Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Lucille
Lucille's breath was lodged in her throat. She couldn't get it out. Her voice escaped as a croak.
"No. No. No." She muttered. The two boys hadn't woken yet, or at least the one in the back seat hadn't. The man in the boot could be confused and frightened for all she knew.
Lucille had forgotten about the security check that was only two miles from her home. There was always two German soldiers stationed at it, both day at night. They held their guns as if every person would suddenly attack, and spoke harshly, spitting being a regular occurrence.
She could remember the first time that she had been made to use it. It was when the town had first become occupied, before the camps and chaos. Her father needed medicine quickly after taking a turn. She hadn't brought her papers. Their reactions were not dissimilar to theirs now.
As she drove, she began to slow. While beginning to stop the car, she reached behind her, shifting the man in the back so he now laid in the floor, her own coat resting in top of his broad back.
"Papers." The soldier had shouted his command before the car had stopped and he had left his makeshift hut.
She stopped the car, her hands trembling timidly. Glancing to the gun beside her, she reached toward it, dropping it slyly into her pocket.
"I said, papers." The man shouted again, his bony hands gripping into his gun.
"I'm afraid I don't have my papers." She stuttered, her own hand enclosing around the gun once again.
"Get out of the car." He growled, as he threw the car door open. "I won't say again."
"Yes. I'm sorry. Yes." She mumbled, keeping her head down. The less they suspected, the less they would look, surely.
But she was wrong. The soldier lead her to the back of her car, digging the barrel of his gun into her lower back. He pushed her forward, glaring suspiciously as he caught the flinch of her right hand in her pocket.
"Open it." He ordered, motioning her forward with his gun. He shouted again, "Open it!"
Lucille did as he said, opening the boot door outward slowly. She prepared herself, but what she was expecting never came.
The blond man in her boot had woken up and had already found the gun that she had slipped into the corner. The gun was already raised by the time she had completely opened the door, and was shot by the time she had dropped her hand.
The second soldier, upon hearing the shot, raced from his hut. His gun was slung across his back, not yet raised. Lucille lifted her own gun, wasting no time in pulling the trigger, forcing her eyes closed equally as hard.
She screamed at the sound of her own gun and a body hitting the floor. Her hands and body shook violently, her eyes opening to see the body of the soldier, laying dead in front of her. Lucille panicked, shutting the door of the boot closed with a slam before hurrying to the front of the car. She could hear his screams and shouts, as the man weakly pounded against the inside of the car. Hastily, she drove away, swerving her way across the road, before regaining control, speeding the rest of the way.
Lucille choked out a sob. She was acting hysterically, frightened tears streaming down her puffy cheeks. The man in the back of her car began to grumble in his sleep, turning over, as if woken from death. She whipped a hand over her mouth, muffling the sobs that escaped her lips.
