What Charlotte Said; W. Schofield

6.

Instantly the three of them were crawling through disgusting blood-mud mixtures. For Charlie, this was a new, horrible sight she had never dreamt of seeing. The land reeked of dead bodies and blood, gunpowder and various gas residues. She had imagined no man's land before, but never actually seen the horrors that were splayed before her now. It took everything in her body not to gag as she crawled through the mud next to her companions. When the trio met the first small indent in the ground, Schofield looked to Blake, then to Mercer, nodding. Charlie hadn't the slightest idea what this meant, but the two got to their feet and began off in a low walking fashion, guns in hand. Schofield brought up the head, Mercer at the back, being sure to have them both in her sight. In a sense it reminded her of the children she used to babysit. They would take long walks through the wood by her home, and she always made sure to have them both in sight, constantly looking out for danger of any sort. However, now the danger was in the form of a foreigner with a gun. She kept her eyes ahead, focusing on the lump just in front of Schofield, this was a recently dead horse, likely just from the other night. The beast lay toppled over in the mud neck outstretched in a crying fashion. Schofield stepped over the beast, and continued on. Mercer looked at it for a moment as she stepped over it after Blake, her mind wandering to where the rider might be. Flies festered along its joints, creating a grotesque picture of rotting flesh and the animals which called it a feast. Blake shot her a disgusted look and Charlie raised her brow at him. Now she saw a new sight, the horrible tangle of barbed wire and wooden spokes that littered the horizon, various things stuck in their bramble. Men, both German, British and French alike, bloodied and caught in its thicket. Just before the wire, lay another dead horse, this one much further decomposed. Its face lay skinless, a brown-white, still festering skull was slightly covered by mud. This one the trio walked around to the left side of, finally reaching the barbed wire. Schofield went first, stepping warily into its branches.

"Careful." Charlie hissed out of instinct and Blake looked back at her, giving a quaint nod. She entered the barbed wire after them, grasping on stray wooden planks which jutted out to steady herself. When they completed the first round of wire, the two, Blake and Schofield split apart, leaving Mercer in the center, sauntering forward blindly. Ahead was a dead German soldier seemingly bowing over a bit of barbed wire which held him in place. Schofield stood to the dead man's left and held the barbed wire back for Blake and Mercer to cross the next round of wire easier. Blake hurried through first, panting and gasping coming from his side as Schofield struggled to hold the bit of metal back. As Charlie passed the man, she couldn't help but make quick eye contact. The two's eyes met for a moment, before Schofields hand slipped and caught the barbed wire. He fell back and grunted, the wire holding his hand up.

"Fuck, Scho." Charlotte murmured and carefully pulled the wire from his hand, steading the man.

"You alright?" Blake said from ahead.

"He'll be ok." I murmured, looking at the lacerations on his palm. "Just to the next break, yeah? I'll have something for it." Charlie met his eyes again then dropped them.

"Alright." Schofield winced and the two carried on after Blake, "look for cover." He whispered harshly to Blake who poked his head above the wire. Ahead was a wide expanse of ... well, nothing. Flat, muddy lands and halves of trees stood scattered out in its immediate extremity. Blake began off to the left, sliding quickly into a crater left by artillery, grunting and alarming Mercer.. The crater was about halfway full of muddy slosh and about nine feet long, two dead soldiers lay half buried in its arms. Mercer was the next to slide into the crater, immediately noticing the bodies. She first went to the one above water, removing a bit of dirt from his neck and checking his pulse. Anyone could have guessed he was dead, the young man had a pale complexion and was laid motionless, but Mercer didn't want to take the chance of leaving someone alive behind. She dug through to his shirt and snapped his dog tag from his neck, placing them in her pocket.