Using the grenade explosion as a distraction, Hale immediately stood up and began using his ski poles to pull himself toward the top of the hill. Moments before he reached the ridge a shot rang out. Hale felt a huge crushing weight slam into his back which caused him to topple over the top of the ridge just in front of him. He lost his balance and tumbled down the hillside. Just before he reached the bottom of the gully, he crashed into a tree. Pain now wracked both the front and back of his body.
He took a few moments to take stock of the situation through his pain addled mind. I’m hit! He thought, his inner voice laced with panic as fear exploded in his mind.
Hale took a deep breath and removed his rifle from his shoulder. The pain in his back shifted to a dull throb. I thought being shot would feel worse than this.
He reached around with his left hand and felt the place on his back that throbbed. He brought his hand back around and stared at it for a moment, No blood?
Surprised, Hale then looked at his rifle. Just below the bolt, and right where the metal section joined with the wooden stock, was a faint indention on the metal. He breathed in silent relief and looked up at the sky, Thank you God.
His moment of reverie was abruptly ended by the voices of several Russians. They had returned to the top of the ridgeline that he had just tumbled from. The Soviets were hunting for him. As they gazed down the hillside, they saw his movement, raised their rifles, and simultaneously snapped off three shots in his direction. The bullets impacted the ground around him and kicked up snow. Hale, stayed low, and quickly checked his rifle to ensure it was in working order.
When Hale was done with his rifle, he looked up at the source of the gunfire. He saw three enemy soldiers. Their green forms were silhouetted by the gray sky behind them. He raised his rifle in the direction of the middle one and took aim. He pulled the trigger and felt his Nagant kick against his shoulder as it roared and sent death on its way. Nearly an instant later all three men dropped to the ground seeking cover. One of them would never rise again.
Hale pulled the bolt on his rifle ejecting the spent bullet. Two more shots rang out. This time the bullets were nowhere near him, Just trying to keep me down. They can’t see me now that they are on the ground. He thought.
Hale released his boots from his skis and crawled around to the other side of the tree to put it between himself and the enemy. As he did so several more shots rang out. They were all too high, The cowards are scared to rise and take aim. Hale thought in amusement.
Without warning his mind slipped back to that day he hid in the creek bed. The two larger boys, one with red hair, the other with black, had pushed him up against a large elm tree. The largest, a boy of perhaps fourteen who had been far too fond of sweets, grinned at Hale and said, “Did you think you were going to get away with that little worm?”
Hale’s eyes narrowed as he glared back at the fat boy and struggled against the arms that grasped him from behind before smiling and saying, “Of course, everyone knows you’re the dumbest boy in the school.”
The larger boy’s plump cheeks flushed until they matched the color of his hair. Enraged, he let out a scream and slammed his fist into Hale’s abdomen. Hale gasped as pain exploded in his stomach. The red hair boy’s freckled face contorted into a menacing grin as he said, “I hope you enjoyed that you little shit. There is more to come. Much more.”
The fat boy’s voice trailed off as Hale looked down at the bully’s shoes. He could see his reflection in their black well-polished leather. The reflection of his face taunted him. He looked back up at the red headed boy, smiled, and spat in his face.
Enraged at Hale’s defiance, the overweight bully screamed, and threw punch after punch at Hale. Hale’s mind exploded in anguish at the pain of that day as the memory faded and his thoughts returned to reality as another volley of bullets zipped by overhead.
Hale stood up and took a quick glance around the tree trunk. The attempt was awarded with a shot and a bullet that whistled by where his head had been a moment before. They’ve figured out my exact location. Hale looked at the forest around him. He sighed as he saw no avenue of escape, that left one option, I’ve got to take them down before they get me.
Hale pondered the situation for a moment. As he did so, another bullet slammed into the tree he was using as a shield between himself and the Soviet soldiers. I need a distraction. Hale took stock of everything he had with him, his rifle, pistol, magazines, clothing and coat. Everything he wore, save his pants, was the color of snow. Then his eyes shifted to the fur lined cap on his head and he grinned. Worth a shot I guess. Maybe two. He silently chuckled at his own pun.
Hale raised his rifle up with his left hand and rested the stock on his shoulder. With his right, he removed his hat, and then reached around the tree and threw it toward the two soldiers on the top of the hill. Two shots immediately reverberated through the trees as Hale dropped his own rifle into place and took aim at one of the figures sitting on the ridgeline. He took a deep breath and held it. Both men operated the bolts on their own rifles as they glanced nervously down at Hale’s form taking aim at them.
As they started to raise their rifles, Hale fired his rifle. His target’s green cap flew off his head as his bullet found its mark and he crumpled to the ground. The other man quickly returned fire at Hale. He missed. Unphased by the return fire, Hale quickly operated the bolt on his rifle as the hastily fired shot sailed past him. He took aim on the second man as he frantically operated the bolt on his rifle to drop another bullet into the chamber.
The rifle jammed, and the man’s resolve broke. He stood to flee down the hillside behind him. He didn’t make it. Hale crouched back down behind the tree he used to hide from the slain soldiers and listened. The only sounds that filled his ears was those of the woodland. Snowflakes striking the earth, and the sounds tree branches creaking in the wind. Gone was the sound of voices, footsteps, and gunfire. He was alone.
He sat there for several minutes just listening to the frantic beat of his heart as it thundered in his ears. When it finally slowed, he gathered up his skis and slowly made his way toward the corpses of his enemies. The first one he found nearby at the bottom of the hill in front of him. He searched it and found two things of interest to him, a bottle of vodka, and a grenade.
Hale slipped the grenade into his belt and stood. He unscrewed the cap off the vodka, and took a sip. As the vodka burned its way down his throat, he heard a shot ring out off to his north. He smiled and thought, The day was young and there were many more invaders that needed killing.
Chapter 2
Hale’s knuckles turned white as he clenched the steering wheel in front of him. Beads of sweat slid down his forehead as he drove the truck along the gravel road. As he glanced to his left, trees whipped by in a blur as his foot kept the accelerator pressed the to the floor.
As the sweat started dripping into his eyes, he released his left hand from its death grip upon the steering wheel. He glanced at his hand as he raised it up to his forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat, it was shaking. Sighing deeply, he glanced to his right at the empty cab. The other seat in the cab was empty except for the hand grenade that rolled around upon it.
How much longer? Hale wondered nervously. Despite his anxiety, the tree speckled white lands outside the truck’s windows dulled his senses and his thoughts began to drift into the past.