Necrocide (10 page)

“Oh John, do not speak for me, this idiot will understand soon enough.” She reiterated the fear and dread. Granger laughed out loud, still quite incredulous. He knew Hawkins had bought every aspect of her tall tale; there was little hope of turning him.

“I believe her” Beach called out nervously.

“Shut up Beach.” Granger replied. Hawkins turned to the skinny teenager whose face was beginning to annoy him.

“Yeah Beach. Shut up.”

CHAPTER 12

“What now then?” George Granger asked his mate who was as restless as he.

“To tell you the truth, I don't know. We need to hook up with some of our boys and get out of this place.” Hawkins replied quietly as Genevieve remained sitting meekly upon the red carpeted steps to the altar. Beach sat alone still mumbling to himself. He was not cut out for this and although the Commando's felt sorry for him, they had no wish to comfort him when they all felt equally as distressed and tired.

“Caen.” A quiet feminine voice came from behind them.

“I need to go to Caen. My mother is there. She is alone. My father is dead.” Genevieve was very matter of fact.

“Go on then.” Granger said obtusely.

“George, don't be such a prick.” Hawkins berated his pal; sometimes he could be quite callous.

“Hawk, don't be offended mate, but are you seriously considering escorting this bit of fluff to Caen? Home of the Nazi HQ in this region. 21
st
Panzer Division.” Granger never pulled his punches.

“Did I say that?” Hawkins replied although he had to admit to himself that he was open to ideas. George began to whisper.

“Look mate, I get it, she's top totty. Worth a fuck in anyone's book...but not to die for mate.”

Hawkins laughed it off.

“Listen, Caen means Bayeux, it's where we were all going to eventually end up anyway! If there are other Tommys out here, that's where they are heading too, they might already be there.”

“You're mad.” Granger replied firmly.

“George, what's the alternative? We stay here and wait for something to happen? Go back to the beach and start swimming?” Hawkins liked to move forward not back.

“Well, I would have thought a priority was to find a radio in good order.” The ginger corporal replied wisely.

“Well, chances are we will come across more dead Jerries on the way. As long as we miss the bulletproof ones, we'll be OK.” Hawkins smiled knowing that his mate had already dismissed the notion that they existed.

“If I didn't love you, I'd have to shoot you, you know that?” Granger jested.

“She is gorgeous isn't she?” Hawkins replied with a grin.

“I'll tell you what she was like in the morning.” The cheeky corporal knew Hawkins well.

“Right come on then woman. Let's go and find mummy.” Granger called out as he hoisted his Bren up to his waist. Genevieve was surprised at the Brits fortitude.

“Thank you. Both of you.” She cooed.

“What? Caen? You're fucking joking right?” Beach stood up waving his arms about in despair. “You're insane aren’t you?”

“You don't have to come.” Hawkins said coolly knowing that to be left behind was Beach's worst nightmare.

Beach stood in shock as the others filed out of the church, Genevieve the last to leave. She gave him a snide look as if she had won her personal battle and she winked, cruelly. Beach puffed his chest and ran after them, his weapon clanging against his belt as he went.

*

“Why are we walking?” Beach whined from the rear as they all trudged through the darkness of the Bocage.

“Because it's quiet...unlike you, you prat.” Granger replied. He had taken the rear of Genevieve so that he had at the very least something interesting to look at along the way. Caen was a large town and the prominent settlement in the Normandy region. It was to be the ultimate goal of the first day of the landings. The majority of the Allies knew that Field Marshall Montgomery's target was unrealistic. It had proven difficult enough to land and become an effective force on the beaches let alone move swiftly inland swatting all asunder.

Genevieve kept pace with Hawkins who took point. Despite her meek and mild appearance, she was rather tenacious and not one to suffer fools gladly. Hawkins did not want to attract undue attention by small talking down the winding roads but he yearned a little conversation. Genevieve was not too obliging; Hawkins had the impression that she was the sort to be convivial when it suited her. She was going to be a tough nut to crack.

A couple of arduous miles later and after a non eventful trek, the small group heard the sounds of smalls arm fire for the first time since the previous morning. Hawkins guessed it to be a dozen or so guns in the distance and it immediately brought everyone to attention as they bundled each other to the roadside. Creeping along the verge, guns with their safety's live and trigger fingers poised, the squad made heavy work of advancing. The sounds of gunshots intensified and culminated in a large crack and then a sub-sonic boom that the soldiers could feel beat their chests. A plume of yellow fire mushroomed into the night sky from behind the hedgerows and Hawkins assumed that a quantity of petroleum had ignited.

Hawkins turned and silently ushered Genevieve to stay put as the others advanced. She seemed to baulk at being told what to do and her face offered a thunderous expression which almost brought a smile to Hawkins face. There was a T junction ahead and although there was no sign of movement, the odd shooting star effect from bullets fizzling from east to west could be glimpsed. There were raised voices and Hawkins felt that they may be German in origin but he could not say for sure. Granger tapped Hawkins shoulder and motioned that he was going to take the other side of the road. His Bren machine gun would be used to good effect from a position of cover and he immediately took flight and dived down into the soft leafy verge on the other side of the asphalt path. Beach hung so close to Hawkins advance that he was almost tripping up the Commando and he turned in annoyance and gave him a withering look. Hawkins did not like to have the green teenager on his six, he felt nervous that Beach was in charge of a sub-machine gun so close to his rear. Itchy trigger fingers led to severe accidents and Hawkins felt ill at ease with the trembling novice behind him.

Suddenly, the gunfire petered out, a few last blasts echoed down the road and then silence resumed. The only thing that could be heard was the crackling of burning wood and a soft glow emanated from up ahead over the shrubbery. Picking up their pace and moving in tandem, Hawkins and Granger reached the junction and took cover to survey their surroundings. They crawled as close as they dare to witness a badly damaged German troop-carrying truck, bonnet in flames and buried into a hedge. Many bodies littered the surrounding area, some hanging from their limbs over the side of the vehicle which was askew, its rear onside wheel off the ground. Hawkins gripped his SMG tightly as there was movement! Underneath the chassis of the truck, between the wheels Hawkins could see a forlorn soldier, trapped and trying in vain to free himself. With his attention fully on the plight of this unfortunate individual, Hawkins had failed to notice an approaching soldier from his left and whilst Granger furiously tried to bring his friends attention to the oncoming combatant, Hawkins was oblivious until the slowly pacing soldier was virtually standing a few feet from him. Hawkins froze immediately and wisely did not attempt to dive into the greenery which would have caused a distinct sound. Hawkins even squinted his eyes lest the soldier catch the white reflection of the moonlight in his glassy orbs and which great relief and a modicum of good fortune, the soldier passed him by as he made his way towards the truck.

It was at that point that Hawkins noticed the smell. An acidic, acrid stench which he found hard to tolerate without burying his face in his sleeve. Recognising the uniform of the distinctive Waffen SS, Hawkins retreated inch by inch and set his sights upon the foul enemy. Glancing over to Granger, he saw that the corporal was giving him a sign to stand down. Something curious was happening here and the Commando's watched with great interest as the SS officer approached his comrade who was still writhing around under the truck to be free. The SS officer stopped a moment and the grey coat clad Wehrmacht soldier began to cry out in heartfelt pleas for mercy. Hawkins could hardly assimilate what was going on. The Germans were fighting each other! In their hour of triumph, they had begun to self destruct as if they were not tired of battle. After destroying the Allies, they would destroy each other. It seemed madness.

Hawkins trained his sights upon the SS officers back. The black uniform of the soldier was tattered; his slacks were cut from the knee downwards and even in the light from the fire, and Hawkins could tell this individual had seen better days. Looking down upon the scattered bodies of his foe, the officer coolly pulled the pistol from its holster and began finishing off anything that looked remotely alive. Systematically pounding a round into each, he remained silent throughout and then turned his attention to the last remaining survivor who was clearly pinned inexorably beneath the truck. It sickened Hawkins that he was about to witness an execution and although he had seen many die in many horrifying ways, it occurred to him that this was not an act of war, it was an act of murder.

Hawkins dithered as the fate of the forlorn soldier hung in the balance, he felt the compunction to leap to his feet and unload his weapon into the back of the foul smelling SS officer. Only the most loyal and subservient to Hitler were bestowed the SS honour and it would be no hardship to deprive the world of another tyrant. Hawkins watched in agony as the pistol was trained upon the prostrate German. He cursed his own indecision and he waited solemnly for the fatal shot.

The shot did not ring out as expected. Much to Hawkins' and Granger's utter horror, the SS officer was distracted by none other than Genevieve who stood as bold as brass in the centre of the road brandishing what looked like a small pistol in her hand. She stood fast, her thumb disengaged the safety and she trained her sights upon the SS officer who turned slowly to see who dared take arms against him.

“For God's sake you fools, fire your weapons!” She barked and the Commando's hesitated for a moment to take in this incredible turn of events. Looking back to the enemy, Hawkins stood up and trained his sights upon the soldier as he raised his pistol to shoot the young woman. Unleashing the full wrath of his SMG for the first time in the campaign, the SS soldier flailed his arms as the bullets tore through his chest. Granger too opened up and the slower yet more powerful rounds of the Bren began to tear chunks of flesh from the bones of the soldier whose legs somehow did not give way until the last shots of Hawkins magazine. Genevieve advanced, skipping forward she had no qualms approaching the stricken enemy and proceeding to empty her own gun into the head of her target at point blank range.

Hawkins and Granger chose first to reload their weapons before advancing, their fire would be heard for some distance and they remained vigilant as they emerged from the cover and inspected the scene at close quarters.

“Where the hell is Beach?” Hawkins asked Granger as they scouted the area.

“No idea.” The corporal replied. He did not care at this moment as his attention was captured by the immediacy of his situation.

“If you are looking for the other, he ran off in that direction.” Genevieve puffed as her heart was clearly pounding and her adrenaline flowing. She pointed back in the direction from which they had just come and Hawkins shook his head in disbelief.

“Waste of space.” Granger replied as they stood over the twitching body of the SS soldier.

“My God, it stinks!” Granger hissed as he was seen to physically wretch. Hawkins noted that Genevieve’s bullets had done their work. The soldiers' head had been mutilated by their force and there was little left to look at.

“Look at you with your cannon. Where did that come from?” Hawkins spoke out regarding the young woman's pistol which she uncouthly holstered back in her underwear after hitching up her dress offering quite a sight to a wide eyed Hawkins. She looked at him as if to say, 'now you know' and brushed her hair back from her face nonchalantly.

“Jesus!” Granger laughed at the bizarre nature of the situation and the dark horse that was the once timid local girl.

A soft moan of discomfort reminded Hawkins that the German trapped beneath the truck demanded his attention. Perhaps with thoughtful interrogation, it might be revealed just what was going on here.

CHAPTER 13

Hawkins took to his haunches to look beneath the truck where two white eyes stared back at him. The Commando studied the man for a moment, looking into his eyes to read his intentions. The German was in no position to be aggressive; his right leg was caught underneath the thick rubbery tyre and pushed down into the soft verge.

“If I free you, you are going to behave aren't you?” Hawkins said calmly. He was after all in control of this man's destiny. The German remained silent, he breathed heavily, clearly in a fair amount of pain.

“You are going to free him?” Hawkins heard Genevieve pipe up from behind. Getting to his feet to address her, he first looked at Granger who turned the corners of his mouth down in a look of indifference.

“What would you have me do?” Hawkins asked his French companion. She calmly walked over and crouched down to take a good look at the soldier who stared back at her.