The sound of the guns outside was nothing compared to the bombing, but I knew that in a way, the gun’s were more of a threat. They leave their mark inside of you, the bullet lodged deep down. I couldn’t even imagine the pain of it. I’d been hit by stones, thrown with slingshots by some of the younger boys, but a gun? The only people who owned guns around here were the sheriff and the butcher, so he could kill his animals with one clean shot to the head.
The noise grew distant from me, though I knew it really wasn’t any further away than it had been moments earlier. What made it fade was the shock.
The shock of the bombs.
The shock of being covered, head to toe, in bruises and open wounds from that single blast.
The shock of my parents possibly being dead.
It was all too much. I was only nine, after all. A child wasn’t supposed to deal with things like this.
Uncle Leo and Mr. Gorby were trying to get everyone to be as quiet as possible and stacking sacks and boxes around the walls. Wes and the other men were doing the same, across the tight space. The twins were trying to sooth the youngest of us, the babies, as they wept. Callum was still holding onto me, but I felt myself slipping, falling to the dirt, curling into a ball, watching. He reached out a wary hand, brushing the hair from my face, peeling off the strands that stuck to my face with blood.
He leaned down, close to my ear, so only I could hear him. “It’ll be okay, Minnie.” He murmured, his eyes the only brightness in the room. “As long as I’m here for you…It’ll be okay.”
The men had covered most of the wall space with the boxes and sacks before they ran out of them. “Everybody go to the back. Children and women behind the men. Go!” Everyone started to move, shuffling around the children and herding them to the back wall, where it was completely underground. Callum helped me to my feet, leading me back and sat me in the corner, kneeling in front of me. Then the women, about seven of them, kneeled in front of us, holding onto their children. The men then sat in front of the women, completing the barrier.
Then, it was still. The only movements were outside, the sound of running and shooting. A bomb dropped somewhere further away.
The shooting was becoming louder, the soldiers getting closer and closer to our hideaway. Everyone pressed themselves down, covering each other in anticipation.
Finally, the first bullet hit the wall outside. Then another. The knob started shaking frantically. There was muffled shouting outside of the door, then silence. I couldn’t even imagine what it was that they were planning, as I squeezed my eyes shut, Callum pressing down on me, trying to cover me completely. Willa and Millie were next to me, shielding Callum. Wes was in the front by Uncle Leo, but I wished he could be next to us, the protector of all of his family. I worried he would be hurt, too, being open like that. But he watched the door with a solid expression. He knew what he was doing.
Something dropped in front of the door and then one of the soldiers shouted for them to run. Only a few seconds later, did I figure out exactly what it was that they were doing.
A loud blast that shook me to bones ripped through the metal walls. The crates and grain-sacks fell on us, most of them bursting open or breaking. Collective screams filled the air. Something had pierced my leg, sending a burning sensation throughout my body. It was too painful to even mutter a cry without going into a full-out, heart-stopping screech.
Dust clouded the air, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you. As we knew the soldiers would be back any moment, everyone started to get up and climb their way through the ruble. For the one’s without families, it had become ‘fend for yourself’, and they were doing exactly that. Millie and Willa were getting up, pulling Callum up with them. He tried to lift me to my feet as well, but as soon as pressure was put on my left leg, it gave way and I fell on my face.
