm around her waist to keep her upright. She held onto him with her good hand and began the steady trek back towards the camp.

The others were still on edge as they returned; ears and eyes pricked for any sign of incoming enemies. As they caught sight of Elsie's wound, they lowered their weapons.

"Orders, sir?" Kagan asked, staring off in the direction they had come from.

"A scout, already taken care of. I want you and Sackowitz on a perimeter sweep. Utivich, get some dirt on that fire," Aldo ordered, "We might 'ave company."

Donny helped Elsie onto a low rock ledge and looked around for someone who knew how to deal with wounds.

"Tell me we have a medic," she said to them.

"Wicki!" Aldo called.

"I thought he was our interpreter?"

Aldo turned back to her with his hands on his hips, "Man o' many talents."

"What about you, huh?" she asked Donny, "You don't treat wounds, you just cause them?"

"You got that right." He glanced at her bleeding shoulder, then back at her pale face and his expression grew worried, "How you doin'? You hangin' in there?"

"It's not too bad. I've had insults from you that stung worse."

He grinned and turned to find Wilhelm approaching, closely followed by the remaining men. The campfire had since been put out, and the only light they had now was that of their flashlights and the moon above.

Elsie had broken into a cold sweat and was shivering by the time they carefully removed her coat and cut a slit in her shirt. Somehow, throughout the whole process, she managed to remain calm, cracking jokes as if everything was fine.

"You know that saying, 'One day you're gonna get caught with your pants down'?" Elsie asked, "It's true."

"Is she going into shock?" Hugo asked Utivich, who was standing beside him.

"No, that's just Elsie," Utivich assured him, as he watched Wilhelm examine the bullet hole. Aldo stood behind the makeshift medic, pointing a flashlight at the area.

"We're going to need pliers or something to get the bullet out," Wilhelm told them, taking a drag from his cigarette. They stared back blankly.

"A pocket knife?" he asked them.

Donny pulled out the same knife Elsie had used to carve into his bat, flicking out the small blade and handing it to him, but the wounded woman shook her head.

"Fuck no," she told him, taking a deep breath, "Just use your fingers, I don't care."

Wilhelm regarded her face, then the wound and nodded. Hugo left Utivich's side and Elsie watched him make his way to her bag, rifling through the contents.

"Can't you at least wait until I'm dead before you loot my stuff?" she joked, breathing in sharply as Wilhelm touched the area around the wound.

Hugo made his way to the front of the group and presented her with her bottle of whiskey.

"You never cease to surprise me," she smiled. She waited until he had unscrewed the cap, and then took the bottle from him, indulging in a quick mouthful of the burning drink before passing it Wilhelm. He tipped some onto his hands and rubbed them together like a doctor preparing for surgery

"Ready?"

She took a deep breath, gave him a determined look and nodded.

"One. Two. Three," Wilhelm counted down. Then he stuck his fingers into the wound, searching as quickly as he could for the bullet.

Elsie let out a cry of pain, her hand going to Donny's forearm and squeezing hard as he stared down at her with concern. The other Basterds looked on with sympathetic expressions, but only their sergeant wished he were in her place so that she wouldn't have to endure this.

She let out a string of German profanities that made Hugo and Wilhelm glance up in surprise.

"She's speakin' in tongues!" Donny attempted to joke, but she was in no mood for it, letting go of his forearm to slap him in the chest.

"Shut the fuck up, Donowitz!" she wheezed.

She bit back a scream as Wilhelm dragged out the bullet.

"Done," he told her, and she blew out a sigh of relief.

"Aw, whatta ya gonna name it, Else?" Donny joked again, attempting to take her mind off the pain. He was alarmed at how pale she was becoming.

"Give it here," she said, and Wilhelm made to pass her the bullet. She looked at him like he was mad.

"Not the bullet, the booze!" she told him, "What am I gonna do? Make a fucking necklace out of it?"

Nothing but the sheer amount of pain she was in could make her talk that way to the man who had only ever looked out for her best interests. He passed her back the whiskey and allowed her a small sip before pulling it from her grip. She shot him a look.

"You've lost a lot of blood," he reasoned with her, "Alcohol's not a good idea."

After a resigned nod she finally began to relax. Wilhelm took a capful of the alcohol and poured it onto the gaping wound, soothing her in German as she grit her teeth to stifle any further cursing.

When the pain had finally subsided, she looked up at him with a sheepish expression. "Sorry for yelling at you."

"I would have been more concerned if you hadn't," he told her with a forgiving smile, "Where did you pick up that colorful language anyway?"

"Let's just say 'Henker' wasn't the only thing the Germans called me," she replied and he chuckled.

She slid down off of the rock with a little help from Donny, and gave a hiss of pain, reaching for her back.

"What's wrong?" Donny asked, eyes full of concern.

She turned to reveal the long, red stripes staining through her top from her reopened wounds. "Is it bleeding?" she asked. The men stared, realization dawning on them.

"We'll get you patched up," Wilhelm reassured her, glancing from Donny to their lieutenant. The other Basterds took this as their cue to leave, giving the girl some privacy, but Donny lingered. He turned his back to them as she started unbuttoning her shirt. A moment later he heard Aldo curse. It was the first time he had seen the true extent of what she had endured during her imprisonment. Wilhelm could only stare, too stunned to speak.

"Have you cleaned these?" Donny heard Wilhelm ask her, and she replied in the affirmative. He felt tempted to peek over his shoulder, wondering what could have stirred such a vocal reaction from his lieutenant, but instead kept still and listened.

"Why didn't ya tell me, Else?" Aldo asked in a hushed voice.

"It's not a big deal."

"Ain't a big- Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?"

"What difference would it make? We gonna kill every Nazi twice?" she asked.

Donny smirked. There was a moment of silence as the two Southerners stared at each other, arms folded and equally stubborn. Then Aldo pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, gesturing to her back.

"A'right. Get 'er patched up, Wicki. You reckon you'll be feelin' up to the march tomorra?"

"I'll try my darnedest, sir," she replied, "If not, I'm sure I can piggyback on Donny."

Sensing her gaze once again, he risked a glance back at her, grinning. The humor fell from his face as he finally saw the damage that had been inflicted on her. He turned back and Elsie watched his whole body tense with rage.

"Have we got some gauze in one of the bags?" Wilhelm asked, and Aldo nodded, heading off to grab it.

As soon as she was bandaged up and dressed again, Elsie attempted to move away, if only to escape the mixed look of guilt and concern that Aldo kept throwing her. Taking a few tentative steps towards her gear, her head began to spin.

"I gotcha," Donny chuckled, catching her just in time.

She hissed as a sharp pain coursed through her shoulder, then turned back to the men who had helped her, managing to thank them. They both gave a nod, exchanging looks once her back was turned.

"How ya feeling there, ma'am?" Donny asked her, as they made their way back to their gear.

"Besides having next to no blood in me, standing half-naked in front of men I consider family, and having a bullet ripped out of me, I'm fan-freakin'-tastic," she told him. He stood by as she slowly lowered herself down next to her rucksack, then crouched in front of her with a thoughtful smile. Lightheaded as she was, she could sense something unusual about his mood.

"You know, I'm always gonna be here for ya, whether you like it or not," he whispered, looking up to catch her gaze.

Unsure if it was the blood loss, the exhaustion, or the unexpected moment of affection from the biggest man in the squad, Elsie suddenly felt choked up.

"Donowitz, you're gonna make me cry," she told him, trying and failing to sound sarcastic. He plonked down beside her and pulled her into a careful, lopsided half-hug. Pulling back to look her, he caught the genuine tears threatening to spill and touched a hand to her chin, looking her in the eye.

"Quick, call me an 'asshole' or something, or your tough gal act's gonna be blown."

She pushed his hand away and punched him, cursing as pain ripped through her other shoulder and he laughed.

"You're gonna be blown," she muttered, a horrible attempt at an insult in her half-drunken state. He threw her a look, but rather than pick her up on the unintended innuendo, took pity on her instead. He reached over to his belongings and pulled out his leather coat, tossing it over her.

"Sleep tight, princess," he chuckled.

"Fuck you," she replied, but feeling more comfortable with the extra layer of warmth added, "Thanks."

"There it is." This time his smile was genuine.

Hugo watched this exchange between the two Basterds, completely unnoticed from his seat against the log, puffing away thoughtfully on his cigarette. Although he didn't entirely understand the relationship they shared, he couldn't help but wonder just how far it went.

A week later the Basterds were trudging along a dirt road when Aldo raised his hand. The bored-looking troops nearly missed the signal, they hadn't seen it in so long. They moved to a position behind the trees, out of view of the German soldiers up ahead and looked to their lieutenant for orders. He seemed to be considering their next move. The small patrol was walking towards them, chattering away among themselves, completely unaware of what awaited them up ahead. Aldo looked to Donny, Hugo and Elsie, gave them a nod and gestured with his head towards the approaching men. Elsie noticed those who hadn't been chosen looked devastated; they were all dying to reduce their debts.

The team of three waited for the soldiers to pass by before creeping out of their hiding places and reaching the road behind their unsuspecting victims. Elsie found that she was able to hold a gun fairly steadily despite her recent wound, though it had initially taken some getting used to. Luckily, it had only been a flesh wound and was healing quickly, but it would be a few months before she would be able to use it at full capacity.

Without a word, the Basterds open fired into the backs of the Nazi troops. The three men fell to the ground, dead.

"A'right, put them uniforms on and go see what's waitin' fer us up ahead," Aldo told them, stepping out from the woods. He glanced at Elsie, recalling the last time he'd sent her out dressed in costume, and added, "Else, you don't gotta-"

"I've got this," she assured him, and he gave a reluctant nod.

"They stink like krauts," Donny commented as he tugged on the pants and jacket that were a little snug on his large frame.

"Really?" Elsie replied with sarcasm, finding she had the opposite problem in terms of sizing; the clothes were much too big for her.

Stiglitz waited patiently by the side of the road, already dressed for the little game. As a final 'fuck you' to the German army - aside from his constant role in decreasing its numbers - he had taken back his original uniform from the storage vault in the prison. Since his captors had bothered to keep it, he had guessed that the plan had been for him to wear it when he was marched through the streets of Berlin as an example of what happened to those who opposed Hitler's regime. He planned on being a very different kind of example to the people of Germany.

Despite her previous experience with playing dress ups and fooling Nazis, Elsie led the way down the path, ears pricked for any sound of approaching enemies. Sure enough, it wasn't long before they heard the crunch of wheels on gravel as a vehicle approached their position. They looked at each other, smirked and came to an expressionless halt in the center of the road.

The German soldiers were having a pleasant trip; laughing and chatting about the town they had just taken, swapping stories about its accommodating brothel and the even more accommodating women. They spotted three soldiers standing in the middle of the road up ahead and their laughter died down. The trio looked like a patrol guarding the only route into the town, but then they had never been informed of any such patrol. The driver continued on anyway, ignoring his first instinct to turn back, and brought the car to a stop, smiling at them. Noticing one was a pretty young woman, he smiled even more. She didn't smile back.

"What brings you all the way out here?" he asked in a friendly manner.

Donny, Hugo and Elsie paused, then open fired on the car - Donny with clear anger, Hugo and Elsie without expression.

It was as easy as ABC: Absolute Bloody Carnage.

When the job was finished, Donny and Hugo led the way back to the squad, with Elsie walking behind them deep in thought. Her mind had gone back to her dash towards the Nazi outpost, her last costumed escapade, and the results of her participation. Her heart beat hard in her chest as she imagined her attacker making a second appearance. With her grip tightening on her weapon, she picked up her pace. Looking up at the two men in front of her, she felt safer knowing they would have her back in an instant should she suddenly find herself in a bad situation. Spotting the bloody bullet-holes in the back of Donny's jacket, she smiled. Hugo looked back at her to see why she wasn't keeping up, and she gave a nod much like the ones he had given her back in the prison. He gazed at her for a moment, then gave a little smile in return. And he wasn't even a smiling kind of guy.