the delicious wolves

6: your beauty must be rubbing off

1929

Pat hadn't even reached Deritend, the halfway point between Birmingham and Sparkhill, before he heard the sound of racing hoofs behind him. Already feeling on edge he kicked his horse to go faster - and the hooves behind him sped up, moving closer. His anxiety and anger from the evening bled into this moment. Pat quickly looked back, and wasn't in the West Midlands anymore, but on a dark road in Northern France.

1917

"Fatty, if you are trying to get us killed, then by all means continue blundering around like an idiot," Will muttered angrily, staring at the chubby private.

Frederic 'Fatty' Billings was from Birmingham as well, though Pat and Will had never met him until going off to war. Will had taken an instant dislike to the chubby lad, and for some reason quite foreign to Pat, the worse Will treated him, the more Fatty looked up to him with something akin to hero worship. Will wouldn't know it for several years, but it was thanks to meeting Fatty that Will would day day marry Estella Brand (neé Billings).

Will, Fatty, Pat, and Schreiter all huddled into the broken down and abandoned barn. They were trying to stay as silent as possible, but Fatty couldn't help but be clumsy and stomp around with loud steps. Fatty looked embarrassed, while Pat wanted to reassure him that he was no burden on them. The truth wouldn't help the situation.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Brand," Fatty said. He hadn't really gotten used to using ranks to address anything, and since both Pat and Will were only second lieutenants and far from the front, they didn't feel the need to correct him. "I'll be more quiet!"

"Shh," Will glared.

"Maybe we can use him as a diversion?" Schreiter winked at Pat, who tried to keep from smiling at the idea.

They had found Fatty half dead in an abandoned field, surrounded by the dead bodies of his comrades. At first he was delirious and confused, but he could walk, and so they felt like they had to take them with them. The cold of February bit at them, and both Pat and Will were looking forward to a life without having to escort soldiers around the battlefields.

"There!" Will whispered excitedly.

This wasn't a random trip to a barn, they had heard whinnying from the outside, and sure enough at the back of the barn two horses were huddled together. They were thin and looked sickly, but obviously were being cared for in some limited way. These horses belonged to someone, and soon someone would be back to find them.

With riffles held ready, Schreiter and Will kept watch at the barn door while Fatty and Pat saddled the horses. Fatty was positively giddy about finding the animals. He'd done nothing but complain for the past two days about how much pain he was in and how hard it was for him to walk. Pat was excited that he wouldn't have to hear Private Billings complain anymore.

"All right," Pat whispered, mounting the horse.

Fatty couldn't do it by himself, so Will shouldered his riffle and went to help while Pat silently trotted the horse out of the barn.

"The poor thing's half starved," Shcreiter said sadly, patting the beast's flanks.

"Just like us," Pat smiled.

"But you don't look it," Schreiter looked up at him, his dark eyes making  Pat feel uncomfortable.

Pat wished he could ask what the other man was thinking of, but he was afraid to know the answer.

The sound of a snapping twig alerted him. He looked into the black forest around them. Schreiter too was on alert, staring intently into his trees. In the barn, they could still make out the grunts of Will trying to help Fatty onto the horse.