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Authors: Richard Rhys Jones

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BOOK: The Division of the Damned
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He huffed at the Cyrillic figures on the envelopes addressed to the Ukrainians and contemplated how long it would take to teach these barbarians proper German lettering.

"Here
,
you.”
He handed the bundle to one of the guards and sat in the cab of the lorry to read the message from Berlin.

The communiqué was dated June 12, 1944. Rasch read the heading and then reread it. He couldn’t believe his eyes and looked to see if it was so
mehow a hoax. "This cannot be

" was all he managed to gasp. The Ukrainian driver looked over to him and asked in heavily accented German if he was alright. Rasch could only shake his head, stunned into gaping silence as he read it for a third time.

The letter was headed, "Top Secret. For the eyes of…" and there followed a long list of SS and Wehrmacht dignitaries who were privy to the secret plotting within the Third Reich.

Rasch read it for a fourth time and understood that the end was nigh.

 

 

Chapter 35

 

Ukraine

 

July

 

It was early evening and Von Struck was reading a rare communiqué from Berlin. It was a plan for them to leav
e the region and return to the c
astle. The summons back to Transylvania could not have come at a better time. Their area of operations was becoming saturated with Russian soldiers and they no longer left the vampires alone during the day.

Von Struck read the instructions through and called Henning over. "What do you make of this?”

Henning read the brief. "It’s about time too. It’s getting far too risky here. To be honest, I was hoping we’d be pulled out soon. The only problem is Rohleder and where he is.”

Von Struck nodded absently. "Why do you think they’re pulling us back now, though?”

"Well I would have thought it’s because it’s getting too dangerous, but now you mention it, since when did the High Command ever worry about danger to their men?”

"Exactly my point.
Something has happened and we’re either losing the war far worse than we thought or they’ve got a different mission for us. Personally I hope it’s the new mission option.”

"Yeah, me too.
Here comes Arak.”

The vampire strolled up to them. "We must all go back. I am no longer under your command. We’ll be going back tonight.”

"That seems settled, then," Muschinski piped in almost happily. "Back to the world and hopefully back to Berlin for some well-earned leave.
Berlin in summer

beautiful.”

Henning laughed at Muschi’s optimism but Von Struck turned back to Arak
.
"You are still under my command, though, Arak, up until we get back to the
c
astle and then you can do what you please.”

The vampire sneered at Von Struck and turned away.

"Hey, Arak, did you hear what I said to you?”

Arak turned. His deep voice rumbled through the dusk, "Human, you have no command. Get back to the
c
astle, they are waiting for you. I take my men tonight. You have nothing more to say to us." Then he turned and disappeared into the half-light.

"Damn, we have lost the war, then," Henning muttered.

"I can’t believe that. We haven’t had any contact with the outside world, I know, but I can’t believe we’ve lost the war, not yet anyway. If only we had a radio that could get BBC, then we’d know what’s going
on.”

"Steady,
b
oss. That’s treason
,
listening to the BBC.” Muschinski wasn’t smiling anymore.

"Well at least we’d know what’s really going on and not the condensed bullshit Berlin keeps spouting out.”

"I’ll give the men the good news. What time are we moving out?”

"We’ll go after Arak has gone. Hopefully we’ll meet Rohleder on the way back," Von Struck decided. "I told him to keep to the main route west so it should be alright. If we don’t see him, we’ll just report him as Missing in Action." Henning nodded and walked off to talk to Gruhn and Nau.

Arak and his troops left with no fuss and no farewells. One minute Von Struck heard them padding off into the wood and the next they were gone.

"Right, men,” Von Struck addressed his squad before they set off
. “W
e haven’t got any pressure to get back but let’s not let our standard of
march
discipline slip. We’re still in enemy territory and the last thing we need is losses on the way home. We’ve made it this far. Let’s all get back so we can get drunk in Berlin.”

They shared the joke but nobody was under any false impressions about the seriousness of the situation. The pressure of living in the enemy’s backyard was only tolerable through the rigid following of drills and training. There was no way any one of them would risk getting killed now after six months behind enemy lines.

Although they stuck to a straight route, they hardly encountered any Russians. They rode hard and on the night of the third day slept in an old barn. It belonged to an old Ukrainian farmer whose son was in the 14th Waffen SS Galicia Division, a division made up mainly of Ukrainian volunteers. He had a secret cellar under the barn and for the first time in months they all felt out of harm's way.

Grand produced a bottle of brandy and Muschi, in Rohleder’s’ absence, provided the anecdotes. It was the last time they would spend a night under a roof together in freedom for a long time.

On the fifth day they found Rohleder. His horse hidden and camouflaged, he was waiting for them at the side of the road in the undergrowth.

Von Struck’s initial pleasure turned to consternation as he saw the look on his face. They trotted up to him, dismounted and gathered around. The air of tragic anger he radiated sp
oilt the moment. It was Henning
who broke the brief silence. "What happened?”

Rohleder looked around at his comrades, gathering his resolve under their pitying gaze. Everybody knew that something had happened to the kid and his mother but they waited for his confirmation. He started to speak but stopped and swiftly looked away to blink the tears out of
his eyes. Then he told them.

They were going too slow for Rohleder’s liking. Stephanie was tough but the months of hardship had sapped any stamina she once may have had and she was tiring easily and slowing them down. She refused point blank to ride the horse, insisting that Paul stay in the saddle. Rohleder held his peace but the delayed progress irked him.

On the third of June Stephanie turned sick. They set up camp in a cave and waited until she felt strong enough to move. Rohleder set snares for rabbits and they ate well enough and stayed warm. A week later Stephanie and Paul’s old travelling companions caught up with them. The reunion was brief and practical. Only the children seemed happy to see each other.

"We can’t wait for you,” the old man stated. “We’ve got to move on.”

"That’s fine." Rohleder didn’t want them to stay anyway because the bigger the crowd, the more the chance of being seen by Ivan.

"Have you got any medicine for Stephi, though? Her cough is turning bad.”

"We have nothing to spare but I might be tempted to trade some things for your horse.”

"Like what
things?" Rohleder tried his best to sound amenable.

"We have a bit of medicine left over, for emergencies you understand, but not much. I could give you some more blankets and you could set up a nice home for yourself here. You all look cosy enough and that’s what you want, isn’t it, to make a home for yourself? It’s very private here, out of the way and out of the eyes of people
who might not understand what a


He never finished what he wanted to say.

Rohleder’s rage turned everything black and the only thing he remembered was Paul pulling him off the old man’s limp body.  He stood above him, panting from his exertions, and with a voice uneven from adrenaline he said, "Old man, give me what you have in the way of medicine and then go." He turned to the rest of th
e group.
"You can stay with us if you want to, but as soon as Stephi is fit, we’re on our way. Now where’s the medicine?”

It turned out that they had a lot of medicine, a lot of blankets and a lot of food.
Horst, the old man, had pleaded poverty to the soldiers but had secretly horded all their supplies for himself.
He had rationed out their provisions with an iron fist, keeping the lion’s share for himself, leaving the leftovers for the women and children. Rohleder was surprised to find that even the old man’s wife wanted to stay.

They had money enough for the journey and now, with their new protector to lead the way, the women found a new desire to live. Only Stephanie seemed to get worse. The medicine was too little too late. They agreed to wait until she grew better but the cave was crowded and
the threat of discovery bore down heavily on them all.

Horst had not left them to travel on his own but kept to himself at the back of the grotto, coming out only to eat and when it was his turn to fetch water. Otherwise they got on well with each other and the women’s acceptance of Rohleder encouraged his self-esteem and improved his confidence in the company of strangers. Suddenly he no longer dreaded going back to a life in civilisation. The idea of the curious stares and the whispered suspicion of his scars held no more fear for him. He realised he was looking forward to life after the war, regardless of what might come or who might win.

The days passed by and the weather improved. Life in the cave was almost pleasant. Stephanie’s fever swelled dangerously and broke. Two days later, a visibly improved Stephanie announced to the cave that she felt strong enough to move on. The relief was evident in all and a party atmosphere broke out among the inhabitants.

The women set to preparing food for the journey ahead and even Horst helped with the preparations. He knew that if the Red Army caught them, there would be no hope of salvaging what was left of his possessions. Horst had plans and those plans involved the goods he’d horded over the past months and the black market.

Rohleder had long ago given up wearing his SS tunic and wore cast-offs from one of the dead husbands of the women. He knew that if Ivan caught them, their chances would be slim, but if they were caught with him in uniform, their chances would be non-existent.

The plan was to drive along the main road westwards. If they were stopped, Rohleder would act the part of a shell-shocked invalid and the women and Horst would try to bluff their way through. Rohleder’s scars led weight to their story and their confidence in their alibi seemed to hinge solely on this fact.

The night before departure they all went to bed early. Rohleder was not as confident of their chances as the women were and he lay alone in the pitch darkness, worrying at the matter. His thoughts were interrupted by Stephanie as she cuddled up to him under the blanket. She had often held him in the night but this time he felt a charge in the air. Rohleder recognised the mood and hardly dared to hope it was what he thought it was.

Her hand moved slowly to his face and she traced the indentations of his scars lightly with her fingers. She kissed the rough skin on his neck and he moved position to accommodate her better. He hesitated and bent his head down to kiss her lips, dreading the rejection he knew would come but helpless against the force of his want. She kissed him back and the dormant passion that had simmered under the practicalities of their survival threatened to storm them both where they lay. She broke off and let her
hand slide down onto his chest.
"I wanted
to thank you for what you’ve done for us, but don’t think this is gratitude. I want this because I want you.”

He opened his mouth to say something but she shushed him by putting a finger on his lips. "… and I want you because I need a good man, and that’s what you are
,
Michael
. Y
ou are a good man.”

Rohleder had never heard any woman talk like that before, especially not the no-nonsense woman now sharing his bed, and his initial shock evolved quickly into
pleasure. He smiled down at her.
"Let’s go outside.”

They silently gathered a blanket and left the cave to wander out into the balmy summer night. Despite the warmth, he felt a shiver of anticipation run up his spine and she caught it and chuckled. "What’s wrong?  Scared of the dark?" she teased.

"Scared of wicked women more like."
He liked her laugh, he decided. She should do it more often.

She took his hand in hers, whispe
ring,
"I know where we can go

over by the river.”

"But that’s miles away."

"Come on, it’ll be nice." She laughed like a child, carefree and excited, and he willingly followed her into the moonlit undergrowth.

He woke up to the dawn chorus with his own song in his heart. It was late, he realised, and he wondered why nobody had come looking for them. He sat up and looked around
.
Stephanie was still sleeping. She looked so young and composed in sleep and he felt a tenderness towards her that bulged in his chest.

BOOK: The Division of the Damned
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