“You are English?” she said hesitantly from her hiding place.
Purdue perked up. He was not sure if he heard what he thought he did, so he just listened. “Are you hurt?” she said again.
“Where are you?” he gasped. “I am from Scotland, yes. Your English is good.”
She stood up, drawing Purdue’s attention. “Merci.”
He waded through the uneven growth of bushes to her side and whispered, “I hope your family was not there in that town.”
“My family is dead. Long ago. But those people were like family,” she cried. Her small hands covered her eyes as her body shook, making Purdue feel a hundred times worse about bringing Diekmann and his devils here.
“I’m so very sorry. They were looking for one of their commanders and we thought he was here,” Purdue explained in the most tender voice he could manage. They sat in the silence of the wildness outside the two that was still alight with tormenting fires.
“That man you are looking for is in Oradour-sur-Veyres,” she mentioned matter-of-factly, playing in the ground with a stick she picked up to defend herself with before.
Purdue sighed, “Yes, we know that now. But now it is too late for your town.”
“So if you let them find him all this death would be for nothing,” she speculated, impressing Purdue with her mature sensibilities. “Are you going to lead them there to kill those people too?”
Her words shocked Purdue to the core. At first he wanted to retort, but he realized that she was absolutely correct. He would cause another massacre if he allowed Diekmann to know where Kämpfe really was. Nina had the right information, Lydia gave him the right information and he went and gave the wrong details. It was all his fault and he had to make up for it. In his mind he figured that he could still procure the Tesla schematics from Helmut if he could find his way to Oradour-sur-Veyres.
“No, I am fleeing from them too,” he said. “My name is Dave. And I am going to make sure the same fate does not fall to the next town.”
“I’m Celeste,” she said. “If you want to warn them, we should go now in the night, Dave. I want to get as far from Oradour as I can! Please.”
“So do I, young Celeste, so do I,” Purdue said firmly. “But how will we get there?”
“Come,” she said, and got up. “We have to get to Henri’s farm. He can take us to the town if we tell him what it is about.”
“Who is Henri?” he asked her.
“A farmer we know well. His son is one of my friends and he is in touch with the Resistance. I will not tell them that you came with the intruders otherwise they might arrest or kill you,” Celeste said.
“That is a good point. The prisoner they have there has something of mine that I want back,” Purdue lied, but if Helmut was anything like the animals he was to be rescued by, there was no reason to feel sorry for him.
Purdue and Celeste stalked through the trees and along the rocks, keeping out of the moonlight most of the time. In his mind Purdue was very worried about reporting to Lydia and with the night overhead it was a constant reminder that his days in this point of the tapestry had come to an end. As long as he could collect the schematics soon he could get to a place where he could use the BAT, hopefully to return home.
“Come, over here,” Celeste whispered, jerking at Purdue’s sleeve. “There, down there, see?” He looked down on the shallow valley and saw two small structures in the trees where a yellow glow emanated through the windows. On approach they heard that the farm’s people were outside, talking with someone else.
“It looks like Joseph Jean is there too,” Celeste whispered as she ducked through the trees, leading Purdue along in the shadows of the trees.
“Who is he?” he asked her.
“The leader of the local militia,” she revealed. “He will definitely be able to take you to the German officer.
Purdue was nervous. If word came out that he came with Diekmann’s unit he would be done for. There was no way of telling how the farmers would construe the arrival of a stranger from nowhere accompanying a child from the town the Nazi’s had just decimated and razed utterly. His French was good enough to understand the people in front of the house, but he told Celeste that he would prefer she translate for them when needed.
“Who’s there?” Henri shouted into the dark trees as Celeste and Purdue came down the small winding path. He aimed with his shotgun into the dark, joined shortly after by Joseph. Both men had their barrels pointing right at the two figures they discerned in the shadows.
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot, Henri!” Celeste cried. “Raise your hands, Dave,” she told her companion. Her voice was shaky.
At such a young age the poor girl had not just had to endure the death of her parents years ago but now she had lost her only home and the only people she still had to protect her. Her flight thus far had kept her calm from necessity, to help the English stranger and to stay alive in the grasp of the Nazi’s, but the girl was still in shock from the attack and from what she had to witness. Trauma was edging away at her nerves and her vulnerable psyche, but she had to get to safety first, before she could start to process what had happened to her.
“Celeste?” Henri frowned. “Marie! Marie, it is Celeste! She is alive!” He aced to swoop up the girl in a tight embrace, but Purdue kept his gesture of surrender while the other man held him up with the gun.
For the first time Celeste allowed herself to cry again. Henri’s wife, Marie, came out with a shawl to cover the girl. She embraced Celeste and consoled her as she broke down.
“Sit down by the fire,” Henri told Purdue as they pushed him into the small house.
Celeste recovered long enough to speak again. “This is Dave. He saved me from the Nazi’s and he is looking for the prisoner you have, Jean. Can you help us?”
Jean and Henri stared at Purdue, and then exchanged astonished glances between them. The whole house went quiet and even Henri’s wife let go of Celeste for a moment to look at Purdue. In the firelight they could now see him properly and their faces froze in suspicion, and an inkling of fear.
“What do you want with the prisoner?” Jean asked Purdue, breaking the spell they all seemed to have fallen under for a second.
“He has papers, designs, of a very dangerous weapon the Nazi’s want to use to kill their enemies in their masses. I was sent to make sure he does not get those papers back to the Germans,” Purdue explained, using some dramatic license to enhance his story and look better in their eyes. He reckoned that telling them how their friends were tortured and killed because of him might bring him some disadvantage. It was imperative that the French Resistance see him as an ally.
“Are you related to him?” Henri asked.
“No, not at all. Why?” Purdue asked in alarm. He did not need to be affiliated with Helmut Kämpfe at all, especially among these people.
“Bring Dave some water, please. You have never met him before, the captive?” Henri asked as his wife got Purdue something to drink.
“No, never. That is why Celeste suggested I ask for Jean to take me to him. I have no idea what he looks like,” Purdue admitted, gratefully accepting the cool water from Marie.
The men scoffed, even smiled a little.
“We’ll take you to him in the early morning,” Jean agreed finally. Purdue had no choice but to trust them. For now he had to get some rest and hope that Diekmann would not send emissaries looking for him before he got to Kämpfe. More than that, he was terribly worried about the BAT and its rapidly withering power.