Chapter Twenty-Two
Geboren Um Zu Leben
"I have one more thing for you, Alice."
She watched nervously as he stepped to the gun on the ground and handed it back to her, holding the end so Alice could take the gun.
He handed her a black square like piece of metal. When she took it, she noticed bullets inside it.
"Push it in the bottom of the gun."
She did, though her hands moved through an unknown force.
"Alright. There you have a loaded gun."
"W-Wait-Wait!" she stuttered. "I-I-I've no clue how this thing works, how to aim, how to shoot-"
"Before you shoot, turn this safety switch. You shot me, which says you can shoot when having no other option," he said with simplicity.
She was reminded of that moment. She had pulled that the trigger back and her aim had been close by his chest. If that gun had been loaded, he would've been dead.
"Would you have stopped me? If the gun had been loaded I mean. You wouldn't have let me shoot you? Would you have...stopped me?"
"Of course," he said. "I do not have a death wish, if that's what you mean."
She nodded, muttering, "Good. Good."
"You really did change your mind about wanting me dead," he said, as if only believing it just now.
She gave him an angry look, saying, "I wanted you dead because I thought you're the bad guy. But you're not."
"I killed your loved ones," he reminded her.
"With immunity, right?"
They stared at each other hard, both not willing to give away a single piece of emotion.
"You believe I have immunity?" he asked sharply.
"American immunity," she corrected. "You're obviously on an important mission. When the war is over and say I wanted to sue you in a court of law for the death of my friends, your immunity will save you from murder. The American immunity, which is granted only to highly professional military men, who work undercover to gain information from the dark side. They're allowed to kill fellow American men, women and children, to keep the mission alive. If you have such immunity, it means, really, that you're the good guy. If you have-"
He stepped forward and placed one long finger on her lips. She felt her breath hitch.
"Shut up, Miss Brandon, you hear? Shut up."
"Am I right?" she asked instead, her lips moving against his finger.
"Shut the fuck up."
He narrowed his eyes as Alice was not fazed by his cruel words.
"Are you from Texas?"
His hand dropped and he looked at her with several emotions setting free on his face. She saw a hint of shock, which was followed by fright, only to be replaced with anger and frustration.
"You speak with a funny accent."
He barked out a laugh, the anger and frustration in his eyes vanishing at those innocent words said by the young woman before him.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't say all those things," he said with a straight face which he seemed to have difficulties with maintaining.
"Because I'm right?"
"No," he said too harshly and too quickly. "Drop it."
She smiled, looking away. Alice knew now for sure that he was the good guy, with immunity.
"I'll drop it, but I want to say just one more thing. Then I'll drop it, okay?"
He looked away, but didn't seem to stop her.
"You slipped," she said carefully. "You weren't supposed to kill Nazi, especially not for me. You weren't allowed to speak English, but you did. You slipped, but nobody needs to know. You're only a man after all. Not a machine. And, I think you're alone in this war. Like I am now. Of course you have technology and navigation and phones, but it's never the same as a face to face conversation."
His head turned and she instantly caught the warning look in his eyes.
She stepped back with her eyes on the ground.
"Don't you dare die from the infection now," she said with a tremble in her voice.
After that, she found a chair in the corner of the room, which gave her great view of the bed and the front door. She sat in it, brought her legs up, hugged them with one hand, while holding the gun in her free hand as it rested on her stomach.
She watched how he put on back his clothes, while his eyes were on her, obviously not caring he was dressing in front of a woman.
Or actually a girl.
A young one.
"It's Jasper," he said as he sat on the bed. "My name is Jasper Hale."
Alice smiled a little at him, but she felt also grim. He might just be giving her name, because he knew if he went to sleep, he might never wake up.
"Dan-keh," she said in again her awkward way.
He watched her with a scowl.
"Danke," he said fluently. "It's one word. Danke."
"Oh...danke," she tried again, looking away nervously.
"Bitte schön, Alice," he said.
She turned confused eyes to him.
"You're very welcome," he translated.
"Goodnight," she told him quietly, feeling a little pleased that he wasn't too upset with her probing and guessing.
He nodded, while watching her skeptically.
Jasper lied down on the bed and surprisingly, fell asleep quite fast.
She heard two beeps, one coming from her watch and one from a distance from Jasper's watch. It was seven o'clock. She glanced at the display repeatedly. Her eyes also shifted between Jasper on the bed and the front door, sending eerie sounds caused by the wind. It unnerved her to not know if it was the wind or a possible intruder.
Either way, she held the gun close to her.