This story must be given an ADULT CONTENT warning. No, there's nothing graphic, but there are adult themes, and there were going to be more adult themes before it was put on hiatus.
This was meant to be from The Trench Rats and concerned the unusual relationship that forms between the characters Reseda and Silver. I'm guessing I give a more thorough explanation in the original author's note which follows. This story is a bit spoilery for that series, which isn't so bad seeing as it's currently on hiatus too.
This file was last modified in 2001, which sounds about right. And also means this is likely outdated, though I've just browsed through it and it seems to be much better written than the existing chapters of the serial itself; I don't even see anything that needs major correcting. Weird. A note, "CO" stands for commanding officer, of which Silver is said to be one, even though he's just a lance-corporal; things are run oddly in the Trench Rats. You can see, toward the end, how I decided to skip around a bit as the story was running longish and I was getting bored. And the flu references? One of the main parts of the story's plot concerns a Nazi attempt to resurrect the hideous Spanish flu. I'd read about that and...yugh. Nasty stuff. I've made some necessary edits to the intro, but not to the story itself.
OBLIGATORY AUTHOR'S NOTE
The following story is a series of scenes from a mostly unwritten "serial" of mine, The Trench Rats. As the rest of the story has not been written, these scenes may end up greatly changed should I finish the serial. I have not had time to work on it, being busy with other projects, so I decided to condense some of the future scenes into this story. The Trench Rats itself is intended to follow several different storylines, this being only one, and the one in which I have the most interest, due to the possibilities for character development.
Here is the necessary background info:
The Trench Rats is a FURRY story, the primary characters being anthropomorphic rats who ride atop birds and dogs while fighting canine Nazis in a very strange alternate reality WWII. It's their job to free prisoners of the Nazi forces and to provide medical attention to the wounded. They are an elite battalion and the only Americans fighting in the war at this moment (around 1941-2, I believe). If all of that didn't turn you off, please continue. :)
This story follows the Reseda/Silver plotline of the serial. PFC Reseda Rat serves in Lance-Corporal Silver Rat's Echo Company. Silver is the elitest of the elite, and the Trench Rat most wanted by the Nazis; due to his habit of sneaking up and snapping their necks without notice, they have dubbed him the Silbergeist (Silver Ghost). He's very practical, solitary, and stubborn, and loathes laziness or ineptitude. Reseda, on the other hand, is often distracted or even negligent. Silver has saved his life so far on at least two occasions--and chewed Reseda out thoroughly both times. (The shout Reseda loathes hearing the most: "PRIVATE!") He doesn't neglect his duties on purpose, and in fact is a good marksman; he just can't keep his focus. He's constantly berating himself, and constantly grinding his teeth and putting up with--while resenting--Silver's criticism.
Recently, due to Reseda's negligence, Silver had to fill in for him during an important mission, and ended up taking on a pack of Nazis alone. He was captured and taken prisoner, where he was beaten and tortured, and then raped by one of their number. He managed an escape, along with some other prisoners of the Nazis, and made his way back to the Trench Rats, where he was treated and has now reassumed command of his company. Reseda is feeling like dirt because of his part in the incident (of which the others, Silver included, are unaware), while Silver's other men are beginning to question his ability to lead the company...and this is around where the story begins...
"I DESERVE A night on the town, I deserve a night on the town..."
Reseda sat in cold muddy water up to his ankles and though the droning voice managed to make its way into his brain, he somehow tuned it out. He hated when the Rats mixed companies. As if Citrine from Blue's company wasn't bad enough, now they had gotten mixed in with both Delta and Bravo. As such they were scattered around through the trenches, not really sure where everybody else was. He wasn't even certain who was talking.
From beside him, a weak voice. "I feel sick."
He glanced down at Amaranth. The young Rat leaned back against the trench wall with a miserable look on his face. He seemed ready to melt into the ground.
"Don't tell me you have it now, too. You're a medic. You're not supposed to get sick."
"But I feel sick."
"Maybe it's in your head?"
Amaranth swallowed convulsively and then covered his mouth and moaned. He slumped to the ground.
Reseda sighed and turned away, rubbing his eyes. He had no idea how many of them had been laid up due to the flu, but it had seemed to be getting worse each day for quite a while--only now did they seem to be reaching the tail end. And since when did people die from it? He'd been told already about what had happened back in the Great War, but he hadn't even been born then. Why would it happen again?
"I think I'm gonna diiieeeeee..."
"You're not going to die, Amaranth. Your glands aren't even swollen."
From somewhere up above: "I deserve a night on the town!"
"For God's sake," somebody else muttered. "Is every freakin' body [sic] delirious today or what?"
The rain certainly didn't help matters. Reseda hunched his shoulders and scowled. The air was thick and humid and he felt as if he was going to get trench foot, trench mouth, trench everything before the day was over.
Anything's better than the flu, I guess!
He rubbed his eyes again and wondered why he hadn't gotten infected yet. Go figure, that everybody else would and he wouldn't. Just his luck.
He leaned back against the earth himself and pushed his helmet over his eyes. The temperature had dropped and he shivered. Maybe if he tried hard enough he could catch it. If Amaranth really had it, all he had to do was get the guy to cough on him or something. That couldn't be too hard.
"...just too much. I don't think it's a good idea anymore."
He scowled to himself as somebody else started up a conversation not too far away. This was not talking weather. Didn't everybody know that? Probably somebody from the HQ company, who didn't spend so much time out in the trenches as the rest of them did. He tried to tune them out as well, but it didn't seem to want to work now.
"Maybe they should've kept him on the ward a little longer, you think?"
"A 'little' longer hell. I don't see why he's even back. Why don't they pick somebody else?"
Reseda frowned, the helmet still covering his eyes so he would appear asleep to anybody else. The "de-tuning" part of his brain shut off and instead he focused on what he heard, now suddenly interested. He didn't normally eavesdrop, but something about this conversation seemed different.
From the sound of it, at least three people were talking. He recognized the voices as belonging to Echo Company, his own, but he didn't know any of them personally. Out of his entire company Amaranth and Silver were the only ones he really knew. He hadn't exactly been making himself any friends since he'd joined up.
"It's not like we can just push him aside and find a replacement. He's the only one who can do half the things he does."
"That's if he still can. Have you seen him? He's a mess."
"I thought he was holding up pretty well..."
"Shows how much you pay attention around here..."
He pushed his helmet up a bit and cocked one ear. Beside him, Amaranth let out a low moan.
"He screwed up yesterday," the first voice said. "You weren't looking, so you didn't see it. It was just a little thing. But he let down his guard, just for a minute. Anybody could've taken him out right then."
"That happens to all of us!"
"It never used to happen to him. Like I said--he doesn't have it anymore. If this keeps up, he'll probably get us all killed."
"It's not like he planned any of this to happen," the third voice protested, and Reseda head a loud hush.
"Of COURSE he didn't plan it, but does that excuse anything? He's a liability now! We should just get rid of him, put somebody else in his place."
"Yeah," from the second voice. "And how do you propose to do that? Think it would look a little suspicious if he were shot with your gun."
Reseda sat up now, abruptly. Amaranth, catching the motion, stopped moaning and glanced up at him.
"I never said we'd do that. For God's sake, get your head out of your ass. I'm just saying that until something's done, Echo's in trouble. We should talk to the sergeant..."
Now Amaranth sat up as Reseda pushed himself to his feet and scrabbled up the opposite wall. "Reseda?" he whispered, loudly, and, getting no response, hurried after him.
Reseda reached the top of the wall and pulled himself over. There was a foxhole of sorts not too far away where the three other Rats crouched, shaking rain off of themselves and muttering. As soon as he picked up the voice of the first one who had spoken he jumped down into the pit, ignoring their startled stares and grabbing the first Rat by the collarbone, slamming him into a stack of sandbags. The other two stood immediately and gaped at him.
The first Rat--he was dressed in some reddish-purplish color, though Reseda didn't know his name--sputtered and flailed. "What the--"
Reseda brought his face close, voice low and threatening. "If you're thinking of fragging the CO, you've got another thing coming. I've got your number."
"What the hell are you talking about?" the Rat sputtered, his look pissed.
"Maybe you'd better learn not to yell when you talk. Everybody down in that trench could hear you. Really tough guy who'll plot behind somebody's back. Is it just as easy doing it to someone's face?" He hoisted the Rat up and pushed him back again so his helmet fell over his eyes. The other two scowled and moved closer, but stopped in their tracks when Reseda pulled his revolver and waved it at them. "Mind waiting over there for just a minute? I think your friend has a thick skull. Nothing seems to be getting through."
He slammed him into the wall a third time just as Amaranth appeared over the edge. He hated that the poor guy had to see this, but didn't face him. The Rat let out an oof and Reseda tightened his grip around his neck, causing him to gasp and scrabble at his hands.
Amaranth paled and his head craned atop his neck. "Sir..."
"I'd like to dare you to find somebody more fit to lead this company," Reseda said in a low voice, almost a whisper, directly in the Rat's face. "I think you'd be looking for a good long time. I suppose you think you'd do a better job than the commanding officer."
"You're nuts, do you know that?" the Rat wheezed, curling his lip at him. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, and if you don't let me go--"
"Oh. You mean like this?" Reseda loosed his grip, and the Rat gasped and fell to the ground in a heap. The other two stared at him. He scrambled up, nearly falling over, gasping for breath. Reseda felt his fingers tighten on the handle of his gun but forced himself to keep it pointed at the ground. No need making this worse than it already was. He didn't bother wasting his time trying to think up a way to explain it away to Silver. He put out his foot and tripped him as he got up, instead. The Rat fell into the mud with a splattering sound and the three watchers all winced.
"You do know," the private said, "that if you were in someone else's hands at this moment, and you tried what you were thinking of trying, you'd have a snapped spine by now."
The Rat got up on one knee, his own face pale beneath the mud spatters. He bared his teeth but his eyes were more afraid than angry.
"If you go around flapping your mouth--"
"Then you won't be flapping your own quite so much," Reseda finished for him. "Go on and make a threat that actually scares me. I've been chewed out by better people than you."
The other Rat growled under his breath and stood up, staggering a little. He swept mud and water from himself, inching away from him--though one rank higher, Reseda was the bigger of the two, and the biggest of the five of them standing there. The Rat flicked a hand at his two companions, scowling at Reseda as they left, walking off back toward the trench and disappearing over the edge. By now, the hateful looks they gave didn't even bother him anymore. He let out his breath, feeling tired again. Amaranth appeared, hovering at his side and wringing his hands. He craned his neck again to look into the trench.
"Wow," he said. "They were talking bad about the commander?--you got 'em for mouthing off about him?"
"Something like that." Reseda noticed he still held his gun at his side, and reached up to put it away. He swept his hand across his forehead and left a muddy streak.
"You could get in a lot of trouble for all that, you know..."
"Yeah, I know." And again, to himself, as he made his way back to the trench: I sure as hell know!
He pushed himself over the edge and landed in the water with a splash. Amaranth climbed down after him, chattering away as if he'd just seen a great match. Reseda let him do all of the talking until and whenever he came to a question. He wasn't sure when he'd joined the Battalion, but the other Rat seemed to be more of a newbie than he was. And that was pretty new.
"...never heard of anybody trying to get rid of a CO before. Would they be able to do that? Get rid of Silver, I mean?"
"No, they wouldn't. He hasn't done anything worth getting rid of him for."
"Yeah, that's true...why're they wanting to do that, then? I thought he was s'posed to be one of the top ones or something..."
"They're blaming him for something that isn't his fault."
"Huh?"
Reseda didn't answer. He wasn't sure why that had come out of his mouth, nor exactly what it meant. He shook his head and tried to find his sitting place, only to realize the trenches were all the same, no matter where you sat, you'd get wet. So he selected a puddle that looked shallower than the rest and splashed down in it with a sigh. Amaranth crouched down on his heels but didn't stop talking.
"...lucky he didn't decide to come along just then, you'd be toast!"
"I know..."
"But so would they, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad, huh?"
"I don't know...maybe." He pushed his helmet over his eyes.
He sensed Amaranth moving around in front of him, as if to keep his dwindling attention. "Y'know, I really can't even believe you did that, I mean, maybe you should've punched him and all, but saying all that stuff..."
"Huh?" Reseda pushed his helmet back up, frowning at the other Rat. "What're you talking about?"
"Well..." Amaranth flushed, scratching the back of his head. "All that stuff you said, about the CO."
"What about it?"
"I just can't believe you said it, y'know...I thought you hated him and everything."
"I don't hate him." Again, the words came out of his mouth without him even knowing it, but he didn't retract them; instead he repeated them, in a lower voice, as if trying to convince himself he wasn't lying. "I don't hate him...I just wish he'd find somebody else to tear into sometime."
"Yeah, I guess I get it...I wouldn't be happy if somebody kept laying into me with no reason, not like everything is your fault..."
"It was my fault." He felt himself flushing and once more pulled his helmet down over his eyes, this time so Amaranth couldn't see it. "I deserved it each and every time. He wouldn't yell if he didn't have a reason to."
"Oh." Amaranth sounded genuinely surprised by his opinion. "Oh...all right then. I just thought...y'know...you didn't really seem to like him..."
"Maybe I'm just tired of giving him excuses to tear into me...you tired yet?"
"No, not really...not after all that!"
"Mind keeping an eye out while I doze a little? Maybe you're right and that flu thing is still going around. I think I need some more sleep."
"Oh. Sure! You get some sleep, I'll make sure everybody's behaving themselves..."
Reseda nodded slightly and crossed his arms, gun resting across his knees. He shut his eyes and did what he'd intended to do in the first place, tuned everything out, drowsing off and hoping that whatever he dreamed up was better, or at least drier, than all of this was.
The map was laid out flat and paperweights--one composed of a hand grenade--set upon its corners so it didn't curl back up. The Rats standing around it in a circle all leaned over at once, staring at it.
"So tell me what we're looking at," Gold said.
"The city's right here." Copper pointed at the lower right corner. "They've already hit this part, and over here. This part's untouched. They might have some men stationed there, they might not."
"This is the best you can tell me?"
"Without sending anybody in, and possibly getting blown to bits--yes, that's the best I have. I could only cover half of the city myself."
"Silver could've covered the rest," Indigo murmured, as if his best friend had just died.
Gold chewed on the inside of his mouth. "So...this part of the city's checked out, and this part is iffy."
Copper nodded.
"So either way we're going to have to send somebody in there to see how the civilians are doing."
"And get blown up."
"Yeah, well, I was kinda hoping maybe they'd forget that part."
"I doubt it."
Gold shrugged. "Call me an optimist."
Black hadn't said anything yet. He was the only one not hovering over the map, instead sitting in his chair, almost blocked out of the group by the rest of them. "Where are all the COs at this moment?" he asked, drawing their attention. "And the companies. Where are they stationed?"
"Delta and Echo are in the trenches. A few from Alpha are down there too. I think the rest of Alpha's hanging out around here along with Bravo and Charlie. Blue and Silver are with their companies."
"We don't need that many people out there. It's practically flooding, the Germans aren't going to try anything at this point."
"I think we scared them off anyway," Gold said, rubbing his neck. "Somehow the thought of coughing up blood and drowning in my own mucus doesn't appeal to me, either."
"Drown, hell," Indigo muttered. "You were singing."
"I don't remember any of that, okay? My brain was frying!"
"We'd better send some people into the city to see if it spread that far," Black said. "It already hit the partisans and it looks like it got the Germans. If we infected the townspeople, I believe we owe it to them to fight this thing off."
"Remember what Donovan said?" Gold cut in. "The last big influenza hit in two waves. One in spring-summer, and one in the fall. We're just getting over this, but summer's not going to be around much longer...if this is the same thing."
"It's close enough. Tell Delta to cover the trenches. Bravo and Echo will check out the city. Charlie can follow as backup, in case they're needed."
Copper nodded, saluted, and turned to leave. "Echo...?" Gold murmured, rubbing his neck again. Black and Indigo looked up at him and he held up his hands.
"Nothing, nothing...just thinking out loud. Bravo and Echo it is." He gave a mock salute and did an about-face, leaving the office.
"You'd better get going," Black said to Indigo. "They'll be counting on Charlie in case anything goes wrong."
"A city full of sick and dead people," Indigo protested. "What can go wrong?"
Black frowned at him. "Anything."
Bravo and Echo Companies, with Charlie in tow, made their way toward the city on foot. The dogs and birds would have drawn too much attention in such closed quarters, well they knew. The Rats kept silent as they trudged along, but for the occasional cough or sniffle. Echo Company followed Bravo, so Reseda walked near the back of the group. Many of them were still out with the flu, so there were much fewer than the usual number of about one hundred and sixty. Charlie Company was little better off.
Reseda shook rainwater from his helmet and craned his neck to look toward the front.
Gold, as leader of Bravo, was leader of the group as well; the corporal occasionally chatted with another Rat Reseda didn't recogize. He seemed to be going over something. The private glanced to the other side and found who he was looking for. Silver walked near the front as well, gun over his shoulder; Reseda could only guess that Gold had asked him to walk up front. At first Reseda stared at him and scoffed at what the others in Echo had been whispering about. Silver was still battered--bruises lined his ribs, one in particular darkening his eye; his ankles and wrists were bandaged. He walked with a slight limp, which Reseda didn't like, but aside from that--despite his injuries--he looked the same as ever. What change had the others been talking about? He was the same old Silver; they must have been seeing things.
Then he took another look at Silver's face, when the lance-corporal turned his head, and had to chew down on his tongue. He couldn't believe what he saw.
Silver's eyes, usually cold and as piercing as bayonets, were muted now somehow, faded and distant and--distracted? No, that couldn't be right; the LC was never distracted! Yet rather than listen to what Gold was saying, or keep alert for an ambush as he was supposed to be doing, he stared off into space, unfocused and inattentive. It was a wonder he didn't trip over his own feet.
Reseda pushed his way to the front of Echo Company, still near the middle of the group. It was the best he could do. He nearly ran into Copper, who drew his arm in and gave him an inquisitive look. Reseda ignored the other Rat and started glancing up at the trees.
"Expecting something?" Copper asked, and Reseda had to chew his tongue again. Of course the other Rat would have to be curious.
"Looking out for any Germans."
"We have guys at the front to do that."
"Yeah, well, call me paranoid, Sir."
Copper shrugged and left him alone. He started looking around the trees on the opposite side instead. It was better than nothing.
Gold gave a whistle and everyone looked forward. The corporal held his hand up.
"City's coming up. Everybody be ready for...whatever."
A collective rattling sound as everyone brought their guns down and into position. Reseda squinted and tried to see ahead of him.
There were several larger cities not too far from the Trench Rats Headquarters, and they were approaching the south one. They never seemed to refer to any of the nearby cities by their proper names, whatever those were...Reseda assumed it was for matters of security, or something. And so the nearby cities bore such names as "South City," "North City," "East City," etc. He wondered why they didn't call them Southburg, Northburg, and Eastburg.
He'd tried mentioning that to Amaranth once but even he had given him a funny look.
He noticed, even from his own distance, the somewhat anxious tone in Gold's voice, and it was somewhat unsettling. "Pretty quiet around here..."
"Didrika's men say they were hit at least twice," Silver said. "I doubt there would be many survivors."
"Well, that's what we're here for..."
"Why are the Germans bombing their own cities?" Amaranth whispered to Reseda, but all he could do was shrug. Nothing around here seemed to make much sense anymore.
"Maybe they think there's spies there or something...I don't know."
Gold waved his hand again. "Everyone quiet. Keep your eyes peeled."
Amaranth made a face; Reseda wondered if he'd ever heard the phrase before. He didn't ask, but did as he was told. The group made its way carefully down the slope toward the main road leading into the city. By now it was muddy and pitted with craters; most of the buildings nearest them stood stark in the falling rain, in differing states of ruin. They weren't as badly damaged as Reseda would have expected. But neither did the city look inhabited in any manner, anymore.
"Place looks deserted," Gold murmured, as if reading his thoughts.
Someone sneezed and they all jumped. They blended in quite well, having left behind their colored capes for camouflage ones, but this didn't seem to make them feel any safer.
"We're too easy a target out here in the open," Gold muttered. "Somebody could take us all out at once. Bravo, we'll check out the north and east ends of the city. Silver, you and Echo check out the south and west."
Silver raised his gun and swept it aside, indicating they follow him. The group split into two, and then into four as they went their separate ways. Amaranth hurried to catch up with Reseda, who ended up following Silver's group.
"Think we'll find any bodies?"
"It's almost a given."
"I haven't seen a body before...well...except for that guy who coughed himself to death..."
"I'm sure you'll see more, soon." Reseda glanced around and then did a skip, landing a few inches away. Amaranth peered at him before looking down and doing the same, letting out a small yelp.
"See," Reseda said. He nudged the still body lying before them, rainsoaked, with one foot; when it didn't move, he took Amaranth's arm before the medic in him could see fit to take over, and dragged him away.
"Nothing you could do, about that one..."
The young Rat swallowed convulsively. "Just...doesn't seem quite the same when it's real."
"That's true..."
He slowed down when he saw Silver do the same, far ahead of them. The rest of the group had fanned out and were checking the houses; this part of the city hadn't been as badly hit as the north end. A woman lay upon the sidewalk, and Silver pressed his fingers to her neck.
Reseda and Amaranth stood and watched him. The medic looked ready to cross his fingers.
Silver paused a moment, then stood up and moved on. The other two let out their breath and followed. When they passed the woman Amaranth looked down at her anyway, despite Reseda putting pressure on his arm. His face turned pasty.
"She's...she's...swollen glands..."
"Glands?" Reseda glanced over his shoulder briefly before nudging him on. "Looks like the sergeant was right..."
"If he...if he is, that means we did this!"
"No it doesn't. Remember what Indigo said. It looks like the Germans came up with this thing first and sicced it on us." He bit the inside of his mouth even as he spoke, not liking the sound of what had been implied, but it was easier than taking the blame. He hadn't even become sick at all. How much longer could he go without feeling guilty?
"Besides," he added, as an afterthought, "if the flu hadn't killed them off then the bombs would've..."
Amaranth nodded. Apparently the excuse went over well with him, and Reseda offered nothing further.
He stopped again, forcing the medic to do the same, when he noticed Silver ahead, shielding his eyes and staring southward. A few other members of Echo came straggling up, emptyhanded and discouraged looking. Silver slung his gun over his shoulder again and pointed.
"Untouched house up at the top of that hill, just outside the city. Somebody there might have escaped it all. We're going to check it out."
He started forward and the rest of them followed, unquestioning. Reseda felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach but didn't give it voice. Amaranth did that for him.
"How...how do we know whoever's in there is friendly?"
Sometimes, he genuinely admired the newbie's insight.
What if they really are right about the LC? What if his judgement is all off now? What if he screws up and gets us all killed?
He looked around for the other few Echo members who had been talking in the trench. He thought maybe he saw one or two of them, scowling, but couldn't be sure if it were them or not. He wasn't very good with faces, it seemed...
They trudged past the edge of the city and up a high grassy field. Everything was brown and drab, which was probably best considering they had left behind their colored capes for ones of dull camouflage. A huge house stood at the top, undamaged by whatever had befallen the city. It looked to be a manor of some sort, with how big it was, but the weeds around it showed it hadn't been maintained well in a long time. Reseda started wondering again. What if nobody even lived here? What if somebody did, but had been dead a long time now?
He shuddered. Amaranth did the same and Reseda wondered if he'd been thinking the same thought.
They made their way across a giant lawn and up to a porch supported by columns. Not all of Echo Company had followed, so only a handful of them waited under the shielding rooftop while Silver took hold of a large brass knocker and banged it against the door. A moment passed as they fidgeted, and Reseda started thinking that when the door finally did open, some sort of monster would come out.
When it rattled and cracked open, that wasn't what happened. All of the Rats turned to face the door when a wary face peered out, giving them suspicious looks. Reseda could see that the man wore some sort of suit, almost like a butler; he appeared to sense Silver as the leader of the group and looked his way.
"Sprechen sie Englisch?" Silver asked.
The man nodded curtly. He looked almost ready to scowl at them to go away, but said nothing.
"Are you the master of the house?"
A shake.
"Then take us to him. We would like to talk."
The man paused and looked at all of them. A few of the Rats near the back shifted their guns to a more conspicuous position, not too subtly. The man frowned at them but opened the door further, waving them in. Silver passed him without a word, and the others followed.
They entered into what seemed to be a parlor of some sort, and Reseda's initial impressions appeared to be confirmed. This had been a stately residence, once. It still was, in a dusty, neglected way. He nearly tripped over a small fancy couch and winced at the pain in his toe. At least the place was well lit, the parlor all in shades of cream and rose. Whoever lived here must have had serious money, at least in the past.
"Looks kinda like the house my folks worked in when I was little," Amaranth said, looking around him.
Reseda didn't feel like asking him what it was his folks had done; he felt it would have been pretty menial. The "butler" had disappeared from the room after letting them in, and he'd been gone for quite a few minutes now. He took a step toward Silver to ask him what they intended to do here when Silver turned his head to look toward the arched doorway at the other side of the room. The man who had answered the door was emerging, and behind him came a second, leaning on a cane and walking more slowly. He stopped as soon as he entered the room and glanced at them all.
Well...Reseda guessed there was no longer much need to be worried. If this was the master of the house, he wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight if he wanted to. Thin and frail and somewhat aged, the rat came toward them with an inquisitive look before putting one hand to his breast and bobbing his head.
"Welcome...I apologize it took me so long to arrive, but I had no word of guests coming."
"We were unannounced," Silver replied. "This is your house?"
"My house, yes, and my property."
"Your name?"
"Vischer. You may call me Vischer."
"We're from Echo Company of the Trench Rats First Battalion. I wanted to speak with you about your house."
Vischer stared at him, then briefly looked him over from head to foot. His gaze fell on the bruises along Silver's ribs for a moment before moving to his face again. "I believe I know why you are all here...there has been word going around, of your men securing households and using them as communications bases. I heard this is what you did with the home of Dietrich Brenner."
Silver tensed. The other Rats brought their guns down again but a slight motion of his head stopped them from doing any further. Vischer held up one frail hand.
"Do not worry...this is not common knowledge, yet. Though it very well may be, soon. I have known Dietrich for a long time now. He was a good friend, before we went our separate ways."
"When was the last time you spoke with him?"
"Many years now...you did not come here to talk about Dietrich? You wished to speak about my house. Why it's still standing. Ja?"
This time Silver stared at him before replying. "It deserves a good explanation."
"Well, I'm afraid the only explanation is the one you're looking for. My house was not hit because they did not wish to hit it. They may kill their own people in the town, but for some reason I was worth sparing to them."
"The reason being--?"
"I would suppose it had to do with that plague they claimed you were spreading."
Reseda's muscles tensed reflexively and he took a step forward. "It wasn't--"
"Private," Silver snapped, and Reseda flushed and stepped back. The lance-corporal looked at Vischer again. "This is what they've been saying? We were responsible for this?"
"What they have been saying, yes. Whether anyone believes them or not, I cannot say. Personally I know that the Rats would not have subjected themselves to this in order to kill off our civilians. This is simply not...your 'style.'" He shifted his cane and narrowed his eyes slightly. "I will assume you have all come to take over my property as your own temporary base, to keep an eye upon the city."
"This is what we had in mind."
Vischer blinked as if surprised. Apparently he hadn't expected such a blunt response. He rubbed his jaw, then placed both of his hands upon the cane.
"Well...do you not mind me asking what your orders are, if I were to refuse?"
"Our orders are to kill you with the most effective means necessary."
Amaranth swallowed audibly. The butler scowled. Vischer only nodded.
"Reasonable enough...though I didn't quite expect you to be so forthright." He paused. "I'll have you know right now...I have not been a great fan of what the National Socialists are doing. Though of course I would not tell them this."
Silver said nothing.
"I suppose I shall be as forthright as you then...so long as Franz and myself are still allowed to stay here, you may do whatever you wish. Tear open the walls and plant radios within them if it helps you out any."
"We hadn't intended on doing that, but you should know that you would not be able to leave here except under armed escort."
Vischer waved one hand at the air. "As if this would bother me...I hardly ever leave as it is. Franz has always brought back supplies from the city, but with the shape it is in now...and I assume that you and your men will simply bring in whatever you need anyway. So please do not mind me. I'm too old to worry much about such things anymore."
Silver stared at him a moment, then nodded once. He turned and flicked his hand at the others.
"Private Reseda. Amaranth. You, Manila. Check out the upstairs level. Peacock, Taupe, look around for any attics. Gamboge and Crocus search for any hidden rooms or hallways. The rest of us will check out the ground level. Get going."
The Rats saluted and moved off. Reseda turned to head for the upstairs before realizing he had no idea where the stairway was. Franz answered this by waving them forward with an irritated gesture, leaving the room and heading for a large staircase at the other side of the house. Reseda followed, and heard Amaranth and Manila coming behind him.
"I hope the floors are nice and sturdy..." Amaranth murmured, and Reseda sighed. Leave it to him to come up with yet one more thing to worry about.
By the time he heard a bell ringing somewhere far off, Reseda's eyes were so coated with dust that he was nearly crying. He rubbed at them furiously and glanced around. He had no idea where Amaranth had gone, but if the upstairs was dusty, he hated to think what poor Peacock and Taupe were going through. Manila--he only knew it was Manila because of Silver's command--poked around in a corner near a fireplace--an upstairs fireplace? It looked as if it hadn't been used in years. Most of the upstairs appeared this way.
He coughed to try to get Manila's attention, but ended up hacking on a cloud of dust. Well, it worked anyway. The other Rat turned his head to look at him and seemed slightly annoyed.
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"A bell or something."
"There's bells going off all over the place...I tuned them out a long time ago. The geezer must have a hundred clocks."
Reseda bit the inside of his mouth, not appreciating the "geezer" comment but keeping it to himself. "Well, I guess this one sounded different then because I didn't even notice the others."
"I didn't hear it."
The little ding sound came again, as if to spite him. Manila frowned and turned back to his poking. "Probably some stupid cuckoo clock..."
"Reseda?" a voice called from the other side of the house. The two Rats stood in a large reading room of some sort with a bare wooden floor, the occasional thick-pile rug obscuring worn spots. Windows let in a pale gray light that nevertheless hurt Reseda's eyes even further. He coughed again and moved toward the entrance which had no door, but led directly to a wide hallway. He could see the other room opposite, and Amaranth approached from it. The other Rat blinked at him a few times, then laughed.
"You're all dusty."
"You aren't exactly spic-and-span yourself."
"Did you hear some kinda little bell or something? It went off twice. I thought maybe it was a clock but it didn't sound right..."
Reseda gave Manila a look and the other Rat snorted. "Yeah, I did. Maybe it's what's-his-name...you know how they have dumbwaiters, maybe they have a bell to get our attention."
Amaranth's eyes lit up. "Oh! Neat!"
"I think we should get downstairs and find out before they say we're MIA."
Amaranth nodded eagerly and disappeared in the direction of the staircase. Reseda glanced back at Manila one last time. "You coming?"
The Rat muttered something unintelligible. Reseda shrugged and left him. As he followed Amaranth down the steps, taking them two at a time, he sighed and rubbed his eyes again. He still wasn't used to feeling dirty, though he figured he'd better get used to it soon.
The butler--Franz--whoever he was--stood waiting at the bottom of the staircase with a disapproving look on his face, which only grew when he saw their dusty state. He waved curtly for them to follow and they did. In the parlor the rest of the Rats had returned, a few of them examining books or boxes or some other such items they'd brought in. They seemed more curious than suspicious. Apparently nobody had found anything to be overly suspicious of. Reseda knew he hadn't come across any hidden doorways, at least.
Vischer himself stood in the arched doorway, watching them all. "I trust you didn't find what you were looking for?" he said after a moment.
Silver looked up at him before turning his attention back to a box one of the Rats was trying to open, with little success. He tapped its side and it popped open immediately, revealing a secret compartment with no contents. He pushed the little drawer back in.
"You trust right. You know already we plan on stationing some of our men here."
Vischer nodded once.
"We're heading back to get more supplies. We didn't expect to find anything much standing." He nodded at Manila, finally appearing from the stairway. "Manila. Private." Reseda snapped to attention when he realized Silver was speaking to him. "You two will stay behind to make certain everything stays quiet here. The rest of us will head to HQ. We should be back by morning."
"Yes Sir," the two Rats said, though Manila didn't seem to be very enthusiastic about it.
Vischer stood up straighter and held up one hand slightly, as if wanting to say something before the other Rats left. Silver turned away from him without seeing it. The rest of them glanced at him before following the lance-corporal to the door. Amaranth didn't seem to want to leave; he gave Reseda a pitiful look, until Reseda nodded at him as if to say, Go on, I'll be fine. Then his face brightened a little and he exited as well. Franz stood near the door making certain they didn't leave with any of the items they'd brought into the room, and he sniffed with disdain once the last had departed, shutting the door behind him and dusting his hands.
Manila yawned.
Reseda heard a cough, and turned to look at Vischer. When the old man knew he had his attention he stood up straighter again.
"Ah...I had meant to make this offer to all of your comrades. But it seems they were in a bit of a hurry to leave. I overheard a few of them complaining that they had not eaten since leaving this morning, is this true?"
Reseda rubbed the back of his neck, hoping his own hunger didn't show on his face. "Um...yes, Sir."
The rat smiled. "You hardly have any need to call me 'Sir'..."
"Sorry, Sir...habit."
Vischer nodded. "That's all right then...please, if you two are hungry, would you join me in the dining hall? You are both my guests, and welcome to whatever you like."
"If you don't mind..." Reseda turned to see Manila had spoken. "I think I should be keeping an eye out. I'm going to go sit up by the north window. If you don't mind."
"I'll have Franz bring you up something to eat then," Vischer said. Manila gave him a look that said he didn't trust him whatsoever, but nodded and turned away, trotting back up the staircase. Reseda watched him before offering an awkward smile.
"Um...please excuse him, Sir. Long day."
"So I've seen...please, just follow me and Franz will fetch you something to eat...after that you may clean yourself off, I've noticed that the upstairs hasn't been cleaned nearly as well as it should have in quite a while..."
"Oh." Reseda flushed, glancing down at the thick layer of dust and mud covering him, and suddenly felt self-conscious. "...Sorry, Sir. I don't want to impose..."
"Nonsense." He turned to the doorway and waved his hand. "I'd have you clean that off right now if you'd eaten sooner. Please follow."
Reseda did as he was told, not sure what else to say. They entered a kitchen which was larger than the main room of his home back in the States and seemed to be all countertops and tiled floor. He tried not to stare at anything for too long, instead glancing every so often at the butler as he prepared something at the other end of the room, himself casting back suspicious glances.
"He does not trust Americans," Vischer said, noticing Reseda's look. "I must apologize for this. His manners are sometimes lacking, but he is an excellent servant."
"I have no problem with it, Sir..."
"The dining hall is through the next door. Would you join me?"
Reseda nodded once, and followed him again. This room was even bigger than the kitchens. He wondered how many people would fit in it wall to wall before sitting down, and noticing almost immediately a large sandwich set in front of him. His eyes widened.
Vischer offered a smile. "I thought perhaps it would be more fitting for an American palate...perhaps you would like something else?"
"Oh--no, Sir. Thank you." He picked it up and took a bite as if to prove he meant it, and chewed a little rapidly.
"And so where exactly do you come from?" Vischer said, ignoring the sandwich Franz set before him before leaving the room.
"Indiana, Sir."
"How long have you been with the Trench Rats?"
"Long?" Reseda glanced up at him, swallowing, before looking back down at his sandwich. "About four months, Sir."
"Four months? This is a short time. Were you drafted?"
"No, Sir. I signed up."
Vischer nodded almost absently. "Enlisting...it's been a long time since I last considered that. You are not worried about possibly being killed? Of leaving your family behind?"
"There's just my father." Reseda wiped his mouth and took note of the odd feeling the conversation was giving him. He shrugged it off. "I wasn't doing much back home, so I thought I would try this out."
"You are disappointed?"
"Oh--no, Sir. Confused. Kind of. But not really disappointed."
The old rat's mouth twitched in a smile. Reseda took another bite of the sandwich and looked up at one of the high windows. "Your commanding officer, I assume he was, seemed to be in a bit of a hurry to leave. I will not object, but this house isn't the most strategic spot from which to view the town."
"He's...kind of like that, Sir. I don't think it was anything personal."
"I notice he was a little bit...'roughed up,' as your people would put it."
Reseda bit the inside of his mouth and tears nearly came to his eyes. He pressed a knuckle to his cheek to try to quell the pain as Vischer cocked his head a little.
"He...he hasn't had a very good week...Sir."
"Oh?"
A little voice in the back of Reseda's head told him to keep his mouth shut...but he looked up at Vischer and saw the inquisitive look in his eyes and for some reason suddenly felt like saying everything.
"There...we were on a mission, Sir, and I messed it up. I screwed the whole thing up. He had to go out and finish the job alone and the Nazis wolfpacked him. I should've been the one that they got, but they got him instead."
Vischer didn't speak.
"And he didn't say anything about it but from the looks of it they brought him back and beat the shit out of him and...did other things...he doesn't even know I was the one supposed to be watching his back that day."
"You have not told him?" Vischer's voice was quiet.
Reseda bit the inside of his mouth again, this time on purpose. He stared down at his sandwich and didn't feel like eating it anymore. "I don't think I can. I've screwed up before, but never anything like this. He saved my life twice, actually, and then I messed up and this is what he got."
"You feel this is your fault."
The Trench Rat sighed and set the sandwich down, pushing his plate away. "It is. Nobody else screwed up, I did."
"This is not as if you meant to. Surely they would know it was a mistake."
"You don't make mistakes in the Trench Rats. If you do, you don't deserve to be one." He found himself standing up abruptly, pushing his chair back. "I'm--sorry I'm bothering you with all this, Sir. I think I should give Manila a hand..."
"Wait a moment." Vischer stood as well, reaching out and touching his arm lightly. Reseda flushed and averted his eyes. "I suppose I cannot convince you this was not your fault, though I did promise you would be able to clean yourself off. Please, allow me to show you the washroom. Perhaps you are used to being covered in filth, though I can hardly stand the thought of you sleeping like that."
Reseda bit the inside of his cheek a third time, though this time to keep himself from letting out a nervous laugh. Vischer seemed to see the look on his face and smiled. "There, no hard feelings then. I apologize for prying. Please follow me."
He turned and went toward the door. Reseda felt a pang on making the poor guy walk around so much, but couldn't think of a polite way to turn down the offer, and so followed him again. Perhaps he was right. He hadn't been feeling very clean lately.
(FINISH SCENES)
Reseda sighed and shifted, forcing his eyes open for what must have been the millionth time. It certainly felt like it, at least. He glanced at his watch and saw that nearly four hours had passed. He looked over toward Silver. He still lay asleep several yards away, breathing slow and even.
Reseda didn't have the heart to wake him up. It was obvious he hadn't slept this soundly in days. That must have been the reason behind his lack of focus. Perhaps if he got some sleep then what the others of Echo Company had been saying wouldn't come true.
He felt sleep tugging at his own eyes, his whole body fatigued from keeping alert so much lately, yet shook it off as best he could. Silver would be pissed to find out he'd missed his shift. Reseda could lie and say the time had passed so quickly he'd lost track. It was a lame excuse, but better than nothing.
He sighed again and focused his eyes on a lump of dirt some distance before him, mentally reciting the most annoying poems he knew.
A hissing sound. He turned his head to see it had come from Silver. He still slept, yet peace had fled his face, and he looked ready to snarl. His hands, curled into fists, tightened and relaxed again as if straining against something. He gave a soft growl.
Reseda felt his chest constricting. He's having a nightmare. He's dreaming about it.
He pushed himself over and crawled toward him on hands and knees. Silver's dream seemed to grow more violent and he felt he had to do something before he started screaming. He reached him and crouched down, looking in his face. Silver's features contorted like those of a mad dog and he growled again.
Reseda reached out and pushed on his shoulder. "Sir? Wake up. Sir...?"
Silver tensed away from him with a snarl. Reseda pushed himself up with one hand and shook him harder. "Sir."
Something squeezed his fingers and he started with a gasp, backing away. Silver's hand had wrapped around his own and held it tightly, almost painfully so. Reseda looked up again to see that his face had gone peaceful again, the dream obviously over. He let out his breath and carefully worked to extract his hand.
Silver snorted and reached up to rub his eyes.
Reseda pulled his hand loose immediately before the lance-corporal could notice. He sat back on his haunches and pretended to be scanning the horizon.
Silver blinked up at him and frowned. "Reseda?"
Reseda blinked. He couldn't remember a time Silver hadn't addressed him as "Private" or, at the most, "Private Reseda."
"Er...yes Sir?"
"What are you doing? Is the shift up yet?"
"No, Sir...still got a couple more hours to go."
Silver mumbled incoherently and turned back onto his side, letting his cape fall over him and falling silent again.
Reseda sat still and stared at him.
(FINISH SCENES/STORY)
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