Note: In the first part of the chapter "Bold Itallic" is the present time, what is happening in this moment. Only "Itallic"are the thoughts.

Warning: AU –Second World War

M-Rated!Contains coarse language, violent imaginary related to the context of war, and sex.

I do not own South Park. I do not own anything. I wish I was that f* genius!

I run as fast as I can.

And while I do, past memories flash quickly in my mind. They take me back to the day the monster of Dachau came to our work field section. I will never forget the moment I saw the violin. I would recognize it anywhere. Kyle's violin. Clean, intact and looking new. And this horrible Nazi was holding it like if it was some kind of treasure. He asked for its owner. And then I told him it was Kyle's.

I cried that evening. Because dad had been furious and had scolded me, accusing me of endangering Kyle. I know he didn't mean to make me cry, because I know he was dead scared about Kyle. Just like I was when I didn't see him return that evening. I don't know why or how…Call it sixth sense if you want. I somehow knew Herr Cartman did not wish to hurt the violinist he searched for. I somehow had the feeling he questioned the violin's owner, not because he wanted to punish that person, but because he actually needed somebody to play it. Otherwise, why would he be so careful while handling the violin?

I slept badly that night. Alone and cold. I missed Kyle's protective arm around me, his soft breathing behind my ear, the warmth his skin emanated. I slept badly, scared for my brother's safety. But then again, something told me he was all right. That he was okay.

I run as fast as my legs allow me.

I have very little time.

That morning Kyle hadn't returned yet. Dad did not utter a word. He didn't tell me off anymore. He didn't look angry anymore. He was pale, his eyes nervous and I regretted by the minute for having denounced my brother. But then Kyle returned at lunch. He was okay, alive and unharmed. He laughed when he saw me, but later on he cried. Not because he had been hurt, but because he had had a great time. Strange how good things can hurt more than bad things.

Later that evening I apologized him for putting him in trouble. Kyle said the same sort of things as dad had said. Things like being unwise and dangerous. He told me to never repeat such a thing. He made me promise I would never do such a thing.

But right now I'm breaking that promise.

I'm doing the unwise and dangerous thing.

But I know it's the right thing to do.

The only thing to do.

Kyle told me about that night. We laid together on the bed and he murmured in my ears how wonderful it had felt to be immersed in warm water with perfumed foam. He reminded me of how wonderful bread with butter tasted. He told me which compositions he played and I kind of remember most of them. He told me about a kind boy with a broken finger, another boy curious and enthusiastic about his music and a lovely girl that loved to know about his past. He told me in the end, he was glad I had told the truth to Herr Cartman, because even if it had been risky, even if he cried afterwards because it hurt losing your old life for a second time, it had been all worth-while. The wrong action proved to be the right one. The reason I know this is a risk I have to take.

So I keep on running.

As fast as the wind, jumping between the trenches, hidden from any soldier's eyes.

And I praise God for being so short.

Then suddenly the episode of the selection displays in front of my eyes. I still can hear Kyle's horrified screams. The way he fought to reach father, even after being hit by a guard. How I watched him being dragged away, struggling and cursing to get free. I remember thinking I was going to lose my brother and father at the same day. Then Herr Cartman stomped in the middle of the naked men and, for some miraculous reason, he ripped dad from the bad line. We had been both surprised with the monster's mistake. And realized, the evening Kyle returned, it had not really been a mistake. Kyle looked awful. He was even paler and thinner than before. His eyes sockets were deep and dark. But he was not hurt. And he was smiling happily at me. He laughed when he hugged me and dad.

Herr Cartman had saved Kyle and dad. I don't know why. I know my father doesn't know it either. I overheard him asking Kyle what truly happened that night he was away. I heard him pressuring Kyle to answer. But all my brother said was that nothing more happened than he had already told. Dad had called him a liar. And I know how Kyle hates being called as such. I know how much he hates lies and liars. But I had to agree with dad. It was obvious he was hiding something from us. He had a secret. One he shared with Herr Cartman. And whatever this secret was, if it saved him once, it could save him twice.

Finally!

I can see the distinctive large figure of the most terrifying Nazi of Dachau, far away.

After his return, Kyle went to work again with me and dad at the stone grove. A new bodies' fetcher had been already appointed to replace him during his six days of absence. Apparently it made no difference if it was Kyle or somebody else doing it. I was glad! Because Kyle was with us now, at all times. But Kyle hated it, because now he could not see mom again. And he worries a lot about mom. She probably thinks he's dead now.

My chest hurts, my lungs burn, my throat is dry and my legs are heavy.

But I never stop running.

Not until I reach him.

It's funny how things can change dramatically. Herr Cartman never picked on Kyle ever again after his imprisonment. Just like Kyle complains less about the Nazi. They tolerate each other now. I would swear sometimes they even switch brief glances. Like if they are communicating wordlessly. I think it's just my imagination. But I'm also so sure it has to do with the secret they share. It had to do with whatever happened that night Kyle was away. I might be young, but I'm not stupid. Because something had to happen to change these two enemies' behavior so radically.

I reached him! I hide myself in a trench just below Herr Cartman. I'm panting wildly, my heart is about to explode and I can feel the sweat drops slide down my head. But I'm happy, because I succeeded in reaching him. I make a psssst sound and wait expectantly. He turns around. First I see surprise. Then shock. He recognized me. And suddenly I see fear in his face. He knows I bring bad news.

"Please help him." I say in a low voice. "Kyle is dying!"

Herr Cartman becomes instantly pale.

And I wonder what happened that night. I wonder what their secret is. I wonder what happened for the monster of Dachau to suddenly care so much about a Jew.

…

Never in his life had Herr Cartman ran as fast as he did in that hot afternoon. He followed the dark haired child, who guided him between the trenches. The fat Nazi was shocked to realize they travelled invisible through the shortcuts the boy led him in. He didn't even know these paths existed in the camp. The kid proved to be smart enough to choose wisely the paths that avoided other Nazis. Nobody saw them. And this bothered Herr Cartman.

I seriously have to check on this later. Before I know there will be Jews escaping from the camp through these paths. The fat Nazi thought to himself. But right now, he had something much more important in his mind. That damn red haired Jewrat that he simply couldn't get out of his head.

They finally ran down a small hill and Herr Cartman's heart sunk. His eyes recognized the red color in the middle of the dark ground. Kyle was lying on the foot of the hill, motionless, clearly unconscious. He came closer and saw a very sick Kyle. His eyes were half open, his face as white as a sheet and he was breading heavily.

"What's the matter with him?" Herr Cartman asked worriedly. He placed the back of his hand on Kyle's forehead and realized he was burning.

"Kyle got really sick after last week's storm." Ike answered, his eyes scared and pleading.

Ike's memories returned to that critical afternoon. The temperatures of the past weeks had been unusually hot, even for the month of July. Folk called it a heat wave. Every day the sun shined mercilessly bright and hot. It dried out everything, the ground was barren, hard and starting to show cracks everywhere. Despite the great heat, the heavy work was carried out, even during the hottest hours. Many prisoners died. They collapsed from the heat, from dehydration, from the heavy labor. The Nazi's mocked the Jews, as they sat on comfortable chairs, under umbrellas, bare chested and drinking plenty of water.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a strong wind started blowing. It became stronger and colder by the minute. The Nazi's umbrellas were ripped away and everybody was startled by the sudden wind's force. The Jews continued working, but were mystified by the strange wind. They welcomed it for cooling down the hot air. Suddenly a Nazi shouted something and pointed at the sky, far away. Everybody stopped with what they were doing. Jews and Nazi's stared perplexed at the strange sky that moved in their direction.

Most people gasped terrified. A great mass of thick dark clouds moved in their direction. They brought with them fierce winds, now icy and powerful. The Nazi's quickly dressed their shirts and coats, while the Jews wrapped their arms around their bodies. Ike and Kyle heard their father shout something to them, but they couldn't make out his words. He was just a few meters away, but the howling wind muffed his voice, just like it did all other sounds.

Ike never had such a vision in his life. The enormous mass of black clouds was brought by the cold wind, making them travel fast and swift in their direction. Soon the dark clouds covered the sky above them completely, so day became night. Everybody was silenced. All men stared petrified at the strange threatening sky. Ike was scared and grabbed himself to Kyle seeking protection. Kyle wrapped his arms around his little brother while looking up at the sky.

A great white light flashed across the sky and was shortly followed by the frightening roar of thunder. A thick icy drop fell on Kyle's face. And then another one fell, and another and another. Before they knew, it was pouring with rain. The water fell hard and cold and soon everybody was soaked. There was a moment Ike thought it strange this water hurt his skin. He felt Kyle shift to cover better his body and Ike realized the water had transformed itself in small icy grains. He watched horrified as hail covered the dried soil, which became in a surprisingly fast tempo, increasingly white. There was more flash and lighting. The thunder was so hard it felt like the sky was going to fall down on them. Even though, Ike's body was partially covered by Kyle's, he still could feel the lashing pain on his skin. He was terrified and screamed of fear. But his scream was mute, as the wind, thunder and hail created a tremendous noise. Hail turned back into water. It was still icy, but at least it didn't hurt anymore.

The angry storm only lasted minutes, but it felt like an eternity. And then, as quickly as it came, the strong winds and harsh rain stopped. The thunder died out and the dark clouds dissipated. The world became still and quiet again. The wind weakened until it became nothing but a chilly breeze. The dark clouds made way for the sun so its rays stretched out from behind a thin curtain. It happened so suddenly, it was as if the storm had never happened. The only remains of its presence were the wet ground and the cold air. The unbearable heat was gone, the temperature had decreased drastically.

That night Ike woke up from his brother's coughing.

"Go lay with dad." Kyle had said "I don't want to you to catch my cold."

Ike had thought Kyle was exaggerating. He discarded the cold, believing it was nothing serious. Still, he obeyed his older brother. The following days, Kyle worked like everybody else. But, like many other Jews, his cough got worse day by day. Gerald Broflovski had tried to smuggle in some medicine, for Kyle became increasingly weaker and sicker. He had witnessed the few last days, sickened Jews like his son, collapse and never stand up again. Pneumonia, some said. But this time, luck was against him. Mr. Broflovski was caught and punished with 20 lashes on his back. Soon, Kyle had the fever. He became restless in his sleep, crying and moaning from strange images and dreams his mind produced.

Even thought, the horrible heat had died out, it was still hot. It became a more arduous task to work feeling weakened, thirsty and dizzy under the merciless sun. Both Ike and his father were surprised with Kyle's endurance. He continued working without a word of complaint for another three long extenuating days. But by the fourth day, Kyle was struggling to stand on his weakened legs. He breathed with difficulty, his lungs demanding more air. The fevers that came and went, made the world spin. He kept on going with the hard work, until his mind was too worn out to even remember why he was moving. The world spun faster, the air was stolen from his lungs, his limbs became jelly. Kyle collapsed still half conscious, all his unfocussed eyes saw were black dots quickly multiplying, until everything became plain black

Mr. Broflovski and Ike stared terrified and feared the worse. Ike was the first one to react. He ran quickly to his brother, while his father looked nervously in the Nazis' direction. They hadn't noticed the child's violation. With a pounding heart, Gerald Broflovski broke the stones, while he watched Ike push Kyle's body down the hill and run after him altogether. And prayed for God to have mercy in both his sons' souls.

Ike ran down the small hill until he was at the foot of it. Kyle laid unconscious. His eyes were closed, but his was breathing. He positioned Kyle with his back to the ground and watched his chest rise and fall faster than normal. Kyle looked so pale. The child placed his hand on his brother's forehead and knew the fever was high. He needed to do something. Kyle didn't have much time. Without any medical care, he was doomed to die right there, at the bottom of this small hill. Ike needed to think fast. And then he knew what needed to be done. There was only one person that could save his brother. And so he ran and ran until he found him.

Ike was now staring anxiously at Herr Cartman. The Nazi had just felt his brother's temperature, stared at him for moments thoughtfully and sighed. He turned to face the child.

"Do you know how to get to the forest without being noticed?" Herr Cartman finally asked.

A/N

The storm was inspired on a real happening, the sudden storm this summer at a beach in Russia, they even put short films on You Tube.

This is of course one of the many increasingly extreme storms our planet has been suffering the last decade. Whether is our fault or it's a natural phase from the planet, it's a fact nobody can deny. Climate is truly changing. Extremely and rapidly.