The Mind's Eye (29 page)
Authors: K.C. Finn
Tags: #young adult, #historical, #wwii, #historical romance, #ww2, #ya, #europe, #telepathic, #clean teen publishing, #kc finn
nerves had recovered I spent some time checking on Ieuan, only to
find that his tunnel had collapsed yet again and he was in a secret
meeting with some angry looking fellows who were trying to decide
on a new location to begin another dig. They were interrupted
briefly by some vicious looking guards who snooped around their
room, perhaps looking for signs of the dig. They built their
tunnels under the floorboards of course, and they never used their
uniforms whilst they were digging. All the dirt was hidden away on
their vests and other underclothes, to the untrained eye they were
just bored players that had been removed from the great game in the
outside world. To me, through Ieuan’s eyes, they were cunning
heroes waiting for their moment to strike.
Happy that I
could report Ieuan as safe and well to Blod and Idrys, my thoughts
wandered back to the other task at hand. I closed my eyes again,
searching desperately for Dad. It had been more than two years
since I had seen him, I wished I had taken better notice of how he
looked the night I saw him last. He had hair a darker shade of
brown than Leighton, cut in an elegant but very old fashioned sort
of wave. I remembered his dark moustache shaped like the whiskers
on a fox, how his brown eyes used to crinkle when Leigh and I tried
to make it stick up the wrong way towards his nose.
Black again,
but this time the body I was in was moving. I had no way to tell if
this was my father, but I hadn’t been wrong about my targets in a
long time. I waited excitedly, focusing on every feeling this man
was having. His arms were stretched out in front of him, moving
with strain against something ahead in the pitch darkness. He was
on his knees; they dug into hard, stony ground, aching like he’d
knelt on pins and needles for hours. His toes were numb inside
heavy boots, his head bowed down towards the ground beneath
him.
He blinked
something out of his eye, a vague shadow telling me he was wiping
his face. So his eyes were open, but wherever he was there wasn’t a
flicker of light to be found. I heard scraping sounds where his
hands were, sounds that I had learned to recognise lately. His
chest was starting to ache from his task, but he made no other
noise at all. There was just him, his silent breaths and the
scraping. He was alone. And he was digging.
***
No matter how
I tried the timing I could only find Dad asleep or in the tunnel. I
was beginning to wonder idly if he was sleeping in the tunnel
itself, but the thought of all those other passages that had
collapsed for Ieuan told me that he probably wasn’t. I was just
unlucky with my visits. It was possible that Dad was in a POW camp
too, but if that were true then I didn’t understand why Mum would
want to keep it such a big secret, or why Dad had left us so long
before the war actually broke out. There was something more to it
than what I knew so far, I supposed I’d just have to keep
trying.
Bickerstaff’s
face was slowly healing with each day that I saw him, but it looked
as though the blade that had cut into his cheek was going to leave
a permanent scar on his pale skin. He and Henri carried on their
duties as normal despite the shockwave running through the base
about the attack, until one day I found Henri patrolling in a
particularly nervy mood. He had his rifle on his back and he was
rubbing his palms down the sides of his trousers over and over
again, the skin of his hands turning raw. A bad sign, a very bad
sign indeed.
Tell me what’s the matter
, I
demanded.
“
I love you too,” Henri blurted a sharp whisper, “I’ve been
meaning to say it. I was waiting for a nice time, but I have to say
it now or I’ll burst.” His spine prickled with
electricity.
sake Henri, what’s going on?
“
They’re sending us out there, to that same place where Carter
got killed the other day.” I froze, waiting desperately for an
explanation. “About a dozen of us, we’re going to ambush them at
night.”
Do the others have to go too? Bickerstaff and Cooper?
I thought of the sheer horror of the injured men,
those who had just managed to escape, having to go straight back to
the scene where their ally had lost his life.
“
Cooper’s dead,” Henri said softly, “His injuries got
infected, they were too… Bickerstaff tried to help him, he really
tried.” He attempted to clear his throat, but I could feel how
difficult it was, the invisible blockage of grief and fear had made
it impossible to swallow. “But yes, Bickerstaff has to come with
us. He’s our medic, he has no choice.”
An ambush
, I mused,
Do you think I can help?
“
I don’t think you should,” Henri began, but then the tremble
in his heart grew larger, “but I need you there, Kit.
I-”
cracked and heat rose in his already sweating face. He kept his
back to the base, looking out through the fence at the seemingly
harmless sands. I wondered how many vicious killers were hiding
just over those distant dunes.
I’ll be there,
I promised,
I’ll help you no matter what. You know
that.
I couldn’t stand the feel of his
terrified body any longer, the way even his strong legs were
quaking in his hardy boots.
I can feel
your emotions, Henri,
I
confessed.
widened. “Can you always do that?” he breathed.
Yes.
“
Then you know, without me saying it,” he whispered, “You know
how bad this is going to be.”
I’ll help you to get away if you need to,
I swore,
I’ll help you to hide, to
survive this.
up his strength and forced himself to stop shaking, trying to be
stronger than he seemed. His heart betrayed him though as it went
on pounding away at his ribs. He shoved his hands deep into his
pockets to remove the temptation to rub his palms. I wanted to hold
him, to pull him in and never let go, but despite our mental
closeness I was just too far away. All I had were the words I could
whisper in his mind.
I love you so
much.
“
I love you too.”
was scheduled for two in the morning. I was there early, watching
Henri get kitted out with guns, grenades and all sorts of nasty
looking things that I didn’t want to investigate. I could tell by
his occasional smiles that he knew I was with him, though I didn’t
speak very often. He and Bickerstaff were the last ones left in the
barracks as they prepared themselves for the operation. I caught a
few glimpses of the doctor with his pink scar; his face was grave
and hollow. He looked like he hadn’t been eating or sleeping at
all.
“
Just get out if things turn sour,” Bickerstaff said in a low
murmur, “Don’t worry about helping anyone else. Run like hell, due
south brings you back here after about an hour.”
“
I wouldn’t leave any man behind,” Henri protested, “You
didn’t last time.”
“
And a fat lot of good it did,” Bickerstaff spat, “Cooper
would have been better dying where he fell. At least the Iti’s
would have made it quick.”
stomach give a lurch. His wicked temper was a hundred times worse
in the face of war.
“
It’s not about cowardice, Henri,” the doctor added, strapping
a case full of bullets into place, “It’s about what’s practical. If
you stop to help someone else, then two men die instead of one. You
can’t win a war like that.”
“
Don’t you mean ‘we’?” Henri pressed.
kept his blonde head down, refusing to answer.
He doesn’t think that he’ll live through this twice,
I thought. Henri nodded imperceptibly.
the doctor where he was lacing his boots and put a hand on his
shoulder. I could feel Bickerstaff shaking at the touch. Henri
leant down against his scarred face, trying to make him see that he
was smiling.
“
Remember your girls at home,” he whispered. Bickerstaff shut
his eyes tightly. “If there’s any way to get home to them, you have
to strive for it. I know that’s what I’m doing.”
froze in place stubbornly until Henri broke away, defeated. The
call came for the dozen selected men to form ranks and soon the
pack of Desert Rats were off, streaking silently out of the gates
and into the dark sands. They walked slowly and determinedly for
almost an hour, their guns held tightly and their eyes darting
everywhere at once for the signs of a threat. I could hear Henri’s
heartbeat, quick but steady as he went. He was trying to be brave,
trying not quake or tremble because he knew I would feel it if he
did, and I was content that his pride was also helping him not give
in to fear.
The marching
slowed suddenly as the boys got nearer to their target. I watched
with fascination as the leader of the pack had them all lie low in
the sand, shuffling on their hands and knees until they were lined
up on the crest of a large dune. Over the dune they peered down
into a deeper sand valley where two tents sat about three feet
apart. A single man was sitting between them, his head nodding up
and down as he dozed. Signals were given that I didn’t understand
but I felt Henri and the other slowly creeping onto their knees and
clutching their guns again. The objective was capture, not kill,
but Henri kept his finger on the trigger all the same as he snaked
down the side of the dune.
One dark
figure apprehended the sleeping guard first, knocking him out with
the back of his rifle with a swift thud. He fell to the ground
unconscious and the soldier began to restrain his hands behind his
back. The others made a circle each around the two small tents,
their guns trained on them from every angle. The captain of the
squad was right opposite Henri as he cleared his throat loudly and
kicked the tent before him.
“
Come out with your hands up,” he ordered into the night, “We
have you surrounded.”
happened. The captain poked his rifle deeper into the wall of the
tent, but I could see there was nothing inside it to hit. It seemed
strange that the Italians would leave a guard to watch over two
empty tents.
“
It is we that have you surrounded, Englishman.”
on the spot to a voice behind him. From the top of the dune a row
of black figures had appeared as if they had emerged from the night
sky itself. Their faces were smeared with black paint, their
uniforms abandoned for all black fatigues to make them look like
mere shadows on the sand. They were armed with much large guns than
Henri and the others, some of them had great tubular barrels
resting on their shoulders.
“
Drop your weapons.”
who had spoken before ordered with his shadowy mouth. His accent
was as thick as the dark beard all over his chin.
“
No,” said the captain from behind Henri.
out from one of the black figures. Henri didn’t look around, but I
heard a body crumple to the floor. He was frozen with fear, his gun
falling limply from his arms as his breath caught repeatedly in his
mouth like he couldn’t seize control of his lungs any more. The
other men dropped their weapons too. The black crowd descended from
the top of the dune to retrieve the guns, only to be replaced by
another wave of heavily armed men who looked down on them from
above. They were outnumbered at least two to one.
When Henri
was forced to turn by one of the Italians I saw the other villains
dragging the poor captain’s body away. Even in the dark night I saw
his glassy eyes, wide open and reflecting the tiny sliver of
moonlight behind the clouds. His corpse was hauled past my vision
slowly. I wanted to scream. Henri’s heart beat so fast it was
humming as a soldier grabbed him and twisted his arms behind his
back. I felt the sharp agony of the violent move as though it was
my own body being wrenched into a helpless submission.
I’m still here Henri,
I said in my
best calming tone,
They clearly don’t want
to kill you, so just don’t make them angry. It’s going to be all
right.
know that, of course, but Henri’s breathing came back to normal all
the same at my words. He watched tensely as the other men were
being jostled about, the Italians forcing them into a huddle in the
darkness where they could keep control of them all. I hoped that
this enemy was a civil one, that if Henri was to be taken by them
he might just end up locked away like Ieuan. It wasn’t a great
prospect, but it was a good deal better than death.
