“Shall I drop him?” asked an eager Lewis as he slightly adjusted his rifle sights.
Smith answered immediately, “No, we need to keep quiet. This one doesn’t seem to have spotted us.”
Whilst the three men kept low they could now make out the shapes of more of the creatures in the shadows of the woods and fields. They scanned around the area; all around the horizon seemed to be moving.
Smith spoke, “It looks like they follow sound, so let’s keep going and keep the noise down.”
They both nodded and were about to move when Smith signalled for them to keep still.
Gardner swore first, “Fuck me Sarge, can you see them?”
The NCO pulled them both lower to the ground, checking their route ahead.
“We’ve been lucky. I reckon another five minutes and we’d have had them between us and the church.”
Gardner nodded in agreement.
Smith continued, “Ok, one last push and we’ll be there, keep it low and don’t stop for anything, got it?”
Smith as usual went first, his back hunched as he moved. After months of training he was both fit and very experienced at moving with the minimum of sound. This training was finally paying off, as he was now very close to the northern face of the church and could just make out an occasional movement in the church tower that must be Trent. Without stopping Smith kept jogging, following the perimeter around till he reached the low wall that had until recently been where they had fought their defensive battle against the creatures. Right behind him came the other two, both vaulting the wall as they simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief.
* * *
Inside the church the preparations were proceeding well, until the doors swung open to reveal Smith and his two companions. They were panting but by no means exhausted. Captain Scott and Lance Sergeant Jones both moved close to him. Jones tapped him on the shoulder.
“Good to see you Sarge, had a feeling you wouldn’t vanish on us.”
Smith smiled but his serious composure returned as he took the pack from Lewis and placed it on the floor.
“We’ve found some disturbing evidence, Sir” he said.
Captain Scott, unsurprised by Smith’s statement added his own comments. “Between Jones and the survivors they brought back here, I think we have a pretty good picture.”
He proceeded to explain everything that had happened so far. Smith described everything about the base, the documents he’d brought back and the number of creatures outside. Clearing space in the nave they pulled a container over and used it as an improvised table. Smith laid out the map and the German soldier wandered over. Gardner, shocked at the sudden appearance of the enemy, raised his Sten and was stopped from firing at the last minute by Jones.
“It’s ok, he’s with us.”
Gardner shook his head in disbelief, “You’re kidding me, right?”
The German soldier pointed at the base on the map, as well as the areas marked in red, and spoke with the Captain.
The Captain translated as the German spoke.
“He says this base, the one you just went to, was a drop off point from some kind of materials. He said that he and his men were sent there and then attacked by the creatures.”
Smith asked bluntly, “Do you trust him, Sir?”
The captain nodded, “I don’t see any reason why he would lie. Jones found him hiding in one of the houses and he was under attack by the creatures.”
Smith carried on, “What about the symbols on the maps, does he have any idea what they are?”
Captain Scott spoke to the German who kept shaking his head as he spoke.
“He doesn’t know, though he kept calling them the undead or something like that.”
Smith turned the corner of his mouth up at the name.
“Sounds a pretty fair description to me, they aren’t really dead or alive from what I can tell.”
They were interrupted by the German who’d been looking through the paperwork Smith had recovered from the German base. He seemed almost excited, or possibly agitated, with what he’d found and kept repeating the phrase Wiedergänger.
Captain Scott spoke first to Smith, “One moment,” and then turned back to the German.
Whilst they spoke Smith asked Jones, “How many people did you get out of the houses?”
Jones looked pleased with himself, “In total seven plus this German guy.”
Smith continued, “Any of those things?”
Jones looked at his Sten, “Yeah, we were attacked by two of them. Nothing my little friend and I couldn’t deal with.”
Smith smiled to himself, tapped Jones on the shoulder and then moved back to the Captain who was still talking to the German.
“He says that the papers you brought back keep referring to Wiedergänger, some kind of mythological undead monster. It also mentions something to do with Nachzehrer. Apparently that is a kind of undead vampire thing.”
Smith looked less than impressed with his comments; he thought for a moment. “Of course, these could just be codenames for a new weapon, maybe something that makes the dead turn into these things. What if the Germans are experimenting on making an army of them?”
Captain Scott considered his comments, “I don’t think leaving this place at night is a good idea. We’re going to have to leave the bridge for now, it sounds like we have an unknown number of hostiles out there. Getting killed isn’t going to help our guys. Agreed?”
Smith nodded in agreement.
The Captain went on, “Can you check the unit and make sure everyone is ready? I think we’re going to be here for some time.”
Smith stood to attention and saluted, “Sir,” then headed over to the other soldiers to check on their kit and readiness. In the centre of the room was a pile of weapons, presumably equipment captured from the enemy, though Smith was surprised at the vintage of some of them.
Chard was checking each of them as Smith approached.
“Some of the locals said there were weapons in the basement, looks like there are resistance cells in this area.”
Humphreys lifted himself up from where he’d been sitting for the last ten minutes. His wounds were feeling dull now and he was beginning to feel like he had a fever. After what he had seen happen to Martinez he had no intention of letting anybody think he was about to expire. He hobbled over to the northern aisle where the two French girls and a group of the locals were sat. On the wall he noticed a massive statue, it was of Saint Michael the Archangel. He remembered hearing all about the exploits of the angel when he’d been a small boy at school. The reason he recognised the angel was primarily down to the weapon he carried and the pose. This particular figure had always intrigued him as a boy, as he had been described as the Prince of Light, leading forces of God against the darkness of evil. This ‘viceroy of heaven’ was the kind of leadership figure any boy could look up to. Like many images of the angel, this version had Michael with a breastplate and wings hovering over the body of the slain beast. On his head he wore what looked like an ancient Greek helmet, whilst in his right hand he carried an evil looking blade. The helmet and sword looked as if they were made of metal, or maybe they were painted to look that way.
Near the altar the group of civilians from the village were arguing about something. Lance Sergeant Jones wandered over to see what all the commotion was about. It seemed that two of younger of the men were being accosted by the rest to do something. Quite what wasn’t exactly clear. Luckily the old French man was nearby, Jones beckoned him to join the group and asked if he knew what was going on. He listened to the conversation for a moment, getting an idea as to what they were discussing. He whispered to Jones.