Game Over [open]

[betty]

Time – 1927 hours
Location – Unknown

Captive.

The one word that pricked the corporal awake.

It had only been a day since the incident took place but already the miss known as the code guru had bare memory of it, almost blurry, as if images were forced together to recapture what had happened before.

Where am I? She questioned herself as her pale blue eyes roved across the room searching for any tid-bit she might used for her escape. Her sight was so frequent in the dim light that it did not take her long to become adjusted in the muted setting.

As her vision refigured itself shaping entities out of shadowed outline, the young woman realized that whoever brought her here must had little time to spare—the confinement was more of an office than a chamber fitted for a death sentence; but death she was sure was hiding near, for her captors were probably interrogating her traveling companions while she sat there vulnerable bound to a chair.

Vulnerable? She shook her head. How can I cross thought with this idea? It was bad enough they were now captured but to give up on hope? Betty bit her lips. No. Her comrades needed her.

To this, she had a means and with a slight nudge of her shoulder a knife slithered across her threadbare arm and found its way in a secured grip, prepared in its ease. It took only one, two, three nicks on the rope before her slender hands were free, and she rubbed her flaming wrists as a way to console herself this was not a dream. This was reality.

Escape was a must, not an option, and two gunshots one after the other singed their bitter cry to approve it.

She knew she had to go but her legs stubbornly refused…refused to accept how a single bullet had snuffed out a life so simply…a life that was once her friend. No matter how controlled she was she could no longer held back the tears she refused to rain on the funeral. The sound was all she had imagined the shot of her father’s death would be, and though she heard footsteps approaching Elizabeth did not care if where she stood met face to face to the door because hatred was her fuel, and death was her deliverer.

[ct]

Clarence woke up to an intense pain pulsating through his temple as if his memory was struggling to lash out on the blond-haired, blue-eyed officer sitting casually with a sinister smug curled on his lips. Nothing registered through his mind during their brief seconds staring, but it suddenly hit him. That face. Those eyes. The SS Lieutenant was no more than that bloody traitor Savitch.

“Ha. Funny seeing you here Sergeant. I wonder what brings me to your good grace, you TRAITOR!” Clarence lurched forward, all set to rip the well-tailored man to shred, only to find his knees buckled and wrists constricted to a chair. The aggressive soldier drew a breath of disgust and slumped his shoulders forward from the pull of his weights. Whatever the ex-Sergeant had to say he refused to listen. It was that man’s fault that half of his company was slaughtered, not to mention the remaining casualties the heartless bastard left in the winter’s cold. Plus if Savitch had his way, what would happen to the rest of his comrades? He was sure he was not the only one, is he?

Clarence tucked his head in and bore a gaze on the wooden floor. He did not know what his ex-sergeant wanted to do with him. He’s pretty much a nobody (for Pete’s sake, he’s a private!). But somehow Clarence could not help feel relief to find himself alive…that is until he heard the sound of a revolver click and the clunk thud of a bullet as it ripped through his boot and through the sole of the floor.

Pain shot up through his right foot, and he squirmed and jerked in the chair. Clarence did not want to give his ex-sergeant the pleasure of hearing his cry but the sting was too unbearable at that point that his lips trembled allowing a whimper to escape incoherent words stringed together. The soldier knew he should not provoke Savitch who had the upper hand but who in their right mind would not feel the bitter betrayal from a person they had come to trust their life on, their entire division on?

“Not so tough are you now?” Leonel Savitch gave a sarcastic laugh and stood a foot away of where Clarence sat, “It seems you have misunderstood me. I was offering you a chance of a lifetime. You’re the traitor for not appreciating what opportunity I will give you. Too bad I had taken out one of yo-”

Another shot rang in the air, and this time it came from the outside. Savitch gave a turn to see what was the commotion was about, and as his eyes looked away Clarence spun his weight and slammed backwards on the SS officer. Savitch lost control of his revolver as the attack came on as a surprise, and he landed head first towards the floor along with the heavy weight of Clarence on top of him. The two struggled to gain control of one another, but where Savitch groped his way towards the gun across the room, Clarence attempted to hold the deserter still while his hands shifted to free themselves. He managed to liberate his left arm and though two hands are better than one, the private needed to buy time which he had no way to do if he were to release the other one free. Clarence thought one hand was good enough and began to tightly form a wrap around the officer’s neck.

“Yor make…ing a miz ake. I prom..ah..ah..ise for a rak in Nazi…”

“Why? Why me, huh?” His fingers squeezed harder.

“Be..cuz…yur..always in truu…ble so yur in…offiz..r…oom…n..n”

“And what?”

“Yur nobody…….”

The struggle was over. Clarence did not know if he killed his ex-senior officer. The last word of what Savitch said really did him in, but he knew he had to let go now, searched for his comrades and escaped.

As he undid his bindings quickly and grabbed one of the Lee Thompsons of the corners, he found it strange there was no one to guard his door or any door for that matter. They probably ran after the second shot outside. He assured his unsteady nerve and began a door to door search for his friends. He found no one so far, though one room did catch his attention where he found an Allied-distributed cigarette lingered and still freshly lit, but he intruded no more on the matter because it was empty and moved on towards the last room down the hall. He hoped there was someone there, an Allied at least, so he would not felt foolish wasting his time for this hide-and-seek game.

[betty]

Elizabeth watched through teary eyes as the knob turned and a muscular figure with a hobbled walk entered the room. She ran towards him, knife in hand, with the intention of murder on the tip of its blade. It was only just five steps away before she realized the uniform was worn no other than an Allied soldier like herself, and the coder had to drop the knife before the knife pierced through him.

Tears streamed down her cheek as she embraced him happy to find something familiar even if it was a uniform. She was embarrassed to be seen this way but somehow she could not let go of him.

[ct]

Clarence was nearly taken aback with the footsteps that came running towards him. He saw the blade pointing its sharp edge on him yet it fell clattering on the wooden floor before he found himself, again surprised, hugged by a young woman. Who is she? A question wrinkle marred his face. Whoever she was he intended to stay where he’s at for awhile because as his coils churned and chugged, what’s the next chance he got?

But after few seconds passed, it became clear she had no intention of letting him go, and it was getting dangerous for them to stand there out in the open where any Axis could come any minute now so Clarence grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her slightly.

“Not that I’m complaining but we have to go. The best way is not down those stairs but through these windows here,” he crossed over the room to where the windows were and crossed his arms to stare outside. “The Axis appears to be absorbed with whatever commotion down there but I bet they would not notice us if we took a route behind those bushes and entered the street drainage hole near the lamp post there.”

“Do you trust me?” His eyes winced, not because he did not trust her but because his leg began to ache from the wound he acquired earlier with Savitch.

[Christopher J. D'Dario]

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~SeeJay