"I deem you capable of all evil, therefore I expect good from you." - Friedrich Nietzsche
"…and I had made him this bracelet, one with five black beads, each one representing him, then me, my sister, and my mommy and my daddy," a small hand opened to show the bracelet laid in the palm, "and I wanted to give it to him, so that he'd remember me, and so that he'd come back."
"That's very sweet of you, Leah," Kate complimented the little girl, giving her a warm smile, "I'm sure your brother would be happy to have something like that."
Marsh then glanced over to her partner, Max, who was busy speaking with the Quartermaster and his associates about the order given to them by Dr. Neumann. Another call for volunteers to do munition-runs to the frontline units had brought the two early-risers to the Two Whales Diner, which had been renovated into a forward position and supply depot. Cases of equipment and ammunition that were brought in from the harbor and from Blackwell ended up here, with other quantities supplying the southern line from their own designated positions.
However, the Diner's purpose served more than just the militia. Families that were unable to escape Arkadia by boat found themselves trapped inside the town, and gathered themselves in shelters and buildings to avoid the Reds' excessive bombardment. The fathers and brothers were pressed to fight, whilst the mothers, the children, and the elderly were left to await the return of their loved ones, if only so they could leave as a family unit and flee to the south.
Such was it for the Alderson family, whose circumstances as long-time residents in the town's north forced them from their home and left them stranded here, waiting for the chance to leave. Erik, the father, along with the first-born son, James, had gone off to join the militia in repelling the Reds; they left the mother, Lisa, and their two younger daughters, Leah and Anna, to seek protection far away from the fight. The family settled at the Diner in a booth of their own, in between another family and some resting militiamen on opposite sides.
All of this was explained to Kate through her brief conversation with Leah, the second youngest. A shy girl Leah was, with her single braid of dirty blonde hair and deep blue eyes. The baby fat had yet to fade from her cheeks, and when in thought, she would balance on one foot and sway back and forth. The little girl was skilled with crafts, and had made bracelets for her family before the fires spread—and these bracelets carried within them the good luck that would see Leah's family through such hardship. Leah believed it so, and clung to that belief's promise, that her father and older brother would come back once they'd beaten the Reds.
Kate believed it as well. For to doubt such convictions instilled with the enthusiasm of a child was to doubt the spirit that carried humanity forwards through time. It was something that could not be done, no matter how cynical one might become.
"…Katie."
Marsh turned her attention back, "Yes, dear?"
"Could…could you please help me give this to my brother?" so then Leah gifted her the bracelet. It was a desperate gesture, for Kate knew nothing of who Leah's brother was and what he looked like, but she could not refuse the little girl.
Leah reminded her too much of her own younger sister, Lynn, who Kate had not spoken to for a long time, not since the beginning of these troubles. To reject Leah's request was to reject the same request that Lynn would ask a kind stranger if Kate was beyond her reach, to find and be made sure that Kate would survive and return back home.
So, Marsh promised to Leah as if she were her own flesh and blood, "I will." She carefully stowed the bracelet in a spare pouch on her kit, and waved goodbye to little Leah, hoping to return with good fortune.
The blonde then trekked over to Caulfield, who had finished her talks with the Quartermaster. The countertop separated the Angels and the logistics-men, and on this countertop the supplies were passed on.
"Hey, we've got to carry all these cans here," Max gestured to the four green, steel-box ammo cans on the counter in front of them. The two Angels wasted no time in taking these heavy cans and moving for the exit.
It was once they set out, down Main Street and into the shadow of the fog that idle conversation started up again.
"…hey, Kate."
"Yes, Max?"
"Who was it that you were talking to, back there?"
"It was this little girl and her family, Leah's her name," Marsh supplied to her friend, "Her father and brother are somewhere on the frontline, and she'd asked me to help give her brother a bracelet she made."
"Aw, that's sweet—" but Max had to double-take, and looked back, "Wait, what?"
"I'm sorry, Max," Kate assuaged, "but I couldn't help myself. She reminded me too much of my little sister. I don't expect you to follow me, if that's what you're worried of—"
Max took the time to express herself by setting down one of the ammo cans in her hand, and then giving her blonde companion a bop to the chest-plate, the mousy brunette's voice cocky and assertive, "As if I'd pass up an opportunity to help you. All you needed to do was ask!"
Kate chuckled, embarrassed. She should've known there was no remorse to be had when honoring good deeds.
"C'mon, let's go," Max picked up her ammo can and marched forwards, into the fog. Kate followed after, their silhouettes disappearing into the grey.
"…I could go for some tea."
Kate glanced back curiously, for she feared that her own desires were too obvious to see, "Come again?"
"I could go for some tea," Max anxiously repeated, keeping her voice low to not attract attention, "Or some coffee. Some coffee sounds really good right now."
The brunette was sat upon her helmet, using it as an impromptu seat to avoid the mud of the trench. She adjusted her spot on this stahlhelm for the third time this minute, her leg bouncing erratically. Kate frowned at the visible signs of caffeine withdrawals, and chose to finish her breakfast: a protein bar and some fruit snacks. Lunch was supposed to be steak with mashed potatoes, and many were willing to forego a decent breakfast for a better lunch ration.
But coffee was already making itself scarce. Between the officers pulling all-nighters and caffeine addicts hoarding as much coffee as they can, the amount left to spare dwindled at a significant rate. It meant the priority to getting coffee—and by extension, other luxury goods not in large quantities—went to those who needed it most, and everyone else was to deal with it as best they could.
Even Kate, patient as she was, thought longingly to her tea packets and kettle that were left behind in her dorm room. But to think of one's wants without any way to obtain them was to wallow senselessly in grief, and Kate could not accept such a terrible circumstance, not when there was work to be done, promises to be fulfilled—
There was the sound of chuckling off to their right, further down the trench. Marsh glanced over to a gaggle of militiamen, a single box sat in the midst of them and upon it the source of merriment: an assortment of cards. Someone had played a winning hand, much to the loser's chagrin.
Mud, dried and wet, clung to the bottom of the mens' boots. One could tell how long a militiaman had been in the lines by how muddy his boots were. Rotations out of the line offered the opportunity to return one's hygiene to tolerable standards, and this included cleaning one's boots of mud. But some men aren't given this opportunity, and they become the most insufferable to be around. The mud and the fighting makes them twitchy, erratic; men are turned to animals which are then turned into beasts, identifiable by their hunched backs and scraggly, unkempt hair.
It is why Max and Kate found themselves reluctant to be in the presence of these militiamen. They were not afraid of them, but the discomfort of the militiamen's presence—their twitchy hands, their far-seeing eyes, their rancid smell and jokes—this was what stayed the girls.
And yet…
"…Max."
"Yeah?"
"Do you think one of them might be Leah's brother?" Kate gestured to the gathering of militia.
Max gave them a once-over, and sighed, "Maybe. I'm not sure whether they're Arkadian or otherwise, it's hard to tell."
"We'll have to ask, then," Kate finished the last of her breakfast, and stuffed the trash in a spare pocket, "Who knows, maybe they're nice to be around?"
"That's a lot of trust you're placing on them," Max jested, but she followed right behind her friend as they made their way over to the commotion. Another round of cards was in play, and the girls approached right as the final card decided the game, a round of jubilation fell upon their ears.
It started with the man opposite to them, who noticed them first. The noise died out as one by one, the men turned towards the newcomers. Their brows furrowed in bewilderment at the sight of the girls' steel helmets, clean boots and field kit. The rifles slung over their shoulders caught more glances than anything else.
"Excuse me," Kate started, "We're looking for a man by the name of James Alderson. Have you seen him, do you know where he might be?"
They hesitated to respond. It could be said that they were struck by disbelief, to witness the sight of the Angels in their trench. A foul and dangerous domain these men lived in, and this presence of danger was usually enough to ward off any person that wished to retain their life and sanity. But here, in the sight of them stood two examples of insanity, with their wide eyes and soft features. The girls were opposites of these militiamen, no matter the same rationale for their being here.
"…there ain't no James here," one of them spoke, "an' I haven't heard of the name Alderson. But you'd probably find them amongst the company over there," and this soldier pointed to the passage in the trench that would take them east, further down the line, "That's where most the reinforcements 'ave been goin', since all the fightin's taking place there. Be careful, there's all kinds of danger."
Determination shone in their eyes, even despite the warnings made to them, "Thank you for the help, God bless you."
The two Angels moved quickly, with Kate striding in front and Max following closely behind her. The staccato of rifles, which otherwise was a muted pitter-patter in the background, grew ever louder and ominous as they approached.
They passed another formation of militia, the majority of whom were resting. The men had likely been relieved just hours ago and were resting up before they'd be sent back into the fray. Grimaces and dreadful stares followed them as the girls trekked past.
The rumble grew louder still. It seems the Reds were skirmishing against the defenders just a ways down.
The girls stopped short, where a junction connected the path to the front line with their trench, as well as another passage that went towards the outer stretches of Arkadia-town. A useful path, should they need to vacate in the event of a sudden attack on the line.
The fighting certainly felt as though it would escalate into something worrisome. Already were some militiamen passing them by to support their comrades fighting back the Reds, their gear clattering in tangent to their hurried pace.
"…it's a shame we didn't bring a stretcher with us," Max commented, "Might've done some good than to sit here and wait."
The mousy brunette glanced to her blonde friend, ready to turn back. But Marsh burned with a righteous flame, and no amount of assured danger was going to scare her.
"We can still look for him."
"Hey—I thought being the crazy one was my job," Max nervously joked, "you're supposed to be the voice of reason."
"I am," Kate remarked, "let's go." She was serious, and moved ahead of Max before the brunette could offer anymore protest. Said brunette was quick to follow.
"Now, wait a second—I know you promised to help that little girl, but we can't help her if we end up getting killed—we should wait it out!"
"I have to find her brother, or else!" Marsh pressed, and further she went. The roar of automatic fire was terrifyingly loud, and they could barely hear each other by this point. The line as alive with the din of small-arms and men calling out targets, this combined with the heavy smoke and the smell of cordite and iron. The girls shuffled their way into the fight, one step at a time.
A militiaman called for ammo, and a runner came quickly with a bandolier, his helmet smacking against the wall of the trench as he stumbled out from his dugout. With little regard for them, he pushed his way through the line and reached his buddy, tossing him the bandolier and hurrying back to his post.
Kate snatched his arm as he came back, and shouted over the gunfire, "Hey—do you know where James Alderson is!?"
"No!" the man shouted back, "who the fuck are you?!"
"We're the Angels—!"
From above, a whistle came.
"Mortars—!"
"Aw SHIT—!"
They ducked, and the ground shook from the impact of a mortar. Again, the gunfire swelled into a crescendo. The militiaman peeked from his spot on the ground, and hollered—
"Get the hell outta here, it ain't safe!"
"I need to find him! I need to find James!" Kate shouted back, but the militiaman was done listening. He picked himself up and moved further down the line and out of sight. Agitation boiled under flesh, and Kate stood up and desperately called out, "James! James!"
Nobody could hear. The roar of battle reigned over the conscious, and maintained its grasp with frequent and tantalizing spectacles of violence. Guns rattled, the trees swayed to this bloody tune.
Marsh was answered by another mortar shell landing short of the trench, knocking her back down. A jagged slab of red-hot metal, weighing a half-pound by the looks of it, sailed into the trench and buried itself into the wall right where she'd previously stood.
"Let's get out of here, Kate!" Max pulled at her arm, tugging her back, "It's too dangerous!"
"I have to find him—!" but before the blonde could tear from her friend's grasp, Max swung her around and pulled her close, to make sure she could hear, "If neither of us get out of here, then no one's gonna find him!"
Another shell struck the earth, sending them back to the ground. A militiaman fell back from his dugout, clutching at his helmet and screaming for his life. His cries for help rung clearly to the two medical volunteers, and they moved to assist the wounded man.
"I can't see, oh god I can't see—!"
"Gauze, gauze!"
Max pulled from her bag a roll of gauze, "Where is it, where's the wound?!"
"It's by his eyes, right where his hand is!"
"James!" the man rasped, and the girls were shocked from their training at the man's urgency, for even when clutching in eyes in anguish, he cried clearly through the gunfire, "James, are you a'right!?"
"Sir, what are you…?"
"My son, check for my son!" he coughed, and raised a bony hand to the firing position he had stumbled from, "James!"
Kate got up and quickly crossed the couple feet of trench to peer into the carved-out position. One hand of hers was already reaching for the bracelet, ready to give it to Leah's brother and fulfill the promise she had made.
"James—?"
She saw his arm first. Separated at the elbow, still leaking. The rest of his body was folded backwards, and there was nothing she could make out above his shoulders. There was simply nothing there.
"How is he!? James!" the father cried, but his words fell on deaf ears. The gunfire continued with a vicious indifference, and drowned out anything he had left to say.
"…and so, we administered the gauze wrapping around the wounded man's head, and with both of us carrying each of his arms, we carried him all the way back to the church."
Some scratching on paper. A sigh.
"And the other…?"
"There wasn't much we could do about the other one," Max answered, rather detachedly, "the skirmishing along the frontline only got worse, and we feared that going back in would have done more harm than good. Kate, she…she informed me that the other soldier was already gone."
"Is this true, Kate?" the record-keeper asked. It was their job, however tedious and cold-hearted it seemed.
It didn't shake the emotions swirling in her heart, nor dissipate the emptiness of her stare.
"Yes," is all she can say. Anything more, and it'd be too much.
The record-keeper could see this well, and hummed in confirmation, "Right then, I'll trust your word. I'll also give you some advice Dr. Neumann would most likely give to you: get some rest and recover. It's never a good idea to dwell on things like this."
"…of course," Max solemnly replied. Kate said nothing.
The record-keeper walked back to wherever their post might be, and left the two girls alone. The rest of the Angels were still on standby inside the church, a simple journey from where they were, by the office buildings across the street.
The absence of people was acutely prevalent. Most of the medical staff were busy inside the office buildings, and also took their breaks inside for fear of being shelled. Everyone was afraid of when a random mortar strike would deliver a package of hell for them. Prayers for safety were uttered as often as words of profanity.
"…Max," Kate spoke, and Max answered, "Yeah?"
"…if I ever break a promise like that again, I need you to do me a favor and shoot me, on the spot."
Max frowned at the blonde, visibly concerned.
"You still tried your best," she attempted to defend, "Almost got yourself killed doing it. It'd do no good, to waste your life like that—"
Hands seized her arms, and Kate's silver eyes were glaring at her. They were red, and bloodshot. Tears could be seen already, brimming under the pupils.
"Don't hesitate, don't give any mercy to me," Marsh pleaded, "It's the most I could ask for, after what I've done."
"I'm not doing that," Caulfield rejected her plea, "Stop it, Kate. You're not getting that from me."
"Did you see the way she looked at the bracelet? Did you see it, Max?!" Kate hissed, because the image of Leah becoming silent and still as she handed the bracelet back haunted her intensely. Because he was there, he was right there within her reach, and Kate could have saved him because of the bracelet and its power of will, it surely would have been enough to spare him. She believed it, Leah believed it too.
So knowing this, and seeing the hope flicker away from Leah's bright blue eyes sent Kate into a fit of misery. Even though it's been hours since they had left the Alderson family to grieve for their kin, the idea of what could have been, what should have been, tormented Kate's mind to no end.
She imagines the smile on Leah's face, as she tackles her older brother in a hug. Seeing the happy looks adorning the mother and father, and the joyful laughter of the other Alderson children as their family is reunited.
She imagines Lynn, crying herself to sleep, grieving over a dead sister that couldn't fulfill her promise to return home.
"I know it's selfish to ask this of you, I'm sorry, but I can't—!" Marsh ducks her head. The teardrops fall onto the brick floor, one after the other. Max decides enough is enough, and pulls Kate into an embrace.
"Let it out," Caulfield gave her the unspoken permission, and Kate bawled into her shoulder. Her grip on Max's arms was as forceful as her misery, a sweeping force of moral punishment, destined to befall the righteous soul. Regret over tarnishing one's promised word always left a bitter taste.
"Oh God, what have I done," Kate sobbed, "What have I done…"
Max said nothing. She held her grieving friend close. As a distraction, she chose to look up, and beheld the rolling grey clouds and gloomy atmosphere that surrounded them.
They would convene with their fellow Angels an hour later, when lunchtime came about. No one said anything about Kate's bloodshot eyes, and far-seeing look. Nobody heard the sniffles in the night, when evening had set in and one could be alone to seek repentance for their misdeeds.
