“Oh. Hm. What would you have me do, Herr Standartenfuehrer?”
“Hopefully nothing. But the men outside need to know what’s happened to them, and you’re the man to best answer any questions they may have.”
Hans nodded and gave Sarah’s paw one final squeeze. He went back outside with the commander. The crowd had grown larger. It looked as if around 200 men were gathered around. Most of them wore SS collars.
“Kamerads,” Peiper took their attention.
“We were all very mistaken about our situation. This is not Bavaria. To you this may sound strange, but we are in some other world. Some other place. And the injured woman in that bunker is living proof of that.”
“I don’t know this world at all, but one of our comrades has trekked in it for months to the place we now stand. He told me stories of animals that stand upright like we do. Some friendly, some not. He says this world has empires, large cities on far-off shores, magic, of expansive forests and terrible beasts. We also may not be alone. Someone is flying one of our aircraft over the cities of this world. These are all things we may face, or perhaps not.”
“But, more importantly, for you, I want you to know that our war is over. The ancient virtues we rekindled and held up were hated by various governments of the world. Luckily for us, the indolence and hate of those nations are not present in this world, and in good time I believe you’ll find that a blessing. You all deserve long, prosperous, lives. That’s what I intend on creating here. A place made in our image, by our ideals and ours alone.”
“Starting tomorrow! We will begin building a modest place for every man here, and we will not stop until every one of you has a roof over your head that you can call your own.”
Within the crowd many faces turned to smiles at the commander’s last statement.
“I want to introduce you to Gefreiter Hans Hepner.”
Hans looked down as all eyes shifted to him.
“Gefreiter Hepner is the one who has journeyed in this world for several months. He has had contact with many races. Consider Gefreiter Hepner to be our guide and our ambassador to the outside world. He is from the Grossdeutschland and, from my impressions, he is a good man worthy of your trust.”
Blunt
“Over there,” Sturmbannfuehrer Poetschke’s voice directed Vahn’s attention to a hillock crowned by an old wooden drinking trough. It looked abandoned.
“Search that area. There has to be some people hiding around here.”
Poetschke’s Kompanie had pushed out of Wolven territory, but even still their commander was trying to evacuate villagers as their battle group drove east, closer toward Oxbane’s encampment.
Vahn and three others scaled the hill and soon found a small collection of huts pressed together in a valley.
“Let’s go,” he said over the noisy mooing of a nearby cow. The spearmen followed close behind.
They approached the hovel without making a sound. Vahn craned forward and edged inside. It was dark. Utensils lay on the table, and there was a bowl sitting on the counter, as if those things had been recently used.
“Hello? There are battles coming. We’re here to move you further west. Rock bombs could hit this home at anytime.”
The three of them stepped in, one of them opened a cupboard and the other lifted up a pallet. No one was here.
“Strange. The people here must have fled before we arrived.”
“Come on,” Vahn said, “forget about these furres. They’re probably just Lapine rabbits anyway.”
He was right. There was no time to spare because Poetschke was already moving toward the nearby spring and even further on to Oxbane’s encampment.
Vahn and the others followed Poetschke’s boot tracks into Balaton forest. After an hour of walking they found their leader in a clearing with many others buzzing around him.
“We found only empty huts, sir. No sign of anyone,” Vahn explained. A cloud of white vapor puffed from his snout as he breathed.
“That will have to do,” Poetschke replied. “Come on. Let’s keep moving east.”
The Kompanie continued its march. Wherever the enemy was, it wasn’t in this forest any longer. The ‘Khanate’s’ warriors must have retreated hastily, because the sun was already at its apogee, and still the wolves had seen nothing since the opening attack.
“We take this place. The edge of this forest. Then we send scouts to the plains. Who knows what they have ahead.”
“YIPE!”
A line of axes flew into the forest, one of the axes hit a wolf from the front and cut him down. Vahn jumped onto the snow and flattened himself with the rest of the Kompanie. Poetschke fired back in the axes direction and ran over to one of the fallen canine, who was screaming in pain.
The ax cut into the wolf’s spine and through the ribs, and now he was flopping uncontrollably on the ground. He was in shock and would never walk again. Poetschke knew what he had to do: He took the spear tip and jammed it through the back of the fallen wolf’s neck and through to the brain, and ended his suffering.
Vahn peeked up to see several ax-hurlers, maybe five, behind a brick lain barrier, with some dozen monsters around guarding the nest. He heard the whistle to pull back deeper behind the trees, where Poetschke huddled his ‘Kapitans.’ The blonde human unhooked his belt of ‘mashers’ and called Vahn over.
“Vahn, we’re going to charge the fort. You’re the one best suited for this. They have a good defensive position, but our force is superior here, and we have to keep going. You just find your way to the throwers, and use the mashers to get rid of the enemy.”
It was best not to think much about these things before they happened. Vahn strapped on the mashers and picked up a spear with the rest. When Poetschke’s whistle blew again, the wolves looked nervously at one another and dashed for the light, only to be met with another wall of flying axes and even blades. There was another scream and the wolves scurried back into the protective slope of their wooded position.
Upon seeing the wolves back away, Poetschke’s face turned beet red. Gripped by a towering rage, he reloaded his hand cannon and pointed it toward one of the shocked Kapitans.
“One step to the back, any of you, and I will personally shoot you myself.”
One of the fellows stared at Vahn in silence, pleading for him to do something about the mad human commanding them. Vahn ignored the fellow and looked on through the trees at the monsters, who made a loose shield around the throwers.
Then the whistle blew again. Vahn stared into the abyss and darted out again into the light. A Grimeskin was coming right for him when Poetschke’s cannon went off. Vahn winced and half expected Poetshke’s aim to be for him, but instead the cannon knocked down the Grimeskin. Poetschke had created an opening for Vahn. Vahn dropped to the ground and began crawling his way forward.
All around him he heard snarls emerging from various sides of the forest. This time the wolves ignored the threat of murderous axes and descended onto the Grimeskins in packs. In the mayhem Vahn crawled forward, stalking in on the square of red bricks that sheltered the throwers.
Poetschke then sprinted from the cover of the trees and fired bullets at the throwers, keeping them down. The tiny cannonballs whizzed over Vahn’s head and confused the enemy.
Now was the time. Vahn got up and charged, pulling the plug on one of the mashers. The monsters saw him and one of them gave chase, but it was too late. Three more seconds. He sprinted wildly at the pinned-in axe-hurlers, tossed the masher in and rolled into the snow. With a crash the stick exploded, hurling soil and stray earthen bricks in every direction.
Flying debris blocked the light as Vahn stayed put, hearing snarls and screams from several places. When the smoke settled, Poetschke was the first person Vahn saw.