Chapter 16: Death

Basta slept outside, in the hayfield outside of Auleau. Though he was bundled up in a sweater jacket and scarf, he found it hard to fall asleep because he was very cold. When he finally did manage to sleep, though, Basta had dreams about Anna. In some dreams she would be happy to see him, and the terrible awkwardness that had previously been introduced did not exist at all. In other dreams, Anna was angry and would throw objects at him from across Landa's hotel room. Basta awoke shortly after sunrise, only to find little shards of frost collected on his jacket and the hay surrounding him. Shivering, Basta ate baguette for breakfast, but cursed when he realised that he had given all his water to Will. He began the long hike north, hoping he could make better progress than he had yesterday.

As Basta walked, he thought to himself about all the women in his past history. He had only ever been with a total of four girls (well, four that he could remember by name, anyways).

The first was named Mary. She was a soft spoken young lady with tawny hair and rosy cheeks. They had both been fourteen when Basta had kissed her. Mary had said to him: "Basta, your breath is terrible!" And she refused to kiss him until he had nice smelling breath. That was how his obsession with peppermint had started.

The second girl was named Adeline. Basta remembered with a grimace the first girl he had ever slept with. She was- now in retrospect- very poor in bed. She was highly strung and had wild poker straight hair the color of burnt sienna. They had slept together a number of times, from when he was seventeen to nineteen.

The third girl was called Evelyn, the one he had fucked in Capricorn's bedroom. Blonde and 7 years younger than he.

The fourth (and by the looks of it, he thought, last) was Anna. And by far she was the finest of all four girls. Not only did she have exceptional skill in bed, the best physique, and smelled the best, but she had managed to do something none of the other girls had: touch Basta's heart. Basta had a bit of a connection with Adeline, but he mistreated her and shoved her around. He would never shove Anna around.

Walking robotically and guided simply by his feet, Basta came across a sign planted between a number of different branches in the road.

ITALIE, LA SWISSE

Basta didn't know which way to go. The road that took a hard right was labelled ITALIE and the one straight ahead LA SWISSE. Basta figured he would just keep going straight ahead.

It was dusk when Basta found the body.

Lying in the center of the road was a Nazi. It was quite obvious that the handsome young man had been shot in the head. His helmet lay beside him on the road, next to his open hand. Basta was shivering at that point, from the chill in the November air. He stood before the body for quite some time before coming to the decision that he wanted that corpse's jacket. Bending down to unzip the fabric of the field jacket, Basta was over whelmed by the stench that surrounded the body. He gagged, and held his breath as he tugged the jacket off the dead soldier. Stumbling back a few steps and gasping for air, Basta waved the jacket about, flapping it the cold November air. He stared at the corpse a while before shrugging into the jacket. The material was thick and stiff, but kept most of the chill out. Basta stood on the road in his new jacket for quite some time, just staring at the dead body, which was now dressed in fatigues and a dirty white tee shirt. Basta's eyes rested on a gun that was strapped to the soldier's hip. He recognized it as a handgun from the document Landa had given him. Curious, Basta approached the body. He bent down, while squeezing his nostrils shut, and tugged the weapon from the young man's leg. He retreated quickly and examined the cold metal gun that burnt his hands with its chill. It was heavy, and gave Basta a strange feeling to be holding it. Though he had no experience with guns, Basta figured out how to use it very fast. After pulling the top part of the gun backwards, until he heard a click, Basta could pull the trigger and the gun would make a deafening noise and cause his hand to fly backwards. The gun made him nervous, and he didn't particularly like it. He couldn't see the projectile leave the barrel, so he knew it was going very, very fast. He aimed the gun at the soldier's helmet, and pulled the trigger. The helmet made a loud KNOCK Sound, and it jumped in the air before flipping backwards. Basta felt his heart pound faster, and his palms accumulated a great amount of sweat. Curious, he aimed the gun at the dead body. With his finger drifting over the trigger, Basta felt his stomach knot. He wanted to see what the gun would do to the tender flesh of the young man, but he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. His stomach churned at the thought of harming the already dead soldier. He didn't want to ruin it. So, with a shaky sigh, he slipped the gun into his rucksack and padded over to the dead troop. A pair of dead, blue eyes stared up at the fading sky. The young man's mouth was parted, and his perfectly straight teeth looked dry. Basta swept a hand over the young man's dirty face, closing his eyes. The dead soldier's blonde eyelashes rested together. Basta made a face, as the smell of the decaying body was very foul. He figured the young man must have been dead for a day, no more. Basta stepped around the young man, and continued up the path. As he walked away, he wondered if that was the German that had shot Will.

It was dark when Basta came to a slight change in scenery. On the darkened horizon, he saw the black outlines of the Alps. On either side of the road, aspen trees were beginning to grow in scattered bunches, amongst the tall dead grass. The faint sound of popping was slightly audible. Basta didn't know what the sound was. He continued up the dark path, fatigue beginning to take its toll on his muscled legs. Panting slightly, he paused several hours later. The popping sound had gotten louder, and a few sparks flashed in the distant field. As he walked further, he could hear the yelling of men, some screams, and the popping grew louder and louder. Nervous, Basta darted into an aspen thicket, and crouched in the tall grass. He used his rucksack as a pillow, and listened to the popping and screaming until he fell into a light, uneasy sleep.

When Basta awoke, the dawn was as red as blood. The morning was cold, and his jacket was stiff from the frost. Shivering, he got to his feet and brushed the white crystals from his sleeves. Stubble was beginning to show on his jaw, and he felt uncomfortable from his lack of cleanliness. And thirsty. Basta's lips were chapped, and his tongue felt like a dry, foreign object in his mouth. How long has it been since my last sip of water? He wondered, his boots crunching over the frosty grass in the thicket. With the pink sky over his head, and a vast yellow field before him, Basta felt a sense of hopelessness wash over him. Switzerland seemed like an unattainable goal in a future that looked very bleak. As he walked through the field, Basta wrinkled his nose when a sharp metallic smell wafted through the air, along with the scent of burning grass and something he couldn't place. The blades of grass before him began to flatten, and were streaked with red and black. Greasy, blue smoke plumed from the grass, and the sounds of moans of pain became audible. Basta's stomach twisted. He walked on, and saw an army jeep parked in the middle of the field. Several soldiers in American Uniforms were milling about, hauling bodies around.

"HELLO?" He called, when he saw an American holding a big rifle walk towards him. His call caught the attention of several other troops. They all turned to him, their rifles drawn.

"GERMAN?" Called the man closest to him, the rifle held up to his face.

"No, no! I'm British!" Basta held his hands up, then remembered that he was wearing a German jacket.

"You're wearing a German jacket!" Called the young fellow, tromping through the grass towards Basta.

"I'm British! I promise I'm not German." Basta tried to talk, despite his nervousness, to show the American that he spoke with a supposed British accent. The soldier lowered his gun, and stared at Basta from under the visor of his green helmet. He had a small, square chin, and kept his lips parted, showing off glossy and slightly overlapped front teeth.

"What's your name?" Asked the soldier. He was six feet from Basta, and kept his rifle slightly lowered.

"My name is Basta" he said. "I'm not a soldier, I'm on my way to Switzerland."

"Switzerland?" The troop frowned slightly, then shrugged. He lowered his rifle completely and stood before Basta, exuding a sort of confidence Basta had never seen before. The young soldier shifted a bit before nudging his helmet up away from his eyes. Basta caught a peak of the young man's light brown eyebrows. With a start, he realised that the troop looked incredibly similar to Will.

"I was sent by a woman working for the allies" said Basta. He adjusted the weight of his backpack and ran his dry tongue over the roof of his mouth.

"Oh yeah?" The soldier seemed a bit distant, but intent on doing his job. Exhausted, yet energetic, if the combination was possible.

"Do you know William Mackenzie?" asked Basta. A shot in the dark, but the two looked so similar, he figured he would give it a try. The soldier's face changed. His eyes locked on Basta's face. His chin dropped a bit, showing off both rows of teeth. He seemed unable to speak, then finally blurted.

"Yes! He's my brother!" He seemed dumbfounded.

"I found him in a field outside of Auleau." Basta watched the soldier's face change. A thousand emotions ran through the young man's hazel eyes.

"Is he..." the troop's voice trailed off.

"He's been shot." Basta continued carefully. "I carried him from the field to a hospital in Auleau." He thought of the water he had given Will. "He's alive, and the doctors tended to him right away."

"Thank you" said the soldier. He gazed into Basta's eyes with such gratitude that Basta felt uncomfortable. "Thank you so much. How can I ever repay you?"

"Could...could I have some water?" He asked shyly. The soldier standing across from him didn't seem to hear or understand the request, then quickly exclaimed "oh!" and pulled a canteen from his rucksack. He handed it to Basta, who greedily gulped down the cold liquid.

"Are you alright?" asked the soldier, watching as Basta gasped with pleasure as the cold water gushed down his throat.

"Thirsty" he said through gulps "and hungry." He wiped the water from his lips, and handed the canteen back to the troop. "I've been walking for a few days straight.

"No kidding" the soldier replaced the canteen, then gave Basta a good long look. Basta shifted in discomfort, then the soldier spoke. "Thank you very much for saving my brother."

"It was nothing." Basta studied the soldier. He could really see the similarities between the two brothers. Both had light brown hair, and were short in physique. The solder standing in the field, though, had sharper eyes and more crooked teeth. Both were handsome, but the one Basta was speaking to in the field was the better looking of the two. He was obviously older, and his nose wasn't a swollen looking as Will's.

"It wasn't nothing" said the troop. "We're headed to Switzerland, to take our wounded to a hospital. You can tag along too. It's the least I could do."

"That would be wonderful" said Basta, feeling his spirits perk for the first time in a long while. He followed to wiry young man through the tall grass, towards the Jeep.

"My name is Robert, by the way" said the soldier.

"You look a lot like your brother" said Basta awkwardly, glancing around the battle field. Burnt and flattened grass extended for quite a distance, and many bodies lay dead on the yellow grass. American troops were digging graves in the frozen ground, and tossing a dead Germans into them.

"Yeah, I suppose we do." Robert slung the rifle over his shoulder and walked towards the Jeep. "Do you think he'll be ok?" his face showed blatant concern. Basta felt his stomach sink. He didn't want to tell Robert that his little brother was in German hands.

"I think the doctors will take good care of him" he said simply, trying his best to smile.

"I hope they send him home... where was he shot, Basta?" Robert was frowning. His helmet, which was obviously too big for his head, slumped down over his eyes again.

"He was shot in the belly" said Basta, remembering all the blood. He remembered how Will had been convinced that he was going to die. "He seemed to be handling the pain very well." This was true. Will had grit his teeth, moaned in pain, and swore a few times. Though he wasn't at all very optimistic, he managed to avoid bawling and hollering. Or maybe he was just too tired for that. Robert nodded and nudged the brim of his helmet away from his eyes.

"Good" was all he managed to say.

Robert said that they would be moving out when they had buried all the dead Germans. Basta nodded and helped several Americans carry the limp bodies over to the individual graves. He watched as troop after troop was dropped into the frozen ground. Dead faces staring up at the pink and blue sky. It took a few hours, but finally the field was covered with dark brown rectangles. The graves covered the field in no apparent order, and Basta wondered about the families of the young men.

Though he himself didn't have a family, he knew that Capricorn would be disappointed if he heard that his right hand man had been killed in a battle. Basta wondered how Anna would feel if she heard he had been shot. Probably happy he thought bitterly. After what I did to those people, I deserve to die. He climbed into the bed of the jeep with a crowd of American soldiers, and sat beside Will. The jeep bumped over the field then onto the dirt road, driving on towards the Alps.

A/N:

Guys, I am SO sorry it has taken so long to update! I had the craziest weekend EVAR and I've been seriously ill since yesterday. I hope you like to chapter. I'm sorry it's so short. I've just been so busy lately! Thanks for being so patient, and thank you for sending reviews and messages. They make me happy.

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