with years of combat experience, but they were both scared out of their minds and very low on ammo.
In front of the altar, Sebastian rolled the body of a dead
Waffen-SS
trooper over. He recoiled when he saw the big ugly scar that ran the length of the soldier’s cheek. “Jesus. Someone sliced him good.”
“He got off easy,” Wolf responded bitterly. He had no pity for the dead soldier. He hoped that the SS got exactly what they deserved when the war was over; if it was even half of the misery those bastards inflicted on the rest of Europe, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
Sebastian took a bullet clip and wallet from the body and put them into his backpack. Then he spotted a crucifix near the altar. “Look at that. I bet it’s pure silver. That’s probably worth—”
“Nothing,” Wolf interrupted. “It is worth absolutely nothing. Only water and ammo are worth a goddamn thing right now. We don’t need a business plan, my friend, we need an escape route.”
When Wolf was out of sight, Sebastian discretely put the crucifix into his backpack.
Water and ammo might be the only currency right now,
he reasoned
, but that will change when the war ends
.
With his treasure safely in place, Sebastian followed Wolf down into the crypts. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and opened a small gold locket. He looked deeply into the eyes of Anna and little Sophie. It was the only photo of them that he still had. Sebastian reflected on how happy life had been in Dresden before the war and wondered how many others had lost everything.
Meanwhile, Wolf searched for the entrance to the tunnels. He didn’t find it, but the dehydrated soldier found the second best thing in a corner crowded with boxes, books and trash. He pried the lid from a barrel, splashed the water on his face and drank greedily from cupped hands. When he couldn’t drink any more, Wolf took his helmet off and dunked his head in. The water was cold, but for someone who hadn’t regularly slept or bathed for the better part of two weeks, the shock to his system was appreciated.
“Do you plan to swim out of Berlin, Major?” Sebastian asked.
Wolf pulled his head out of the water and shook like a dog. Water flew everywhere.
Sebastian’s laughing fit ended abruptly when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped into the air and his rifle went off, sending a bullet exploding into the ceiling and plaster falling down around him. Wolf dove to the floor, desperately scanning the room for the source of the threat.
In front of them stood a young woman, about seventeen or eighteen. She was beautiful. Her high cheekbones and straight burgundy hair gave her a distinctive Eastern European look. Her face gave away no secrets; her distant stare made it seem as if nothing else in the universe existed. Her clothing was minimal; she wore a white ankle-length nightgown and was barefoot, despite the fact that much of the ground in Berlin was covered with broken glass and other dangers. Somehow, her feet were uninjured.
The soldiers remained still, their weapons pointed at their unannounced guest. “
They are coming for me
,” she whispered. She was clearly afraid of something.
“They are coming for all of us,
fräulein
,” Sebastian replied, lowering his rifle. The thought of another young woman caught up in the war saddened him. He wondered if she was shell-shocked, a common condition among the civilians who remained in Berlin. “What is your name?” he asked.
“Eeee-va.” The girl spoke slowly and deliberately, as if each syllable was a struggle to get out.
“That’s a nice name. What are you doing here, Eva?”
“Don’t even think about it,” Wolf said. “We’re not bringing her with us.”
Sebastian immediately jumped into the debate. “Look at her, Major. She’s out of it. You may be in no mood to collect refugees, but this poor girl can’t look out for herself right now. We must do the honorable thing and bring her to safety.”
“Safety?
In front of the altar, Sebastian rolled the body of a dead
Waffen-SS
trooper over. He recoiled when he saw the big ugly scar that ran the length of the soldier’s cheek. “Jesus. Someone sliced him good.”
“He got off easy,” Wolf responded bitterly. He had no pity for the dead soldier. He hoped that the SS got exactly what they deserved when the war was over; if it was even half of the misery those bastards inflicted on the rest of Europe, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
Sebastian took a bullet clip and wallet from the body and put them into his backpack. Then he spotted a crucifix near the altar. “Look at that. I bet it’s pure silver. That’s probably worth—”
“Nothing,” Wolf interrupted. “It is worth absolutely nothing. Only water and ammo are worth a goddamn thing right now. We don’t need a business plan, my friend, we need an escape route.”
When Wolf was out of sight, Sebastian discretely put the crucifix into his backpack.
Water and ammo might be the only currency right now,
he reasoned
, but that will change when the war ends
.
With his treasure safely in place, Sebastian followed Wolf down into the crypts. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and opened a small gold locket. He looked deeply into the eyes of Anna and little Sophie. It was the only photo of them that he still had. Sebastian reflected on how happy life had been in Dresden before the war and wondered how many others had lost everything.
Meanwhile, Wolf searched for the entrance to the tunnels. He didn’t find it, but the dehydrated soldier found the second best thing in a corner crowded with boxes, books and trash. He pried the lid from a barrel, splashed the water on his face and drank greedily from cupped hands. When he couldn’t drink any more, Wolf took his helmet off and dunked his head in. The water was cold, but for someone who hadn’t regularly slept or bathed for the better part of two weeks, the shock to his system was appreciated.
“Do you plan to swim out of Berlin, Major?” Sebastian asked.
Wolf pulled his head out of the water and shook like a dog. Water flew everywhere.
Sebastian’s laughing fit ended abruptly when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped into the air and his rifle went off, sending a bullet exploding into the ceiling and plaster falling down around him. Wolf dove to the floor, desperately scanning the room for the source of the threat.
In front of them stood a young woman, about seventeen or eighteen. She was beautiful. Her high cheekbones and straight burgundy hair gave her a distinctive Eastern European look. Her face gave away no secrets; her distant stare made it seem as if nothing else in the universe existed. Her clothing was minimal; she wore a white ankle-length nightgown and was barefoot, despite the fact that much of the ground in Berlin was covered with broken glass and other dangers. Somehow, her feet were uninjured.
The soldiers remained still, their weapons pointed at their unannounced guest. “
They are coming for me
,” she whispered. She was clearly afraid of something.
“They are coming for all of us,
fräulein
,” Sebastian replied, lowering his rifle. The thought of another young woman caught up in the war saddened him. He wondered if she was shell-shocked, a common condition among the civilians who remained in Berlin. “What is your name?” he asked.
“Eeee-va.” The girl spoke slowly and deliberately, as if each syllable was a struggle to get out.
“That’s a nice name. What are you doing here, Eva?”
“Don’t even think about it,” Wolf said. “We’re not bringing her with us.”
Sebastian immediately jumped into the debate. “Look at her, Major. She’s out of it. You may be in no mood to collect refugees, but this poor girl can’t look out for herself right now. We must do the honorable thing and bring her to safety.”
“Safety?
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