Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Havrincourt Sector, France
AFTER HE’D WOKEN IN a hospital on October twenty-eighth with the unexplained instinct to lock away his awareness of pain and despair, it had taken nearly three weeks of recovery before the doctor, the only skilled one on staff, cleared him for duty.
He decided Sully was no longer compromised by the emotions that had debilitated him in the first place or too weakened by the muscles he had to rebuild.
They both knew it was a slight stretching of the truth, but the pressure to get Sully out into the field had swayed the decision.
He’d done his best to erect a strong wall in his mind, dampening the intensity of the onslaught.
It was a fine line between devoting his energy to holding it up and maintaining enough vigor to be an effective soldier.
Ineffectiveness was a surefire way to cop it and wind up staying in France indefinitely, buried beneath blood-soaked soil, so he learned fast how to get by.
All he’d thought of during his recovery was where Allison and Elliot were. Whether they were all right. Not that he would likely ever know if Elliot was. For all he knew Elliot was dead already. Sully cringed away from that thought.
Bull, I’d know. Maybe I’m cracked, but I’d swear it.
Snatches of absurd dreams between horrific nightmares were nothing to cling to as far as proof went, but he was willing to grasp at any straws at all if it meant he didn’t need to consider that somewhere out there, Elliot might have ceased to exist.
This war was brutal enough. Had taken enough from him.
He’d been out in no man’s land more times than he could count in the last ten days and seen gory mangled death and wanton destruction on a scale he never could have anticipated.
He’d been the only thing standing between groups of soldiers and German snipers who would have picked them off in seconds.
The result of his constant creeping exhaustion, the risk that he might collapse if he didn’t cool it on the illusions, was lives saved.
That justified any cost as far as he was concerned.
The tepid coffee in the tin Sully held hardly warmed his icy fingers.
It was as quiet as it ever got around here, which meant not quiet at all, but not so loud his ears rang.
He sipped at it as he wandered down the line of the trench, along dry dirt walls, ducking low out of rapidly acquired habit to keep his head down so it didn’t wind up with a hole in it.
Walking past soldiers, some of them asleep against the back walls, others crouched and smoking, Sully scanned face after face, searching for Allison.
They were due to participate in a large forward offensive the next day.
It was a massive, ambitious undertaking that would see the Brits using tanks to crush the impenetrable barbed wire defenses that stood between their troops and the goal: taking back the town of Cambrai.
Supposedly, it was a critical target and would serve a major blow against the enemy if they were successful.
He ought to be anxious about what was to come, the soldiers around him radiated varying degrees of concerned tension and excitement at the possibility of a real score in their favor.
But he was much more subdued. It was slowly getting easier to push out his reactions to those around him and bury his own stress and fear in order to focus on the work at hand.
A short soldier headed his way and Sully let out a tiny exhalation of relief.
Allison’s smile was hollow, face lined with weariness and smudged with dirt.
Even his uniform was dusty. Sully’s wasn’t any better.
He was so covered in grime he could feel old blood and mud beneath his fingernails and coating his skin.
Must’ve smelled awful, but everything here did.
The two of them had been out here on the front line too many days with no relief.
The only respite Sully got these days was when he closed his eyes and let himself escape into the privacy of his mind.
“You look half-asleep on your feet,” Allison observed.
“When don’t I? Didja just get back?” Sully asked as they met in between two huddled groups of soldiers and leaned against the wall of woven branches side by side.
“Yeah, they had me listening to the wind again, seeing if the Germans got any idea what we’re up to.”
Sully sent him a grim smile. “You any better at understanding them?”
“You’d think after this long and all the time they spent trying to teach me, it’d be child’s play, but no. I can get the general idea most of the time, but I’ve never had much call for learning other languages, and it turns out I’m shit at it.”
“They had me listening too,” Sully said, leaning forward in a poor attempt to stretch his back. “All quiet. Feels like any other day over there.”
White teeth flashed in the dark in a sharp smile. “Good. That’s the impression I got too. Maybe we got a chance after all.”
Sully shrugged, then sipped his cold tea. What he’d give for milder weather. And some goddamn coffee. “Maybe.”
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping? Replenishing the old reserves for tomorrow?” Allison asked, a chiding tone to his voice.
Sully narrowed his eyes, face heating slightly. “Yeah, well.”
“Oh,” Allison said, pouring it on thick, acting like he made some grand discovery, the little shite. “Were you worried about me?”
Sully grimaced. “Wasn’t. Shut up. Not even a bit.”
Allison bumped his shoulder into Sully’s bicep. “You absolutely were, you big softie.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d be more careful about letting the soldiers notice you’re skilled!” Sully hissed, making sure they weren’t overheard even as he recognized he was being harsh because he was embarrassed. “Some of them would rather get shot by a German than showed up by a witch.”
“Is that what they’re calling me now?” Allison asked, voice melodic with amusement. “I don’t even have a broomstick.”
Getting Allison to be serious was worse than pulling damn teeth.
They weren’t witches of course, witches didn’t exist, but that didn’t make idiots who saw magic and didn’t understand it any less likely to want to burn them at the stake.
Or shoot them in the back. “It’s not funny, asshole.
You do remember what they used to do to so-called witches back home, right?
There’s a damn reason we keep it a secret. ”
That finally got Allison’s back up. “Yeah, well, if I ain’t scared of German artillery, I ain’t gonna walk around scared of some rinky-dink bumpkins I’m supposed to be working to protect. I’m here ’cause I’ve gotta be, ’cause I’ve got a job to do, and I’m gonna do it how I want. They can buzz off.”
Sully sighed and rubbed his aching forehead. “Would you believe I ever thought you were scared of your own shadow?”
Allison chuckled, relaxing again. “I’m small and know it. Helps if people think I’m not a threat. But I’m not about to risk my life on the battlefield to keep up that illusion. Speaking of the battlefield, I did see somethin’ weird today.”
“Oh?”
“Sergent Davies, the skilled one, he just came right up out of the trench and started walking toward the Germans. Heard some shouts for him, but he ignored ’em. Got shot right between the eyes in under a minute.”
“Hell,” Sully muttered. “What the fuck was he doing up there?”
Allison grimaced. “Word is he was getting court martialed.”
“For what?”
“Got caught with an officer, if you know what I mean.” Allison sounded sympathetic. A chill raced down Sully’s spine, he hadn’t known Davies was like him.
It wasn’t the first time he’d heard about someone taking a bullet to spare themselves or their family the embarrassment of a court case. It never stung any less—the reminder that this was the only option for a lot of people who got caught.
He was in the rare position that his boss back home knew he slept with men and didn’t care.
Edie preferred women herself, and she’d clocked him almost as fast as she’d noticed he was skilled.
She’d never fire him for it. He hadn’t told Anne, but he liked to imagine she wouldn’t hate him.
He hoped she wouldn’t. Didn’t want to find out any time soon.
“The poor sap,” he mumbled, not thinking.
Allison raised an eyebrow, then his expression smoothed. “Damn shame. He was terrible at cards; I won every time we played.”
“You were right about one thing,” Sully grumbled tiredly, ignoring the comment.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“I ought to be sleeping.”
Huffing a laugh, Allison tapped him on the arm. “So go flop. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”