Januski moved to help the sergeant. I looked back to Crowley.
I saw a bullet pound into his jacket along the shoulder. I don’t think it hit him, I didn’t think it then, either, but it blew the epaulette off the jacket as he charged, his long legs cutting the distance quickly.
He took the time to fire at the enemy. I give him that and nothing more. He did not duck. He did not dodge. He seemed utterly unconcerned about whether or not he lived.
All we could do was try to offer him covering fire or watch him die. I chose to offer as much help as I could and every time I saw a muzzle flash I aimed at it.
Crowley ran hard and fast and made the woods as quick as any track star I ever did see.
We couldn’t fire when that happened. We might have hit one of our own.
I can only tell you this. There was an explosion over in those woods that was large enough to shake the few remaining leaves from the trees and to split an old oak in that copse in half. After the explosion the gunfire slowed and then stopped.
Except for the sounds coming from Sergeant Marks as Januski tried to patch him up. There was an awful lot of silence. I don’t think I can explain how worrisome that is when you’re certain people are trying to kill you.
Crowley came out of the woods, hauling two men behind him. One man was struggling and thrashing, the other was either dead or unconscious and was being dragged along by his heel.
After about ten yards Crowley dropped the one who wasn't moving just long enough to beat the one trying to get away into a stupor. I could hear the punches from nearly forty yards away.
When the German stopped struggling, Crowley dragged his prisoners along with him.
They weren’t regular soldiers. Their uniforms were all black and they were older men, not soldiers but officers.
Not just officers, but SS. Hitler’s special elite according to what we’d heard. These were the guys the rest of the Germans were scared of.
Crowley scowled at us as he came back and threw the two men into the road.
The one he’d beaten on was breathing in rough gasps, and his face was swelling.
“Boys, I’m going to need you to keep a look out for a while.”
“What happened to the rest of them?” Lewis was a good egg, but not so bright.
Crowley looked at the kid for a long while and then spoke as if dealing with a child who refused to learn. “I killed them.”
“All of them?”
“Well, Lewis, I didn’t leave them in the woods so they could come after us.” A long pause while Lewis looked at him, frowning. Then, in an exasperated voice Crowley said, “Yeah, Lewis. They’re all dead.” He looked my way. “Is he actually this stupid?”
Lewis shook his head. “Hey. Don’t call me names.”
“Lewis?”
Lewis was a big man, easily six and a half feet in height and broad as a barn. “Yeah?”
Crowley smiled. Lewis flinched.
“Shut up and let me work here.”
Lewis nodded.
Crowley dragged the first of the men in black off to the side and crouched over him, speaking softly in the cold air.
Listen, technically I was supposed to be in charge at that point. I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I knew it and I accepted it. I was a grunt. I was there to fight and to take back what the Nazis had stolen, but I preferred not to lead. I didn’t want that many lives on my conscience.
Crowley spoke to both of his captives while we listened without any idea what was being said. He spoke to them in German. I didn’t understand a single word and if anyone else did they hid it well. I say he spoke. What I mean is he interrogated. That’s the only way to put it. He never touched them, but I could see them flinch when he talked, and I could well see the fear in their eyes. The second one actually cried while Crowley questioned him. At the end the man fell back and openly sobbed. I have no idea what Crowley said or did to cause that.
When he was done he pointed to the two men he’d dragged with him and said, “I’m done with them. Do what you want.”
He looked right at me as he said it.
“I. What?” It wasn’t my best moment.
“Corporal.” He pointed to my two chevrons. “You’re in charge. Your sergeant is dying, your captain is dead.” Those brown eyes looked at me and I nearly cringed. “That means it’s on you.”
“Well, the sarge is still alive.”
Crowley looked at me and spoke slowly, softly. The expression on his face was one of barely repressed anger. “He’s dead. He won’t make it through the day. There’s no one around to help him. I would, but I have other things to take care of.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“Leiber and Dunst over there,” he jerked a thumb at the Germans, “told me what I needed to know. Now I’m going to go find the man who committed those murders and make him tell me what he summoned.”
“Summoned? What are you talking about, Crowley?” I was doing my very best not to panic. I need to clarify this: I did not want command. I wanted to survive and get home and that was all. Two little patches on my sleeve did not make me a good candidate for command.
“I really don’t have time for you.” He spoke under his breath, but the way he said it, I knew he didn’t much care if I could hear him. “Okay. The four people that got killed? They were sacrifices. Their lives in exchange for summoning something to help the Nazis win the war. I want to make sure that doesn’t happen. It’s what I do. So, I’m going to hunt down the bastard that did the summoning. I’m going to kill him. I’m also going to stop whatever the hell he brought through. I don’t know what that is yet, but the Wild Hunt showing up told me there was some bad news coming our way. That’s why they showed in the first place. The only time the Wild Hunt appears is to warn people that something truly deadly is drawing near. You just have to know how to listen and what to look for.”
“Well, what do you look for?” I wanted to beg him to stay and take command. I needed that. I wasn’t ever going to be ready.
That look again, like he was talking to a deeply stupid person who simply would not listen. “You look for corpses laid out in a sacrificial cross. You look for corpses cut and marked and used as a beacon for things that should never be allowed into this world.”
I flinched a little, and he took mercy.
“Listen, kid. I need to go take care of the bad things that are coming. You need to take care of your people and try to get help for the sarge.” His tone remained patronizing and I felt my teeth lock down on each other. I wasn’t annoyed. I was angry.
“Miller!”
The eldest of the privates looked at me. “Yes, Corporal?”
“Get everyone on the road. Try to find help. See what you can do to keep the sarge alive. Tie up those two bastards and haul them with you. Me and Crowley are going to take care of some business with the Nazis.”
Miller nodded as did Nunnally and Januski who went back to patching up the sergeant as best he could. He wasn’t a medic. We didn’t have one any more, but he’d worked on a farm all his life and had taken care of more injuries than anyone else in the squad.
Crowley looked at me. “You think you should be coming with me instead of caring for your squad?”
“I think if you’re really doing something like taking care of whoever killed those folks, you might need back up.”
“I don’t.” He didn’t sound cocky when he said it.
“You’re getting it anyway.” In hindsight, that was maybe the dumbest thing I ever said.
Crowley stared at me for what seemed like a long time. Finally he nodded. He also smiled.
“Fine. Try to keep up.”
A moment later he was cutting back across the field he’d stormed to get to the Nazis in the first place. He didn’t quite run but it was close. I did my best to keep up.