Chapter 10
He stood in place for a moment, sucking in several deep breaths before turning in her direction. Liesabet's heart stopped dead in her chest. Her knees went completely weak and her face no doubt lost most of its color. It was him. Rory.
Her good hand flew to her face and she let out an uncontrollable cry of disbelief into her palm. He looked older and harder somehow, and his face no longer seemed to carry the jovial lightness she remembered, but there was no mistake. It was him. He began to move away and she frantically realized that she had to do something, but her legs seemed glued into place and no words would come. The shadows were beginning to envelope his retreating form and any evidence that he had been there began to slowly slip away before she finally managed a strangled gasp. His name formed on her lips helplessly.
At first she thought he had not heard her but then he paused. Turning slightly he glanced over his shoulder just as she limped out of the shadows into the moonlight. His face registered confusion at the skeletal figure before him.
Struggling with her emotions, she at last succeeded in whispering his name aloud. His entire countenance changed as he cautiously stepped closer towards her.
"Was hast du gesagt? What did you say?"
"Rory.....it's..me", she said again hoarsely.
"How do you know my.....oh mein gott. Nein...nein...nein....it can't be", he said slowly as he stepped even closer. "Oh mein gott....Liesabet?"
Overcome with emotion, all she could do was nod as tears poured down her bloodied face. Her hands fell limply at her sides and for the first time in many months, a laugh escaped her lips. The joyful sound burbled its way through her and was nearly overtaken with the sobs that quickly followed. By now he had almost reached her side as tears of his own sprang afresh in those deep blue eyes that she remembered so clearly.
The moment he was close enough he immediately gathered her into his arms, nearly crushing her beneath him. Her broken arm and ribs shrieked in protest and she bit back a gasp. Burying her face into his shoulder, she breathed in deeply, desperately longing to catch a whiff of something familiar, something from home.
Hot tears melted onto his uniform as she caught a whiff of his aftershave, and she could feel trickles of his own tears running down onto her neck as well as the rapid rise and fall of his heaving chest next to hers.
He kept repeating over and over, "Oh mein Gott, oh mein gott, I can't believe it", in a husky and incredulous tone.
When he finally pulled back enough to see her face, his own was wet and taut with emotion. Up close she could see the lines of weariness and fatigue running across his young face that should have been non-existant. Several days of scrubble dotted his jawline and his eyes bore the look of a man who had seen too much suffering.
"You have no idea what ran through my head when I saw your home, your cello zerschlagen on the street.....I thought you were dead."
"I feel as if Iam dead", she replied softly, looking away past him toward the guardtowers and the men manning them with searchlights and guns.
"How long have you been here like this?", he asked quietly, seeming to notice her disheveled appearance for the first time. Her face was bruised and cut with one eye nearly swollen shut. "And what happened to you? Why are you bleeding?"
She snorted bitterly with a choking sob, "Too long."
The loss of blood was beginning to affect her along with the shock of the day's events and he felt her beginning to weave back and forth on her feet.
"What's wrong, what happened?", he asked clearly worried yet unable to see the blood that was beginning to leak through her jacket.
A sudden twinge of pain shot through her twisted arm and she clutched it to her chest, cradling it with her other hand. By now the shock of the day's events and the loss of blood was beginning to affect her. She felt her legs swaying beneath her and he quickly ran his hands down her back to stabilize her. Halfway down he suddenly stopped and she saw a muscle in his jaw twitch visibly in the moonlight. Bringing his hand into the light he saw the unmistakable wetness glimmering on his fingers.
In a low voice that quivered with rage she heard him ask, "Were you the one they were beating earlier?"
She merely nodded, now realizing that he must have arrived on the truck earlier with all the others.
He swiftly turned her around to face the other way. "They made us watch, the bastards", he hissed through his teeth.
Slipping down the back of her soiled jacket he exposed the protruding bones and jagged wounds that laced her thin back, still leaking blood. She heard him swear sharply under his breath and a moment later felt his fingertips brush ever so lightly over her. The pain was too great and she winced as a moan escaped her lips.
"Oh gott.....what have they done to you?", she heard him sob softly as he withdrew his touch.
A moment later she heard the sound of ripping cloth and she turned to find him tearing strips of fabric from his shirt.
"Your shirt!", she protested weakly.
"Shh, nevermind the shirt. I have another. Now hold still", he replied while slowly wrapping them loosely about her middle to cover the bleeding wound and protruding bone.
"There", he whispered softly.
"You need to see the nurse, those bones need to be set", he said quietly.
"I can't go there, no one who goes there comes back. I'll be fine", she replied in a false show of bravado for him.
He sighed before taking her in his arms again and placing a light kiss atop her head.
The pair stood that way for a time before finally Rory seemed to realize that she could not stand for much longer. Taking off his jacket he slipped it around her trembling shoulders and then sat down, his back against a barrack wall. Holding out his hand he helped her to sit on his lap where he cradled her softly in his arms.
"How did you get here?", Liesabet finally said after a moment of quiet.
"They drafted me, he replied with a heavy sigh, but I didn't want to fight. I was told that there were other things for men like me. Apparently this was it.
"I'm sorry Rory that you had to see me like this", she said softly before her sentence trailed off into the night.
"It doesn't matter, I'm going to get you out of here somehow", he replied in a low voice.
At this Liesabet struggled to sit up and look him straight in the face. "Nein! You can't! They will kill you."
Snorting, he shook his head. "I'm Deutsch Liesabet, they won't kill me."
"Who will stop them?"
"And what then, he demanded with a scowl, I do nothing until you die or they kill you?"
Liesabet shook her head and placed her good hand hand on his face softly. "I don't know Rory, but please just promise me you'll do nothing foolish."
Muscles jerked in his face as he stared straight ahead into the night. "Foolish?! I lost you once, I don't think I could do it again."
"Rory please, I'm begging you."
This time he looked down at her and she saw tears of helplessness forming in his eyes. He ran a hand over her filthy hair and down the side of her battered face gently. "I have to do something. Look at yourself, they nearly killed you today. And for what? For what?"
The sight of him so broken made Liesabet bite her tongue and protest no longer. Instead she placed a soft kiss on his lips and whispered that she should return to her barrack. The moon was slowly sliding down and dawn promised to arrive in a few short hours.
Reluctantly Rory stood and helped her back to her feet. He slipped his jacket back on and enfolded her into his arms for a final embrace. She breathed in deeply the scent of him, to preserve and keep in her mind until they could meet again.
"This can be our special place, I'll come any nights I can sneak away yes?", he said softly to her.
She nodded and wiped more tears from her cheeks.
"Don't worry, I'll be watching out for you. You'd best go now."
Her mind reeling she turned from him and began her slow and painful walk back to her barrack, dodging the beams of the light from the guardtower's searchlights.
Rolling back into her bunk admidst complaints and grumbling from her bedmates, Liesabet found herself wrapped in an intense cloud of worry for Rory. The rest of the night she received very little sleep and when they were awoken in the morning she was an emotional and physical wreck. Her wounds had barely closed and were caked with dried dirt. To her horror she even discovered small bugs crawling across them as well.
Brushing them off in disgust she limped to roll call in severe pain. It was agony. Her arm was nearly numb and every breath she took brought the sensation of being stabbed mercilessly in the side. She swallowed hard and fought to stay concious but as the sun rose in the sky she felt herself weaving on her feet. If it hadn't been for Corrie who somehow managed to sneak her way through the ranks to her side, she feared she would not have lasted another five minutes.
After breakfast, work was assigned and when Liesabet heard her number called she felt nauseous. She was to carry timbers left by a truck overnight with half of the other women to a place unknown up the road from the camp. In her heart she knew that she would not be able to do it.
But rather than risk saying something she merely marched with all the other women and hoped that she would be lost in the crowd.
That was not to be the case however, after several failed attempts to look busy a guard pointed her out to another who came to her side and taking one look at her, called for her to be taken to the infirmary.
A stretcher was summoned and she was hoisted upon it. She thought at that moment that her life was to end. They were going to kill her.
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