My Immortal The Vampires of Berlin (9 page)

When Wolf was out of sight, Sebastian discretely put the crucifix into his backpack.
Water and ammo might be the only currency right now,
he reasoned
, but that will change when the war ends
.

With his treasure safely in place, Sebastian followed Wolf down into the crypts. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and opened a small gold locket. He looked deeply into the eyes of Anna and little Sophie. It was the only photo of them that he still had. Sebastian reflected on how happy life had been in Dresden before the war and wondered how many others had lost everything.

Meanwhile, Wolf searched for the entrance to the tunnels. He didn’t find it, but the dehydrated soldier found the second best thing in a corner crowded with boxes, books and trash. He pried the lid from a barrel, splashed the water on his face and drank greedily from cupped hands. When he couldn’t drink any more, Wolf took his helmet off and dunked his head in. The water was cold, but for someone who hadn’t regularly slept or bathed for the better part of two weeks, the shock to his system was appreciated.

“Do you plan to swim out of Berlin, Major?” Sebastian asked.

Wolf pulled his head out of the water and shook like a dog. Water flew everywhere.

Sebastian’s laughing fit ended abruptly when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped into the air and his rifle went off, sending a bullet exploding into the ceiling and plaster falling down around him. Wolf dove to the floor, desperately scanning the room for the source of the threat.

In front of them stood a young woman, about seventeen or eighteen. She was beautiful. Her high cheekbones and straight burgundy hair gave her a distinctive Eastern European look. Her face gave away no secrets; her distant stare made it seem as if nothing else in the universe existed. Her clothing was minimal; she wore a white ankle-length nightgown and was barefoot, despite the fact that much of the ground in Berlin was covered with broken glass and other dangers. Somehow, her feet were uninjured.

The soldiers remained still, their weapons pointed at their unannounced guest. “
They are coming for me
,” she whispered. She was clearly afraid of something.

“They are coming for all of us,
fräulein
,” Sebastian replied, lowering his rifle. The thought of another young woman caught up in the war saddened him. He wondered if she was shell-shocked, a common condition among the civilians who remained in Berlin. “What is your name?” he asked.

“Eeee-va.” The girl spoke slowly and deliberately, as if each syllable was a struggle to get out.

“That’s a nice name. What are you doing here, Eva?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Wolf said. “We’re not bringing her with us.”

Sebastian immediately jumped into the debate. “Look at her, Major. She’s out of it. You may be in no mood to collect refugees, but this poor girl can’t look out for herself right now. We must do the honorable thing and bring her to safety.”

“Safety? What are you talking about? There is no
safety
in Berlin right now. You would find better
safety
roaming around a tiger cage with a ham sandwich tied to your fucking leg. And another thing, when did this war become about honor?”

“The night Dresden got hit.”

Narrator: Black knight eliminates white pawn, bishop and rook. All at once. Checkmate.

Wolf sighed loudly. Dresden was where all discussions about the morality of the war began and ended with Sebastian. After he uttered that word, there was nothing else to discuss. The incineration of his home and family by Allied bombers was a terrible wound that would never heal with the young soldier.

As they contemplated their next move, Eva pointed at the bookcase. A leather-bound book shook briefly and then fell to the floor.

The men stared at the book in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Neither one knew what to make of a flying book, but they had seen many strange and inexplicable things in the war. As long as it wasn’t shooting at them, they felt more or less safe.

Finally, Sebastian picked it up. It was a church songbook, nothing unusual. “Maybe it contains a code,” he said, as he curiously flipped through the pages.

“When you get out of the army, don’t apply to be a detective. You’re extremely dumb,” Wolf replied.

Sebastian looked up and smiled. Eva had her arm fully extended, pointing at the bookcase. Subtle, she was not. He dropped the book, grabbed the top of the bookcase and pulled it towards him. He jumped back as the weight shifted and it slammed to the floor.

As it turned out, there was a wooden door behind the bookcase. When he opened it, the men gasped—stairs disappeared down into the darkness!

Sebastian looked at Eva in wide-eyed amazement. “You’re an angel,” he said. “Our guardian angel.”

16

Two hundred meters from Berlin Cathedral, the remnants of a squad of SS troopers occupied the Hotel Neptune, a small two-story structure just off the
Unter den Linden
. The bizarre aquatic theme of the second story room that they had called home for two days clashed with their dirty black uniforms and the military music that played incessantly in the background.

Varik peered through binoculars as artillery rumbled in the distance. Next to him sat one of the Nazi’s newest instruments of death, an MG-42 machine gun. The weapon’s incredible 1,200 rounds-per-minute firing rate made it the fastest machine gun of the war; it sounded like a buzz saw when it was fired. Varik had used the weapon to mow down an entire Russian patrol yesterday. Despite that momentary victory, with limited ammunition and no reinforcements, he knew that the next time he fired the weapon would probably be his last.

As Varik kept watch from his perch, Otto the Jackal and Pig Face sat on the couch and drank the night away. The two soldiers had been to hell and back over the course of the war and had become best friends after surviving two days of desperate hand-to-hand fighting in a Lithuanian swamp. They were tired, but not so tired that they couldn’t pass the cognac around. Technically speaking, they were piss drunk and trying to forget that it could be their last night on Earth.

Pig Face stood up and stared at his grotesque pockmarked face in a huge gold-framed mirror. “I’m sick of this weird place. We need to get out of here,” he said. “We can’t hold them off forever.”

“Relax, asshole. Fritz will be back soon,” Otto replied, patting his huge belly. “We still have some time.”

Suddenly, the music stopped. The men grew quiet as the voice of Joseph Goebbels came on the radio.

“
At the moment of the war when all forces of hate and destruction gather to give what they mistakenly believe will be the death blow to the German Reich, I speak to Joseph Stalin and the Soviet Red Army. The Führer demands the immediate withdrawal of Soviet forces from German soil. If you do not comply, a secret weapon more powerful than the sun itself will be unleashed upon the Soviet Red Army. If the Tristan weapon is utilized, there will be no survivors. This is your final warning.”

Otto laughed. “When the
Führer
unleashes his secret weapon, the Russians won’t know what hit them. We’ll stack their bodies like cordwood.” He had been a proud member of the Nazi party since 1937 and he never stopped believing in Germany’s eventual victory in the war, regardless of how desperate the situation appeared.

“The Americans will soon turn their guns on the communists,” Pig Face added. He believed the rumors that had swept through Berlin in the final weeks of the war; that General Patton was secretly planning to help Germany fight the Soviet Union.

Varik had listened to the men’s indoctrinated ramblings for months, but he finally had enough. Believing in the Fatherland was one thing, but Otto and Pig Face wouldn’t face reality if it hit them in the head. The war was over. Ka-fucking-put. The Nazi generals were jumping off the ship like rats and it was every rat for himself.

“If the
Führer
had a secret weapon, he would have used it before our capital got turned into a burned out cesspool,” Varik said. “Now, we’re defending the rubble with old men and little kids. It’s over. Turn that shit off.”

Otto turned the radio off and took another mouthful of cognac. His commanding officer lacked fighting spirit, but his defeatist attitude would change when the
Führer
unleashed his Tristan weapon on the Russians.

You’ll see,
he thought.
You’ll see.

17

Wolf was on point. He pressed forward through the darkness and shined the flashlight on the strange blood red markings that covered the walls. The tunnel had obviously been there for a long time; it wasn’t just a simple passageway created to help people escape the air raids.

When the tunnel split, he stopped. He wasn’t sure which way to go, but they had to choose carefully—they could pay for a mistake with their lives.

“Should we toss a coin?” Sebastian asked.

“No.” Wolf pulled out a compass. “We’re going west, away from the Russians. If we head east, we’re as good as dead. Follow me.”

When Sebastian took Eva’s hand, she screamed and pulled him backwards.

Wolf spun around. “Let her go, soldier—that’s an order! We’ll be lucky enough to survive this night without dragging around a refugee who is having some sort of psychotic episode.”

Order or not, Sebastian wasn’t inclined to give up on someone who just saved him from certain death. He pulled her close and whispered into her ear.
“You helped me. Now I want to help you. But you need to come with us. Do you understand?”

Eva just stared at him. No reaction at all.

Sebastian didn’t give up. “Listen to me. The Red Army did not come to Berlin to play games. They will kill you. Or worse.” He took her hand again, but Eva planted her feet into the ground like a stubborn mule.

A muffled explosion rang out above. The walls shook and dirt fell from the ceiling. “We’re out of time,” Wolf shouted. “Come on—we have to get out of here. Let’s go!”

Sebastian shouldered his rifle. He didn’t know what put her into such a catatonic and belligerent state, but he wasn’t going to leave her there. He grabbed Eva and threw her over his shoulder. She struggled briefly and then went limp.