Part 9 (1/2)
”Sir, when I went to check on him, I found that he was dead,” awkwardly replied Agnar.
Sheridan looked over at Cole. ”Sergeant, check on the prisoner.”
A minute later, Cole returned. ”Sir, it looks like he was stabbed under the left arm and left to bleed out.”
Sheridan glared at Agnar.
”Sir, it wasn't me. I swear. The only time I wasn't guarding the prisoner was when I had to go to the bathroom.”
”Who watched him for you while you were gone?” asked Cole.
”It was Andrews, Sergeant.”
Cole called Andrews over. ”What do you know about the dead man?”
Andrews shook his head. ”Sergeant, I didn't kill him if that's what you're thinking.”
”Let me see your bayonets,” ordered Cole. Both soldiers handed over their knives.
Cole inspected them for a minute before giving Agnar's back to him. ”Andrews, there's blood on the hilt of your bayonet, care to explain how that got there?”
”It must have gotten on there when I helped Agnar cut meat from the bear you killed, Sergeant,” said Andrews.
”Agnar, is this true?” Sheridan asked.
”Yes, sir, Andrews helped me.”
Cole handed back Andrews his bayonet. ”Did either of you see anyone see go near the prisoner?”
”Now that you mention it, Tartov came around asking how the prisoner was doing,” said Andrews.
”I never saw him,” countered Agnar.
”He came around while you were off in the woods taking a c.r.a.p.”
”Ok, that'll do,” said Sheridan. ”I don't want the enemy to find the body. Bury him.”
”Get to it, Marines,” ordered Cole.
Grumbling to themselves, Agnar and Andrews went to bury the dead man.
Cole stepped close. ”What do you think, sir? Could Tartov be responsible for murdering the prisoner?”
Sheridan shook his head. ”I don't know. However, while Andrews and Agnar bury the body, I want you to take Obermman aside and ask him about Andrews. From the time, they got on s.h.i.+ft at the engine room on the Churchill right up to the minute they wandered into our camp. I want to know everything.”
Cole walked away and took Obermman, who was on sentry, by the arm. He returned five minutes later shaking his head.
”What did he say?” asked Sheridan.
”He didn't say anything that would make me suspicious. I asked him to keep the conversation between the two of us.”
”Thanks.”
”It'll be dark soon,” observed Cole, looking up at the ominous-looking gray clouds as they rolled in.
”Yeah, let's hope that we don't b.u.mp into any Kurgan patrols tonight. We've been lucky so far. I'd hate for us to get so close that we can touch the city walls only to be caught by the enemy.”
Cole patted Sheridan on the shoulder. ”Sir, you've done well so far. Keep it up and we'll get some real food and a decent night's sleep for a change in a few days.”
Sheridan smiled. He noted that it was unbelievable what just a few words could do to raise a person's flagging spirits.
Two hours later, Sheridan's mood turned foul when they stumbled upon a ditch filled with bodies. He stopped counting after thirty. All of them had been killed by a single shot to the back of the head. He had Agnar find two civilian winter jackets. When Agnar returned, Sheridan moved back and led his people around the ditch so Kelly Green wouldn't see the dead.
Off to their right, hundreds of Kurgan guns thundered away. The ground shook under their feet. A couple of kilometers away, the forward edge of the capital was a long wall of fire as the houses there burnt to the ground.
After another hour's walk, Sheridan called for a fifteen-minute break. They had come close enough to the refugee camp that they could smell the wood burning from a thousand fires. He called Cole up to his position.
”What are you thinking, sir?” asked Cole.
”I want to get a better look at the refugee camp. I believe that we may be able to find someone there who may know a way into the city,” explained Sheridan.
”Even if with your grubby beard, you're still in uniform, you'll stand out like a sore thumb.”
”I thought about that and had Agnar grab us a couple of civilian jackets from the dead bodies we found a while back.”
”Sir, if you get caught, they'll shoot you as a spy for being out of uniform.”
”Sergeant, I think that's the last of my worries after seeing what they have been doing to the civilians,” replied Sheridan.
”Ok then, sir, what's your plan?”
”I want you to hold up here for the rest of the night. If Agnar and I aren't back by first light, it'll mean that we aren't coming back and you can carry on without us.”
After a quick handshake, Sheridan handed off his rifle to Cole, as did Agnar. Walking around with a standard issue rifle over one's shoulder was a surefire recipe to being spotted and shot, reasoned Sheridan. He still had his pistol and Agnar his knife, not the best weapons to go against the Kurgans with, but it was better than nothing at all.
Keeping to the trees, Sheridan led them towards the closest campfires. When they were close enough to hear voices, he raised a hand; they stopped and listened for a couple of minutes. The voices sounded tired and disheartened. When he didn't detect anyone speaking Kurgan, Sheridan grew bold. He told Agnar to remain in the shadows while he took a look around. A second later, he stepped out of the dark and walked straight towards a group of people huddled around a fire for warmth. He could see that they were a mix of people; some were well over sixty, while many were young couples holding onto their children.
”May I join you?” asked Sheridan, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.
A man with a scraggly gray beard and thick gla.s.ses looked up at Sheridan. He studied the dirty and disheveled man standing before him for a moment. With a warm smile, he said, ”Of course, you can, stranger. Please join us by the fire. I'm sorry that we can't offer you any food as we have none to give.”
Sheridan thanked the man and took a seat on a log next to the old man. Before he could say a word, a blanket was laid over his legs.
”They have drones flying over the camp, night, and day. They'll see your trousers, soldier boy,” whispered the man.
”Thanks,” replied Sheridan, realizing that he was safe and among friends.