The Long Dark Trek

[cute_girl1]

Sarah found Winly's old clothes. She tossed them to Tara. "This will have to do." She then went over to where the injured man, Mary and Tara. Looking to be useful. All she could offer was support.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Tara nodded grimly to Sara, and looked to help Mary however she could.

She could hear, and feel, another person with them. Looking up, she saw (to her surprise) a German soldier. Setting down his MP40, he ran over to the group. In clear English, with a slight Midwest accent, he said,
"He will not survive. I'm afraid I'll have to take you as prisoners again, but we have to get this man to the infirmary."

There were too many Germans around. Obviously, the commotion of their escape had drawn them in from quite a ways around. She looked over to Mary and Sarah, wordlessly.

 

[cute_girl1]

Sarah could not believe what was happening. Only a few hours ago they had escaped, and were free. Now the Germans were going to take them again. She wanted to scream, cry, and run all at the same time. She let one tear escape/ She hoped that Derek and Deac would come back soon. Right now the three women and the dying man could really use there help. Actually Winly could use the Germans help more, more than the Americans.

 

[TheScarletBlade]

Pivoting quickly towards the stairs,combat knife drawn Derek lunged foreward,ready to die upon a whim for his freedom.Awkwardly,his knife came no where near to German flesh as he found Deacon pointing a German gun at his chest and his knife close to a kill shot on his American friend.His hand snapping back as he took a deep breath,Derek took a step back.Away from the front of the gun,Derek shook his head and slid his knife into its sheath.

"Deac? Jesus Christ man! I swear I was about to kill you.I thought you were a German,you smelly oaf!" Derek said happily as he embraced his comrade in a massive bear hug.Derek seemed to be in good condition,though he looked like he had been through hell.With a cut lip,a cut on his cheek and a massive bruise of his forehead,Derek had obviously been in a fight or two since they had last met.

"Deac,your looking at a court marshal through" Derek said with utter seriousness as he took a step back from his friend and his face took on a grimly serious facial expression."I told you to take care of Winley,yet I found him abandonded in the forest a mile or two back.He was your responisbility" Derek shouted "Now I know you wanted to chase that pretty Russian,whatever the fuck her name is but I don't care at all! It was your job.If you disobey another one of my orders again...I dunnno...it will be bad though" Derek said,snarling as he did.

Moving away from his friend and to a window,he looked at the snow covered countryside."Deacon" Derek started as he turned back towards his friend "Deacon,I do believe its time for me and you to leave." Derek said gravely "We are American Deacon,that means we do not need to worry about the Brits or the Russian.Winley is shot up bad and can bearly move.The other three are woman and if we have to move fast,they would not make it.Only slow us down Deacon.I can make us dissappear Deacon.We can make for Italy and make it there faster with just me and you.What do you say?" Derek said as he met eyes with his friend.

Suddenly,there was a shot from outside and a gasp.Drawing his blade,he rushed to the window,Deacon joining him.He noticed a German moving towards the other people of the group and Winley laying injured on the ground.Derek let fly his knife,it turning end over end until it lodged it self rather painfully into the throat of the German soldier.Rushing from the window,Derek went down the stairs in a hurry,yelling to Deacon to follow him as he shot out through the front door and headed around the barn to the side,in time to pull his knife out of the German's throat.

"Now that the hell is going on!!" Derek roared as he held the still bloody knife in his hand,blood dripping off the black blade until the ground.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Tara stood to her full height, looking cooly into Derek's eyes.

"Everything is wrong. Winley was abandoned twice, and because of this, I nearly shot him thinking he was the German whose uniform he took. And as you can see, he was then shot by a German sniper. His wound is bad. The German soldier you killed was going to take him to the infirmary of the camp we just escaped from. It may have been Winley's only chance, even if it would have placed us back in German hands."

Tara knew that this was her third escape attempt. She did not doubt that her fate would have been a noose (firing squads demanded at least one bullet, therefore were inefficient). The others would not have been punished as severely, but she did not think that either of the other two women would have been able to stand returning to captivity.

But Winley ... Tara did not know if he would live.

 

[cute_girl1]

Sarah B.

"The Germans would heal Winley, and them they might do some wicked experiments on him. We all have heard the storys." Sarah could feel the tension in the air.

Sarah looked down at the ground. Her eyes soon feel apawn Winley. In almost a whisper "His breathing has slowed some more. He is almost gone." A shiver ran down her entire body. "We need to keep moving." she said louder than before.

 

[VeXeR]

Deac quickly followed Derek outside and had a look for himself. Damn Winley was really in for it. And now people were arguing, this was all but good. Deacon looked around making sure there were no more germans.

He felt kind of guilty for what happend to Winley, even though he still thought that it wasn't his fault. After all, he was to scout that farm right? How could he be two places at the same time.

But what did a court marshal mean out here, not a damn thing. The others were starting to get loud, arguing back and forth. Deac had had enough

"thats enough! pipe down! of you keep up like that we will have the entire german army on our tail, even more than we already do. Derek, you said that Winley was my responsibility, right? Good it's settled then, i'll bring Winley to a doctor and the rest of you lot make sure not the get caught."

He passed by Derek on his way to Winley and muttered in a low voice, a whisper only Derek would hear "and don't you fucking leave them!" and looked seriously at them.

He sat down with Winley and spoke in a playful tone trying to cheer the wounded doctor up. "Well lets get this doctor to a doctor shall we? What do you say?"

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Mary just sat there, looking at the chaos that surrounded her. Control had been lost and now, she wondered how and who would restore it. Winly was dying her arm was bleeding profusely. Looking at the dog she commanded it to come towards her, "Gekommen."

The dog looked up at her and slowly came towards her. She grabbed his leash and released him. Taking the leash in one hand and between her teeth she wrapped it just above the bite wound and pulled it taunt in a knot, stemming the flow of blood. She was angry and frustrated. Everything had gone wrong and the sad thing was no one was to blame. It happened and now they just had to move on.

Getting up she looked toward the others then back to the farm house. Tired of being cold and hungry she asked Sarah if she wished to accompany her inside to find food and dry clothes. Not waiting for an answer Mary called the dog to follow her, and it did so. She made her way into the home, knowing that it was now safe since Derek and Deac had cleared it of the German filth that had housed themselves there.

Moving into the kitchen she gathered up what meager provisions she could find and began to prepare something to fill their hungry bellies. As the food began to cook, Mary moved through out the house. All the valuables that she was sure once had been lovely family possessions were no longer there. She found the bedrooms and gathered up blankets and even a few shirts and pants. Taking her treasure trove of supplies downstairs she dropped them into the center of the room, and went back to fix breakfast.

 

[poohlive]

"Doctor?" Winly looked at Deacon like Deacon was some sort of crazy man. And in a way, Winly supposed he was. A crazy american who had never seen the perils of war, the truth of staring into a man's eyes who you kno was going to die, even if that death was minutes, hours, or even days away. The long wait of agony and inevitability. No, americans knew only of quick fixes and wonder remedies. Stuff that worked now, and needed to happen fast, so that everyone could be happy once more.

"There's no chance for a doctor. Even if one happened to live only a mile..." At so many words he raged into a coughing fit, spitting out mouthfuls of blood, " A mile away. No, I need to do this... now."

He looked up at Deacon, and then shook his head. Deacon was no good, he needed someone smart, someone with a level head and a good arm. The russian. He nodded to her, wanting her to come closer. Yes, if anyone had to do it, it was her. He thought deeply of Sarah, but didn't think she could handle it. He didn't think he could handle making her do it. She was too precious... too innocent for this task. She was hard as nails, yes, but not when it came to death, and no matter how this turned out, death would be as close as a kiss, a snowflake on the end of their noses. He knew that now.

"The house, now... I need a knife, sharp as you can find.... hot water, boiling... I need dry towels... a tube. Find a tube... I don't care where, short, and as limp as you can get it. Limp and small."

Yes, he wanted to tell her so much. Half the width of a finger would be best. One with a sharp edge, to drive into his lung, pierce through and take out all the blood that at the moment was drowning him. He could feel it, so much blood in there now, soaking him through, drowning him. Blood ran out his nose now, thick with white bubbles. God, so much blood.

"Deacon, move me into the house... someplace warm. Check my back. I can't feel... it's so numb."

God it's so numb, laying there on the snow, dying. He could feel the heat leaving him with each breath, each shallow breath," Tell me if there's an exit would. I need to know if the bullet's still inside or not."

He didn't know which would be better or worse. If there was an exit wound, that would be another hole to patch, another place for blood to flow in. God, damnit, but if there wasn't... that meant the bullet was still inside him somewhere. And that, might be worse. Bad enough he was going to do all this shotty work around his ribcage to patch him like like some fucking half formed scarecrow, but now he had to dig out a bullet too.

Fucking shit. He needed just one break. One break in this god gamned world. So much shit has happened, so many things had gone wrong, and Winly had accepted them. He accepted them all. He accepted that he was no soldier, that he knew nothing of how to kill a man, or careful aim, or survival in the deep snow. He accepted that with this kind of fucked up situation things were bound to go wrong, but one fucking break.

That's all he asked. Winly prayed, for one fucking break. If he got it, he thought he might be able to live through the night. If he got one break, he would be able to live through the night, and then...

Then he could worry about tomorrow.

"Hurry," He said, coughing up more blood, spitting it out like rancid milk, "Hurry, if I'm going to do this, I need to do it now..."

 

[VeXeR]

"You're the doctor" Deacon said and bend down to pick up Winley. He carefully placed his arms around him and prepared to carry him inside.

"Ready doc? This will hurt" Not waiting for a reply Deac lifted Winley off the ground and began walking towards the farm house. He made his way inside and looked around, "Will a table do, doc?"

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Mary stood there at that stove, turning around she saw Decon carrying in Winly, "Well lay him there." Mary pointed out the table that sat in the middle of the kitchen. Blood had seaped from the gabing whole in the doc's chest.

Washing her hands, and drying them on a towel she had found earlier she pushed Deacon aside, "The damn fool, dressing up in a German uniform." Winly tried to speak, "Shut up you idiot American."

Taking a knife she pushed it at Deacon, "Wash that with soap and hot water."

Mary worked quicky, and used another knife to cut the shirt off the doctor's body. Her eyes were immuned to the site of blood. Though her arm was sore, its bleeding had stopped. The gashes in them would heal, but leave scars. The bite she hoped would not get infected, as well as the german mutt was hopefully free of disease.

While the others had been outside pampering the doc, she had changed her shirt and wrapped her own arm. Mary was tired of just doing nothing, so she had finally decided to take care of herself, when the group finally decides how to move together as a team she'd follow them. Looking up she saw Derek, Sarah and Tara move into the kitchen.

"Take the dog outside and if your not here to help your in the way."

Looking at Deac, she took the knife. "Ok Doc. Deac and I are here, what do you want us to do?"

 

[cute_girl1]

Sarah had followed Mary to the farmhouse. She was helping with the prepartion of the food. Mary went off in the farmhouse. . Sarah stayed in the kitchen cooking the food. When Mary returned she had some blankets, and clothes

Once Mary was at the stove, Sarah took the blankets from Mary. She layed them on the floor, so they all could sleep once they ate.

Later Decon came in with Winley. Mary had rushed over to help, so Sarah took over the stove once agian.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Tara had shot a last glare at Derek, and followed the others into the farmhouse, glad someone was acting with reason.

She was no leader. She was no follower, either. A sniper lives their life with their gun and their partner, and the constant awareness of death. Tara had brought death, and had seen death. She had held a dying man in her arms, and felt his blood on her hands.

Tara saw the nod from Winley, and came close to him, perched up on the table in the kitchen. She saw the sharp clean knife, and guessed that the doctor had something bloody, desperate, but all too necessary in mind.

"I am here, comrade doctor. What do you need from me?"

 

[poohlive]

Medical language soaked through his mind, went dull and sharp in focus as he lay there dying on the table. God, it got so confusing, didn't it? A collapsed lung, a lung filling with blood. No, not the same, they were treated differently. He could understand a collapsed lung, he could endure that.

This... this was fucking killer.

He looked at the Russian, "Heat. I need something hot. Ok? Get something hot, I need you, when I ask, to burn the wounds. If you burn them, they cauterize, and no more blood will come out. You understand? I need you to burn the wounds. When I see."

When all this was done, yes. Fucking shit. God, a half attempted operation with bare necessity tools and a bunch of soldiers. The situation could be worse, he said to himself, coughing up too much blood, spitting it again out of his mouth.

It still ran in the back of his throat though, pooled there, coagulated like running grease of a stuffed pig. He felt hot and sick and cold and weak all at the same time.

"First," He looked at the french woman, her sharp knife. She did seem to know something. Good, he could use that, he could use as many assistants as possible.

"Give me the knife, and then look for a tube. This is all fucking useless without a tube. Small as possible, with a curved edge. Small lithe plastic tube. I need it... I need it right now, and I also need the knife."

He asked her to sterilize it first, getting it over the fire, burning off all germs, making it nice and sharp. It would cut into his skin like softened butter. He couldn't let her do this part though, couldn't let anyone do this part.

No one knew the intricacies of the lung, where to stick the tube, where to cut. The lining of the lung, thin flab of skin between the outside and inside. If he cut too deep, he would just be adding more holes to an already blood filled organ, and if he cut too shallow, he's just be letting air go straight into his body, unaided. Death would be a mere matter of minutes after that.

With an animalistic grunt, he let the knife delve into the wound on his chest. He screamed aloud, grunting hard, the knife finding its way between the ribs, finding its way with such ease. The smell of burning fat and skin came to his nose immediately. He couldn't register it enough to feel sick, but his stomach did make a stopping lurch.

He met pressure with the knife, beneath the ribs. The lungs, good, he was there. A little more pressure and he felt another sharp pain deep within him. Just a tiny pain though, tiny pressure coming up, being released. The ape that had been on his chest now began jumping up and down with ferocious intent. He coughed up more blood, asking someone to clean him up.

He was a child, three years old, spitting up his dinner and asking his other for help...

No time, no time to worry about it now. A simple operation, short slice along the outer and inner lung. He couldn't see, he couldn't see if it was right, but he could feel it. If that meant anything at all, he could feel it.

One fucking break, all he asked.

"I need that tube... " His voice was weark, hoarse, and filled with blood.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Mary had known the American doctor was an idiot, now this just confirmed it. He was operating on himself, well when he died it would be his own fault. She hadn't the knife to someone and told them to deal with it.

He wanted a tube, where was she going to find a tube. She thought of what she had seen in the house and around the farm. She remembered the was a long thin tube upstairs in the bathroom, she didn't know what it was for, but it was all she could think of.

She pushed through the others and ran up the stairs, she found the bathroom, and grabbed the tube. Hurrying back down she, rushed back into the kitchen and ran hot water water over the tube and through it. She knew it needed sterilized but there wasn't time. Walking up to the table, her face set in grim determination she looked at the pale face of the American doctor, "What now?" Her head hurt as did her arm, she'd be thrilled when this was over, then with their luck the man would just get an infection. Well, when that happened, that girl he was so sweet on could care for his sorry ass.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Tara blinked. Something hot? Cauterize. This night was getting stranger.

She found a fireplace poker, and grinned in sadistic satisfaction. It was almost too perfect.

Now, to heat it. The stove.

Mary had started to heat food, and the blue gas flame (they had been very lucky that there was still a gas line intact) was the only source of ready heat.

She held the poker in the flame, watching its head grow red hot.

 

[poohlive]

"Thank you," He took the tube, using one finger to plug one end of the tube, and the others to feel for the cut he'd made. In a moment he caught it with sharp surprise. The incision, something more delicate and handled than a bullet riddled side, but something he could handle nontheless.

He started pushing the tube in, slowly and carefully. Guiding it straight through his skin, past his rib cage. It caught up, refusing to go further. He pushed hard, grunting, grinning, blood spewing off him in rivets. It hurt so bad, the ape on his chest started dancing the Charleston, up and down, back and forth.

The tube refused to push through, perhaps it was too lithe, too wimp. He thought maybe he needed something stronger, something willing to go through bone... if need be, but that thought escaped him. He had asked God for one single break in his life, and God had provided him with a tube. A tube in a farm house that shouldn't have had a tube, but had one just the same.

He asked for one break, and promised to take care of the rest. God had provided, now it was his turn.

Screaming in agony, he pressed further down, and the tube sunk through, imbedding deep into his lungs. It caught, at least he hoped it did, and all of the sudden he felt pressure from the tube. Sharp pressure. Blood, fresh red blood wanted to pour out.

"Ok, sweetheart," He looked over at Tara. Good girl, she had done what he asked, "Get ready, I need to stop the bleeding now. No use emptying my lung if more blood's just gonna go through."


"Mary, after she cauterizes it, take a towel, bandages, whatever, and push down on the wound hard. I need you to seal it up, seal it so that no air can get through. I need it to be sealed, I need it to be a lung if at least for a few seconds. No air, tight. Push down on my chest as hard as you can. It'll hurt me, and I'll probably scream, but that doesn't matter. Right now, I'll take that over death. Can you do that?"

He looked over at Tara, glancing at the open wound, bleeding inside him, drowning him, killing him softly with its song. Yes, god yes. He had a break, a chance, and he was going to take it.

Now it was time to see if the doctor really knew what the fuck he was talking about.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Tara sensed it was the right moment, and she pressed the hot iron of the fireplace poker against the wound in Winley's side.

There was a sound like bacon cooking. A smell that turned the stomachs of everyone in the room: Burning human flesh was a smell one never fully got used to.

Steam rose up from the wound, and Tara, despite herself, flinched. She had seen horrors, caused horrors, but always from a safe distance. This was quite different, and Tara knew she would never be able to be part of Stalin's torture gangs.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Mary moved in right after Tara and did as the doc had instructed. She pushed hard on the wound, smelling the burned flesh. Then she pushed harder. As she pressed down, air pushed out and Winly screamed.

Her arm hurt and she worried if she was pressing hard enough, calling over to Deac, she had him assist in pushing down the wound giving the doctor the air tight seal he asked for.

Winly's screams had pierced the air and rang in everyone's ears. The continued smell of burnt flesh still hovered in the room. Mary could smell vomit, knowing that someone had gotten sick. She didn't know who nor did she care.

She just wanted this situation over and she wanted the Captain, to take command again. Finally she heard Deac calling her name. He told her the seal was air tight, so she managed to secure it, and keep the seal from allowing any air in.

Looking at Winly's pale features she could see he fought consiousness, "Doc. Anything else.. or are you gonna pass out now?"

 

[poohlive]

The pressure felt like a water hose, when someone put their thumb over the nozzle, trying to see how long they can stop it from building, how long before the water just rushed out wild and abaonded. It came to him now, his lung sealed up, filled with blood and air that demaned release.

As she pressed down hard, it also made it want to escape, and since there was no more hole in his chest, since she had sealed it all, all that remained was the tube.

The tube, God's one and only fucking break this night. His one and only chance.

Winly let the thumb go, and a torrent of blood shot from it, diving up into the air like a geiser. It splashed back down on him, bubbled air, white blood that ran all the way down him. He pushed the tube over to the side, so it could all run off, down the table and out of his lungs.

He tried his best to help, they were pushing down on his lungs, pushing down hard, and he had to exhale, get it all out of his lung, get it all out. He had to... collapse his lung, to make sure nothing else was in there. No blood, no air, nothing. He had to flush it out, like he was flushing out a fucking radiator on some Ford.

It came, hard at first, hard and fast. Blood, way too much blood, too much for any one person to lose in a single night ran freely on the floor. He couldn't breath, because his lung had collapsed, couldn't handle it anymore.

Once the blood was all out, at least as much as he could handle, Winly brought the small tube up to his lips, and blew into it, blew what little air he had left into his lung. Like he was filling a balloon, the cold stingy air slithered back down. Forced, but going just the same. He was blowing up his own lung once more, making it functional.

"Keep pressure," His voice throaty and raspy, like a smoker in his golden years, "Please, can't stop it now."

When his lung filld up, became full once more, Winly paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath of air. It hurt, he choked, coughed once more, threw up more blood, but he also felt it. He felt his lung working, tired, hurt, and in more pain than he could ever know, but the damned thing was working.

He could feel blood still in it, small, not enough to bother him, but enough that he could feel it. He would need to drain it again soon... not now, though. Now was just too much.

Instead, he tied the tube around itself, and closed it shut tight. It laid limply across his chest.

He breathed, for the first time in what seemed like forever, he breathed in air, and it was good.

"Watch it," He said, his eyes already closing, he was falling fast. He had done what he needed to do, and now sleep would come to him, frightfully and forcefully, "Keep it tight, bandage it. Cauterize it again if it bleeds, don't take the tube out. I need it still. And just... just watch me. Wake me up if I start choking, or if there's more blood..."

He wanted to say more, how to give him some water, keep him hydrated, keep him warm, get him out of the blood, take him someplace safe. Sanitize everything, but he couldn't too many words, and not enough time. He fell asleep, or the pain finally wisked him away into unconsciousness.

Either way, he went willingly, and didn't turn back.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Tara had watched everything in amazement. The bastard had done it! Or at least, it had appeared that he had.

She stroked his hair, wet with sweat and melted snow. Strands were in his eyes, and she gently pushed them out of the way. She sighed whistfully, remembering her own darling, how he had not survived such a wound.

She felt the eyes of the others on her, took a deep breath, and shrugged.

"I think," she said quietly, "that we, all of us, will be alright. We must stay here for at least the night. I suggest we schedule guards. We must watch for Germans, watch Winley to keep him alive, and ... eat, drink, and get dry clothes."

 

[TheScarletBlade]

Grabbing Deacon on the shoulder as he walked by,he held the sargent in place.Turning the sargent around,he got right up to Deacon,face to face.Snarling "I am YOUR captain Deacon Smith,you do what I say,I don't take orders from you" Derek said with hate in his eyes.Letting the Sargent go,he looked at Winley and only shook his head.

He was right after all:Winley was to shot up to try and escape.The french woman was injured too.They could not move quickly anywhere,as he predicted.Unlike them,Derek did not plan of being caught again.The war was with the Germans.The first objective was to win the war and that ment killing Germans no matter what the cost.

The rest of the crew seemed to completely wander off into the barn,Deacon dragging the medic into the barn as well.Like the medic had a chance at all.Everyone finally piled into the barn except for Derek,who remained outside,looking at the German soldier he killed.The man had a M-1 American field pistol.Drawing it from the dead German's holster,he slid it into his own after checking the clip: It had german rounds though.

Having taken his coat back from Deacon,his dark green and brown army camoflague coat.He asked himself: What did they plan to do? The medic was pretty much dead,they had a Russian sniper and a Pilot? a fucking Pilot.What the hell was a pilot going to do for them? exactly....nothing.Zipping the jacket up,the Captain turned towards the north.There was a French city,under German command yet there was French people.There might be French Free Forces he can join up with and fight back against the Germans.Mybe he can make it to Paris and fight the real fight against the Germans.

He was a captain of the United States Marines.The marines were his duty,not these French,Brits and the Russian.Deacon was his only responsibility and if the man wanted to die amongst this filth,he damn well might.Taking a deep breath,the American decided it had been a long night yet he had to move on.Dissappearing from sight when no one was looking,he took off towards the north: with a pistol,a combat knife and the will to stay alive.

About half a mile across the countryside,through the forest,the snow began to pick up heavily and blow right against him.The relentless American did not stop for anything as the snow blew over him,pushing him and trying to bury him.Things were getting colder and colder yet he had kept on,keeping his hands in his pockets and his body huddled togather for warmth.He threw on a German coat he taken from a pack,giving him extra warmth,though the melt snow seemed to seep through his boots and freeze his toes.

He kept going,climbing a rise when finally,through the snow he saw a chimney.It wasn't a villiage yet more of a small town.Even if Germans held it,it seemed pretty big.That ment there was going to be a lot of Germans in this cozy looking town but Germans could not watch every house,giving him a chance to getting a good nights rest before he would have to fight any Germans.

Picking a town on the outskirts of the town,it was a large looking two story house that had smoke from the chimney and the smell of fresh french cooking wafting through the window.Derek crept along the side of the house and went up the side set of stairs that lead to the main door.Half way up the stairs was a window.He lifted his head for a split second,gun drawn to see if he could see any Germans.

There was none.He heard the soft sound of a record player playing a woman singing in French.Pushing the front door open quietly,the American held his gun up,looking for Germans.He followed the smell of cooking as he walked down the hall,making only a slight squishing sound from wet boots.Turning a corner into a kitchen,gun held up he spotted a young french woman.She turned around to look at him and grabbed a knife,screaming at him in French.

"Américain,Je suis un Américain" Derek said quietly as he started to lower the gun,lifting on hand to his lips to be quiet."J'ai besoin d'un endroit pour se cacher,un certain mybe de nourriture.Veuillez mettre le couteau vers le bas!" Derek said as he lowered the gun,taking a step towards the woman.Setting the knife down,the woman nodded to him and offered a slight smile.

"Il y a un sous-sol chaud sous la maison,aussi grand que la maison avec un lit et vous disponibles peut avoir une partie de cet Américain de pain." The French woman replied as she handed him a loaf of warm bread.Smiling,the Captain nodded and exited.Slipping downstairs,he opened the door into the basement and closed and locked it behind him.Stepping into the basement,it was warm with a small fireplace.The bed was a small twinsize bed but that was better than nothing.

Flopping onto the bed,the Captain rested his back against the head board and began to pull a peice of French bread off the loaf and stuffed a warm peice into his mouth and he began to eat.It was warm and tasted good.She had added some sort of spice.It was the best food he had eaten in four or so months.

Finishing the loaf off,he laid back,sliding his gun under his pillow,along with one hand.He was behind enemy lines though he was in a warm bed,so he didn't seemed to have a problem.He fell to sleep quickly.Used to sleeping on his feet,in an accutally bed,it wasn't hard to fall to sleep,certianly with a full stomuch.

 

[cute_girl1]

Sarah had finished the food, while Mary was helping out with Winley. She was playing the part of the house wife. Once everything was done, she went to see if she could help with the makeshif surgery. She watched on in horror.

Mary was sealing the would, and the smell of burning flesh filled the farmhouse. Sarah was the one that vomited, she didn't like the smell here or when she at the POW camp. She cleaned up the mess.

When Sarah finished that the operation was complete. She walked over to where Winley was lying on the table,he was semi-conunconscious. She stroked his arm for servel minutes, until he feel asleep, glad that he was going to live. "Food is ready everyone." She watched as her fellow escapees went to the stove.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Tara looked around at her comrades, eating quietly. She noticed that Derek was gone, but frankly believed that was for the best. That American was unstable. He was the perfect example of the bourgeoisie: Tacky, tasteless, and impulsive. Nonkulturny. Without him, they might have a chance.

She nodded to Sarah.

"Don't worry. He will live, as will you. We'll see you back to England yet."

She tried to sound as compassionate as possible. She had noticed Sarah get sick, she had noticed Winley and Sarah exchanging glances.

 

[cute_girl1]

Sarah let out a small toward Tara. Maybe after the war Sarah and Tara could become friends. She finished eating. "Decon maybe we could lay Winley on some of the blankets set out. That way he would be more confortable. And plus it will be one less pain he has to deal with.