One Woman War | Inglourious Basterds/Original Story

Chapter 6

The German shouting echoing through the night served as an incentive to run faster, and with my bag bouncing off my back with every step I took, I bolted behind the buildings and began making my way back towards the bush behind the shop where I had left my rifle. 

I was panting hard in no time but I was sure that even if I had wanted to stop, I couldn't. My body was in full on fight or flight mode and I was currently deep in flight so I could get to the object that would allow me to fight. Even when I had my hands on the gun I wasn't sure how much damage I would be able to do seeing as it had been a while since I fired a weapon, but having it would put my mind at ease at least.

"You can't run!" one of the two soldiers from behind me called as the third one sprinted along the street in front of the buildings, his boots slapping hard against the cement and his eyes glaring at me every time as we passed by the spaces in between the buildings.

I wasn't sure what I was going to do once I had my hands on my gun, but I was just praying I wasn't going to have to shoot my way out of the situation. 

When I approached the back of the salon/barber shop, I shoved my hand into the bush and felt a wave of relief wash over my body as my hand tightened around the rifle waiting for me. Yanking it out of the shrubbery hard, pulling a few twigs and leaves with it along the way, I lifted the weapon into my arms and pulled the handle on the side to cock it. 

The mechanical sound alerted the soldiers and they began to slow as they too pulled out their weapons. I could hear the one German on the street yelling, but my focus was mainly on the two in front of me who were slowly inching closer, their fingers on the triggers. 

A few pleas entered my head, but I knew there was no way to reason with these men. They believed with every fiber of their being that I was a flea on the back of society that needed to be exterminated, and nothing I could say to them would change their minds. 

My best bet at that point would be to make it out of the town and back into the cover of the woods where I could hopefully lose the soldiers as I had done once before. 

Deciding that it was now or never, I turned around again and ran back around to the front of the building where the third soldier was waiting. As I dashed around the corner, I collided with him hard and sent him stumbling back a few steps. With an angry growl, he reached out and grabbed onto my arm with one hand while the other went for the knife on his belt. 

I tried to pull away, but when my lackluster strength couldn't get the job done, I gripped the rifle hard and smacked the butt of it against his temple. The man hissed in pain as he let go of me, and as his hands went to the newly formed bump on his head and the other two caught up, I sprinted across the street.

A few gunshots were heard behind me, followed by the sounds of the bullets hitting the cement by my feet and whizzing by my head. The commotion caused a few of the remaining store owners and customers to step outside, but the German soldiers quickly yelled at them, probably telling them to go back inside. 

Once on the other side of the road, I made a sharp right turn behind the buildings and headed down in the direction of the pharmacy where the soldiers had first appeared from. I felt my palms start to sweat and the rifle slip in my hands a little, but before I knew it I had made it to one of the side roads that lead down to a few of the small houses located within the town.

Back on dirt again, my pace suffered slightly as the loose sand and dirt shifted beneath my feet, but I keep running. I kept running when the gunshots rang out again, I kept running when the Germans shouted at me, and I kept running when the residents opened their doors or windows to see what was going on.

When I made it to the final house at the end of the road, a small red one with a teenage boy in the window, I hopped the fence into the backyard and kept going until I made it to the field out back. The grass was tall, almost as tall as my waist, but I didn't let it slow me down. Looking back for a moment to see if I was still being chased, I watched as the first of the men hopped the fence as well, his eyes never leaving me for a second.

With the gun now hanging over my torso, I used my hands to push the grass out of the way, feeling as a blade here or there sliced through a thin layer of the skin on my hands. In the distance, I could see the treeline again and knew that if I had any chance of escape, it would be in there. 

"Little Jew rat!" one of the soldiers cackled as he and the other two began to push their way through the grass as well. "No one can save you out here!"

With one final push with everything I had left, I disappeared into the trees and quickly made another sharp turn to hopefully throw my pursuers off. The voices were getting quieter and quieter, but as I struggled to make my way through the dark terrain, I realized that the sun was completely gone. 

As I came upon what looked like a small clearing that branched off into a plethora of different paths, I skidded to a stop, my eyes darting from one path to another, trying to figure out which way to go. That's when I heard a sharp sound; one that was too crisp and man-made to belong to the nature of the woods. The sound was familiar, and I knew it well. 

With my bottom lip beginning to quiver, I slowly raised my hands up in surrender and turned around, expecting to come face to face with one of the German soldiers with his gun in my face. 

When I looked up to see my fate, I was indeed met with the barrel of a gun, but the man behind the gun was no soldier. Wearing blue jean overalls and an off-white shirt, an older man with a gray beard and thinning hair stood in the shadows. 

I was quiet at first, expecting him to say something or shoot me right then and there; but when nothing came from his mouth, I decided to speak. "P-please..." I stammered, my hands still up as the German soldiers' shouting come into range again. 

Lowering his gun slightly, the older man's head turned toward the direction of the yelling and he listened for a brief second before looking back at me. "Come with me," he said before turning around and taking off down the path which he had come from. 

The words pretty much went in one ear and out the other. "What?" I asked, my voice at a low whisper. 

"Do you want to die or not?" the man said, his back still to me as he kept marching off. "Come with me."

Deciding that I had nothing more to lose at that point, I followed the man down the path and kept silent. Chills ran up my spine every time I heard one of the soldiers bark something at the others in the distance, but the man didn't seem the least bit phased. 

At some point, he veered off of the clear path and started to hike through the foliage. There was a slight clearing where a few of the branches had been cut away, but it wasn't noticeable from the main path. I followed the man deeper and deeper into the darkness, and just when I was about to speak up to ask where we were going, he reached forward and pushed the leaves a few rather large bushes aside, revealing a small log cabin. 

"You will be safe here." the man finally spoke again, his face softer now and his eyes brighter. It was probably because he wasn't pointing a gun at me any longer, but he seemed to have changed from the gruff old man that I had first met back on the path.

"Thank you." I breathed out, continuing to follow him as he pushed open the front door and gestured for me to go inside. 

I had no idea what was happening or who this strange, kind man was, but there was a feeling inside of me—a small warmth in my stomach—that said I was going to be okay.