I wrote this while on security detail at work. For some reason it's a lot scarier being at work at night haha, especially when someone is supposed to be sneaking around attempting to cause harm (hence the security detail). So have a little fear inspired Rizzles! I apologise for the late update, I haven't forgotten this story I've just been insanely busy with work and university and family things.
Badr is Frost, in case anyone hasn't realised that yet.
Maura's breath caught in her chest and she paused, one hand on the slimy trench wall, the other clenched tight around the gas mask at her hip. She thought she heard … never mind. With a deep breath she carried on, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other. It took a lot of concentration to walk on the duckboards in the dark. An inch or two either side and she would fall into the thick, soupy mud. Men had drowned in the Flanders mud.
Behind her staggered a small column of stretcher-bearers, following Maura Indian file through the dog-legged trench. Above her howled a veritable tempest of hot lead and screaming shells. The Germans had opened up one of their signature barrages, intending to do damage to the low-lying British trench system. So far it was working pretty well. Maura had to change direction several times when she discovered that a sap she had come through an hour ago was now destroyed. Her crocodile tail of soldiers grew in numbers as freshly wounded men realised she was a nurse and joined the ranks.
There was no open light in the trenches, and Maura carried no lantern for fear of snipers, but they didn't need it anyway. The cacophony above provided them with plenty of ambient light from explosions and Verys, and Maura kept trailing her hand on the parapet so that she never felt lost. As long as her fingers were on the earth she felt safe. It was only when the trench wall was split by a communication sap that she panicked, fingers groping wildly in the air until they alighted once more in cold mud. Sometimes the gap wasn't because of another trench. Sometimes the gaping hole was the result of a destroyed section of the wall. Maura would have a split second to recognise this and duck back to halt her train of men, before carefully deciding how to bypass without risk of being shot. At one point the wall was so badly damaged they were completely exposed and Maura had to usher the wounded across in the seconds between shell blasts. It took half an hour to negotiate this hazard but Maura didn't lose a single man.
Sometime near three in the morning, just as the barrage began to intensify, Maura and her impressive collection reached the field ambulances. Someone began to loudly direct the men and Maura recognised Jane's distinctive deep, rasping voice. She beelined for her and began to help load stretcher cases into Jane and Badr's vehicle. Badr had the engine running, which was a waste of gas but with the shells beginning to fall even harder Maura knew every second counted. Soon the ambulance was full.
"Jane, you can go!" Maura yelled over the roar of a shell bursting nearby. Shrapnel peppered the roof of the truck. Maura felt a piece ping off her head and counted her blessings that it was just a stray.
"They're not loaded yet!" Jane replied.
"It's alright, I can keep loading them. Badr is ready to go!"
"No! You go, I'm staying!" Jane replied, dashing off to help lift men into another ambulance. Maura swore.
"Badr, go!" she shouted, waving her hand in case he couldn't hear her. He fixed her with a puzzled look. " GO!"
Badr hit the accelerator and his ambulance lurched onto the roadway, joining a column of trucks slowly wending their way back to the town. Maura turned and ran to find Jane. She had to dodge around walking wounded. Some reached out for her, but she directed them to medics, intent on locating Jane. After a few frantic minutes of searching she found Jane arranging a line of walking wounded, telling them to hold the tunics of the men in front then directing them onto the roadway beside the ambulances.
Maura grabbed her by the arm. "We have to leave!" she yelled. "It's too dangerous!"
"No!" Jane shouted in reply, brown eyes blazing. "They can't leave, why should I?"
"But Jane -"
"No!"
Jane wrenched her arm out of Maura's grip and ran back towards the trenches. For a split second Maura's weight shifted onto the balls of her feet, ready to tip into motion. But then her brain caught up with her instincts and reined them back in. She threw one last despairing look at the trench entrance, praying to spot Jane's white cap in the torrent of men. But then she tore her gaze away and ran to catch a ride back.
"She's a bloody idiot."
"Yeah, well, she's a lucky idiot."
"Lucky I haven't skinned her alive."
Maura and Korsak watched, arms folded, as the officer reached to pin the medal to Jane's uniform, smiling coyly beneath his yardbrush moustache as his fingers brushed her breast. Jane didn't meet his eye, but Maura saw a muscle twitch in her jaw.
The officer saluted Jane, who returned the gesture half-heartedly. His gaze slid past the nurse to the entrance of the station tent. Something akin to fear brimmed in his watery blue eyes, then he adjusted his spectacles with his smart calf-skin gloves, nodded once in Korsak's direction, and returned to the staff car he'd arrived in. The driver, who had left the engine running, pulled out straight into the path of a line of mules and chugged off in the direction of the main road.
Maura pivoted to return to the tent, but Korsak caught her elbow. She stopped and turned to look at him.
"I got the word," he said, not meeting her gaze but staring off towards the front. "It starts next week."
The hairs on Maura's nape stiffened and she felt a sudden chill descend. "Next week?" she replied quietly.
Korsak nodded. "They're pushing forward near Messines. HQ wanted us to relocate to Plugstreet* but I told them we we had a better system here. We'll need all hands, though. I expect they'll send a fair bit of traffic this way once the guts of it is underway."
"I knew it was too good to last," Maura said, referring to the relatively quiet year they'd had. She wasn't looking forward to the influx of broken men they'd be receiving from the north in the coming days. Korsak shot her a tight-lipped smile and ducked back into the station. Jane was struggling to light a cigarette in the wind, still standing where the officer had left her. The medal bounced against her chest as she struck a second match, cussing as it fizzed out. Maura watched her for a moment, too lost in thought to realise how long her gaze lingered on the muscles cording in Jane's browned neck. Then she spun on her heel and went back to work.
* Plugstreet - Slang for Ploegsteert, a wooded area between Armentieres and Messines.