Prosper (War Shadows: Book 1) SAMPLE

i-iii. Contact

               

Evelyn bent over her knees a few feet into the woods, catching her breath as Gene leaned against a tree, holding his leg and wincing. If his leg really was broken, she didn't know how he'd managed to get over there. He'd pretended like there wasn't a thing wrong with him, insisting on half hobbling, half running to the edge of the woods with only grimacing every time he put weight on that leg to show that there was anything wrong. They'd made it to the woods in good time, but at a cost: now, it didn't look like Gene could stand to put any weight on his bad leg, and Evelyn didn't think they would make it very far without the Germans spotting them if they were to slowly make their way through the woods, with her helping him walk. They were stuck, and she wasn't sure how to get them unstuck.

"How's your leg?" Evelyn asked quietly, looking up at Gene. The poor man: he looked a little green, as if he were on the verge of throwing up.

"Not good," he groaned. When he took his hand off of his leg, she saw that his leg was swelling, bad: if it swelled any more, they were going to have to cut his pants before they cut off the circulation in his leg. "I don't think I can walk, anymore."

Evelyn took a deep breath as she stood up straight, again. She could feel the panic swelling up in her chest like a balloon; it was all she could do to keep herself focused on the task at hand and to not run and hide under the nearest boulder.

She began to look around, looking for anything she could use to make a splint for Gene. They were surrounded by trees, all of which had branches that were a good thickness for splints, but she knew that she couldn't use any of them: everything that was already on the ground was too slim to be used for a splint, and it would make way more noise than they could afford to make. It seemed that Gene's leg would have to wait, as bad as it was starting to look.

"We'll get you help, soon," she said as she put his arm over her shoulder. He didn't seem to want her help: he chose to stand on one leg rather than lean on her. "Just hang on for a few more-"

A twig snapped behind them.

Evelyn and Gene reacted on pure instinct. Evelyn yanked her gun from the holster on her hip as Gene let go of her, allowing her to turn and face whoever was in the woods with them.

When she turned, she'd expected to see a German soldier with his gun drawn, ready to kill them both. Instead, all she saw was a man wearing a trench coat, khaki trousers, boots, a scarf and a hat. He held his hands out towards her, as if trying to show her that he didn't have a weapon on him, and his eyes were wide in surprise and fear.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" he said quickly. "I'm a friend, I swear."

Evelyn's shoulders relaxed now that she knew that she wasn't about to get shot, but she still held her gun up. "How do we know we can trust you?"

The man sighed, shaking his head. He almost seemed disappointed.

"Did Vera and all them really not tell you about me?" he asked, sighing. "I was told to get you two to a safe house."

Evelyn slowly put her gun back in its holster, but kept her eyes on the man, as did Gene. She still wasn't entirely sure that she could trust him: his timing seemed a little too perfect, for her liking.

"Who are you?" she asked as the man walked towards them.

"Gilbert Norman, at your service," he said. He began to look around, as if scanning the woods for any soldiers. "I wish we had some more time for introductions, but we need to get moving. There's a German patrol about a mile away from here; I don't think they'd appreciate seeing us sneaking around."