Twilight was always an awkward time of the day, which the oppressive mist did nothing to alleviate. Flakes of pure white silhouetted against the darkening horizon that rested a fair ten-meters in any direction. The crunch of your boots in the snow, the looming walls of the houses, your own breathing echoing in your ears and under your helmet; it was enough to leave the idea that you had been plucked up and deposited into another world altogether. The only thing that kept you from believing it completely was looking to the side or behind your back to see familiar faces.
Heller had been assigned to walk on point, his Kar98 snug against his shoulder as he walked forward almost as if it was just another patrol back on the Siegfried line back in ’39. The first patrol had been bad enough for him to consider refusing going out again, but looking Rald in the eye and saying “no” was easier thought than said, let alone done. Considering that Oberleutnant Tobor was missing and Rald was acting in his stead there was a fresh sense of stress for the soldier.
Walking along his rear was Obergrenadier Cyana, Fusiler Durin, Fusiler Edel and Grenadier Jakob, each one walking with their weapons held at half-ready. STG44, two MP40s, and three Mausers, they had enough firepower to stave off a skirmish or two, although getting into a firefight in the middle of a village with only a platoon of soldiers and no reinforcements or resupply wasn’t the best of ideas.
Heller stopped short and brought his rifle up as if to fire, the rest of the squad dropping to a crouch with their own rifles rising. Time always seemed to stretch at these times, as Heller aimed at something only he could see, before lowering his rifle and waving the team forward. The third time in two hours and Jakob had to wonder just what it was that Heller was aiming at.
The third time he opened his mouth was the time that Edel looked over at him and replied.
“OK, how many times does that make? Four,” Jakob muttered just loudly enough for Edel to hear. “At least three, right?”
“It doesn’t matter how many times, Jakob,” Edel hissed back. “If Heller thinks he sees something then I believe him.”
“I’m just saying, this is the fifth time he’s stopped us.”
“Number one, it’s three. Number two, shut up. Your talking is going to give us away if there’s someone out there.”
Jakob opened his mouth to retort before a shot rang out. Heller chambered a new round in his rifle and fired again before Cyana’s and Durin’s weapons rattled in tune. They fired a short burst before pausing, questioning just what it was that they were shooting at just as Heller fired a third shot.
“What the hell is he shooting at,” Durin called out as he, Edel and Jakob shifted to the side of the road, hugging the side of a house as Cyana pushed forward, STG44 in hand as Heller chambered the rifle again but didn’t fire immediately.
“What do you see,” Cyana called, kneeling with their rifle raised. “What are you shooting at?”
Heller didn’t respond, his eye peering down the sights of his rifle as he slowly panned to the side, following something before lowering his weapon, frowning.
“Heller!”
He glanced at Cyana before looking forward, muttering “I saw it again.”
“What? Saw what,” Cyana watched him, looking up at the mists every so often. “What did you see?”
Heller didn’t answer, standing up and looking back at the others before looking straight at Cyana.
“Sorry,” he almost sounded apathetic. “We should keep moving.”
Cyana watched him for the longest of times before looking back at the other three soldiers and waving them over. They got to their feet and jogged forward as Heller started walking once again. Jakob looked at Edel but said nothing, simply gripping his MP40 firmly as he followed the rifleman. There wasn’t much to say that he hadn’t already said aloud, questioning just what it was that Heller had been shooting at.
They walked for some time, Heller being relieved from walking point in exchange for Jakob, partly to shut him up and partly for the possibility that, if Heller was shooting at ghosts then someone could have a chance to stop him. Of course, if it came to be that he was actually shooting something then they’d all start shooting, to be sure. Durin couldn’t help but notice that Heller was blinking more than usual, almost screwing his eyes shut completely before forcing them open. He wasn’t looking too good, if they were being honest.
Three houses down and Durin motioned for the team to stop before dropping to his knee, MP40 raised. The rest of the team scattered and crouched, all for Heller who stayed standing, his rifle raised and locked against his shoulder. Edel tried to get him to get down as well but Heller didn’t so much as budge, staring down the sights of his rifle, his finger resting on the trigger. Edel grabbed at Heller’s belt and gave him a firm yank just as the rifle went off, the bullet sailing harmlessly over everyone’s heads.
Gunfire responded in kind in the distance, muzzle flashes lighting up the mist like St. Elmo’s fire as the air snapped and whistled. Heller fell onto Edel, both tumbling into the snow as Cyana, Durin and Jakob shot back at whoever was trying to kill them. The mist was a funny thing, playing tricks as the distant muzzle flashes seemed to melt in and out of existence, making it hard to tell if they were coming from fifteen meters away, or fifty. It didn’t matter, as Cyana was the first on their feet, urging the others to fall back to safety.
Edel and Heller were the only two that lagged behind. Jakub and Durin were already moving, leaving Cyana to double back to the prone pair, grabbing Heller’s jacket and trying to pull him to his feet as bullets cut through the space between them, snapping the air like metallic whips. Heller didn’t get up so much as pitch to the side, his winter uniform stained red, same as Edel’s.
“How bad is he hit,” Cyana’s voice was almost droned by the buzz of a single rifle in the distance, hearing the bullet crack near her ear as her knees buckled in reflex.
“He’s dead,” Edel shouted back, a fresh barrage of fire nearly silencing him. “We got to get out of here!”
Cyana couldn’t help but agree as Edel got to his feet and the pair took off running in the same direction that Jakub and Durin ran off in. Some part in the back of Cyana’s mind wondered just why Jakub and Durin weren’t providing some kind of covering fire, hearing the guns from up the street but not their own. A bullet clipped Edel’s leg, sending him face-first into the snow and dirt.
Cyana grabbed him by his arm and pulled him to his feet, guiding the wounded man between the houses on the side of the street and out of the line of fire. They kept moving even as they passed the next street and the one after that, searching for some sign of Jakub and Durin. Those two wouldn’t have just broke and run for the house that the rest of the men were fortifying, would they? No, they would have known better, at least that’s what Cyana hoped.
“Ah,” Edel grunted as he started to flail in her grasp, waving his gun. “Let me down, let me down.”
Cyana pulled him against the wall of a house and set him on his rump before grabbing her rifle with both hands and keeping her attention on the way they had come, just in case they were being chased. Edel let out another grunt before letting out a hiss.
“How bad is it,” Cyana asked over her shoulder before looking back down the sights of her sturmgewehr. “Is it bad?”
“I-I don’t think so,” Edel’s voice was soft. “I think I can make it.”
Cyana turned and grabbed his arm but he shook them off, getting to his feet on his own. He took one step and nearly collapsed in the snow, prompting Cyana to grab him by his arm once more, pull him up and help him walk. The gunfire had faded in the distance, although it was hard to tell if the simply too far away to hear the gunfire through the mist and buildings or if the guns simply stopped firing altogether.
It wasn’t a question that anyone wanted an answer to as Cyana looked back at Edel. He had pulled his uniform’s belt off and cinched it around his leg, improvising a tourniquet before reaching for his cap. Cyana grabbed him by his arm and pulled him back up, his arm draping across their shoulder before the pair started moving again, cutting across yards and streets.
By the time they had made their way back to the fortified house, Edel had gone pale, the leg of his trousers soaked in freezing blood. Obergefreiter Espen, one of the sanitäters assigned to their platoon had taken him off of Cyana’s shoulder, aided by another two soldiers as the sani- still wearing his white-red helmet- got to work with the wounded soldier.
Cyana, after a moment to catch their breath, learned that Jakub and Durin had not come back. The first patrol had resulted in a near loss of a soldier, and now they were missing two. Koen, understandably, demanded to know what had happened from Cyana’s point of view and found himself uncomforted by the report.
“First the Oberleutnant, now we have to deal with Americans,” he groaned. He kept himself from saying more, knowing that demoralizing everyone around him wasn’t the best of ideas. Cyana was dismissed and he set about trying to figure out their next plan. Cyana, at first chance, walked into the bedroom that Obergefreiter Espen had appropriated and looked at Edel as he lay on the bed, the sani busying himself with trying to stop the bleeding The rifle was set aside and Cyana knelt down next to Espen, asking here he needed the extra help.
***
