Sky Knights (5 page)

"How did you deal with this? Not knowing?" Dounia asked Ira, squeezing her hand hard.

They never talked about this, about Ira's older brother Pavel who had been killed in action early on in the war. Back when the Treaty of Non-Aggression was supposed to keep him safe, when the Germans had broken their promise and invaded their homeland.

"It was different," Ira whispered back. "I knew that he hadn't survived, even while no one could confirm his death. Even if he survived the initial attack, our own army burned everything to the ground behind them. He would have died long before he could have found his way back to our lines."

Ira didn't blame their own forces for what they had done, because it was what had to happen to hinder the advance of the enemy. She blamed the Germans. They were the enemy, the ones that had promised not to attack them, and who had gone back against their pact. What kind of deal was it, when one made a promise with those who had no honour?

"My Pasha had no chance at all," Ira finished, swallowing hard.

They stepped up to the list together, and Ira began reading the list of survivors. It was in no particular order, and Ira assumed that it had been written up as people came in, all in a jumble of confusion. Ira didn't know whether to have hope or cry in frustration while she searched the names. If it had been in alphabetical order, they would have known immediately, or if it had least been sorted by sex or section.

But no, Ira had to read every single name to try and find Tanya's. Ira hated the feeling of hope she got whenever she saw the word "Tsareva" or "Tatiana" anywhere on the list. But the names didn't coincide on her first run through of the list.

Her stomach dropped as she returned to the top, looking again. She must have missed it. She had to have missed it. She was frantically running the tip of her finger down the list, each name so large in her head as she skimmed over it that it was driving her mad.

Eventually, Dounia grabbed her elbow and shook her head, pulling them over to the other list, the list that they dreaded to find Tanya on.

The rest of the aviators wilted behind them as they realized what had happened. They crowded to the list behind them, voices subdued. Even those who found who they were looking for didn't exclaim in excitement as they usually would have.

"If I see her name on this list, it's all over."

"The runner said there could be stragglers," Ira said.

"That's a very slim chance and a false hope if there ever was one," Dounia said.

They looked, and it seemed like cruel fate that they both found it almost immediately, the name jumping off the page at them.

Lieutenant Tatiana Ivanovna Tsareva, Missing in Action, presumed dead.

Dounia held onto Ira's hand tightly, and Meow let out an anguished howl. It was the only sound to be heard for miles, as the rest of the 4
th
Air Army silently mourned the loss of their fallen comrades.

Dounia lay on her stomach on her cot, unmoving and silent except for her even breathing. It was the middle of the afternoon, but she couldn't bring herself to move. She listened to her own heartbeat and closed her eyes against the world. Breathing seemed like too much effort and Dounia wondered if she should just stop.

There was a rustle of movement as Ira poked her head into their quarters behind her, checking in on her. Ira hovered, uncertain whether or not disturbing Dounia would do any good in her current state.

"Have you eaten?" Ira finally asked.

Dounia sighed and didn't reply. She hadn't eaten anything all day, now that she bothered to think about it. Getting up, getting dressed and going all the way to the mess was beyond her capabilities at the moment.

Her stomach was numb. Sometime in the past several hours, it had ceased to bother her with demands for sustenance and she could ignore it.

"Come on, get up," Ira said, coming to stand near her head.

Ira poked and prodded at her until she finally groaned and started shifting herself into a sitting position, taking the path of least resistance. Her entire body felt heavy, and it took all of Dounia's effort just to get herself upright. She looked at Ira dully, noting her worried expression and dismissing it.

"Come on, don't make me do it for you," Ira said, finding a clean uniform and presenting it to Dounia in a neat pile.

Slowly, and with effort, Dounia pulled the shirt she'd slept in over her head and dragged the new one on, lingering over the buttons at the collar. Ira waited patiently for her to finish and then put Dounia's boots down in front of her.

While she dressed, Meow came in and jumped up on the bed to watch her anxiously, sitting beside her and curling and re-curling his tail around himself.

She could protest. She used to be good at protesting. She couldn't remember how to do it right now, not without giving away how much she really didn't care about anything at the moment.

She followed them to the mess, and her head spun for a moment. Ira steadied her against her light-headedness and sat her down at one of the tables. Meow stood guard while Ira went to get them something to eat.

There were other aviators around her, talking quietly. She could feel their gazes pricking at her, and although they didn't approach, she knew they remained curious.

"How long has it been?"

"Two weeks."

"She doesn't look like she's doing that great."

"Would you?"

Dounia stopped listening. She already knew what had happened; she didn't need to hear it rehashed over and over again. She did that enough in her own head.

A heavy clunk as Ira set down two sets of food and sat down across from her. Dounia looked at the plate of indiscernible mush in front of her unenthusiastically. She gave it a half-hearted poke with her spoon and sighed.

"Come on, love, eat up. We have a mission tonight."

Dounia raised her head and obediently took a bite, then another. If they were flying tonight, she needed the energy. Bombing the Nazis was the only thing she seemed to have any motivation for anymore.

Dounia readied herself in silence, pulling on her heavy bomber jacket over her uniform and sliding her hands firmly and deliberately into her gloves. She had never really appreciated what it meant to fight for her country until she had failed. She could not fail again.

Ira and Meow were talking quietly outside the tent, perhaps thinking in her current state, Dounia wouldn't bother with listening in on them.

"Are you sure she's okay to fly?"

"She has to be," Ira responded, steel in her tone. "We are still the ones that guard our country and we cannot afford to be weak."

At least Ira understood what she was going through. Dounia hadn't met Ira yet when Ira's brother Pavel had been killed, but she did know that his death was her reason for joining.

It was a clear night, and the cloud cover was minimal. German radar had a hard time picking up their wood and canvas
kukuruznik
, but backlit by the moon, they would be silhouetted against the night sky. Dounia knew that she should be worried about this, but couldn't bring herself to care. She couldn't do anything about the weather anyway, and their side's only weather witch was with a different army.

"We'll be flying low tonight," Ira noted as they all clambered aboard the plane.

"Great," Meow said. "I love being able to see the ground going by underneath me to remind me I'm mortal."

"Shhh," Ira said, picking him up in her arms. "You'll be fine."

As instructed, Dounia flew low over the treetops to avoid being seen. They would have to rise higher once they got nearer to the front lines so that the bomb blasts wouldn't destroy them.

"Messerschmitts!" Meow screamed.

"What?" Dounia strained her ears. "I can't hear them."

"Why have they launched planes?" Ira asked, scanning the sky ahead of them.

"They must realize that on such a clear night they'll be able to see us more easily," Dounia said, and then, she could hear the low thrum of their engines.

"Our planes don't have guns," Ira said grimly.

"I have a pistol."

"Because that's going to do any good in a moving aircraft," Meow said sarcastically, ears flattening.

"We're going in first, so gain some altitude, will you?" Ira commanded sharply.

"The German pilots will see us," Dounia hissed in return.

"We're going to have to risk it."

Dounia pulled up slightly, but not as far as Ira wanted her to. The Messerschmitt's stalling speed only worked in their favour in close-quarter dog fighting. Ira told her the coordinates tersely, but didn't order her to rise any higher.

"Are they waiting for us?" Meow asked, green eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"You know, I think they might be," Ira said in a low voice. "I don't like this."

The enemy planes appeared ahead of them, and anticipation tightened in Dounia's stomach as she got ready for some intense manoeuvring. Ira snapped out their closing distance, and Dounia dared to bring them up and into the line of sight of their enemies.

Suddenly, the spotlights came up, highlighting all their planes and exposing them to enemy fire.

Dounia blinked hard against the abrupt glare, and then jerked her controls automatically at the staccato firing of the machine guns. The Germans had spotted them and were coming in fast and hard. Dounia zigzagged across the sky, trying to shake the spotlight following her.

"Fifty meters and closing," Ira said urgently. "Dounia, we don't have enough altitude. We'll have to circle back around."

Circling back around would expose them to more enemy fire. Dounia clenched her teeth hard and swooped in, aligning their aircraft with the target below.

"Dounia!" Ira screamed and Meow yowled in unison.

They weren't high enough, and the Messerschmitts were swinging back around. They were lit up from below by the spotlights, and puffs of smoke burst all around as the anti-aircraft guns fired away at them.

Heart pounding, Dounia hit the release button for the bombs they carried and they dropped away. A moment later, shrapnel ripped through the wings of their plane as the anti-aircraft guns found their mark. The roar of engines ahead of them intensified and the Messerschmitts came back around, firing in point blank range, doing as much damage as possible to their forces.

More bullets tore through their craft. The sound of tearing wood and canvas was extremely loud in her ears.

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the plane, the concussive blast throwing them violently off-course. The plane shuddered violently, and the frame, already weakened by the machine gun fire, started breaking apart in midair.

Ira was screaming, and they were descending far too rapidly. The trees rushed up at them and Dounia tried futilely to pull up. The aircraft was unresponsive beneath her hands and dipped uncontrollably towards the forest below.

"We're going to crash!" Meow yelled.

There was no time to tell him about the obviousness of this statement, because within moments they crashed into the tops of the trees. The wings crunched dreadfully as they hit the resistance of the branches around them. For a second, the branches were breaking with a high-pitched snapping noise, but then the plane shuddered again and groaned painfully, right before the wings tore straight off.

All the spells that were holding the plane together shattered all at once. The last glimpse Dounia got of Ira was of her clutching Meow tight to her chest and bracing herself against her control panel. Then, something flew at her sideways and struck her across the forehead.

When Dounia next opened her eyes, the plane had stopped moving, and something warm and sticky dripped into her eyes. Dounia wiped at it with her arm, and her sleeve came away dark with blood. She probed at the wound and winced as she found the gash across her forehead. A branch must have hit her after the shield spell around the cockpit failed.

She looked around. Their plane was wedged tight in the trees. Their descent had been halted by the thickness of the branches holding them. The body of their plane was still intact, if barely. She twisted in her seat to look behind her.

"Ira," she said urgently, trying to move around the crumpled sections of the plane. "Ira, are you there?"

A groan answered her, and she struggled out of her cockpit. Ira and Meow remained in their cockpit, and Ira was moving sluggishly.

"Are you okay?" Dounia asked desperately.

"I can't move my arm," Ira said groggily as she freed Meow from the cage of her arms and felt around for the edge of the cockpit.

Ira heaved herself up by one arm, holding the other awkwardly against her body. Dounia reached in to help her out, and together they leaned over the side of the plane and looked down.

"The ground has to be twenty feet down," Dounia said.

"Good thing there's branches then," Ira responded.

"How can you climb with only one arm?" Dounia demanded, realizing their predicament and starting to panic.

"I'll have to. We are behind the German lines, and soon they will send out a party to find us," Ira said. "We cannot be here when they arrive."

"Behind... we're behind the lines?" Dounia asked, freezing with fear.

"Yes. You were not keeping track, but I was. We're definitely behind the lines, and we're only about ten kilometers away from their nearest camp."

"Not good odds," Dounia said bleakly.

"But they are not quite impossible odds, so let's go. First, we have to get out of this tree!"

Dounia went first, climbing below Ira in the hope that if she fell, at least Dounia could try to catch her. Meow rode down on her shoulders in wide-eyed silence, having not said a single word since the crash. Ira's foot slipped once while they were climbing down, and she aborted a cry of pain.

"Are you okay?" Dounia asked.

"My arm," Ira said. "I'll have to see when we get down, but I don't think it's good."

They all made it down, surprisingly, and Dounia watched anxiously as Ira tried to move her arm, noting that it was the same one she'd been shot in previously. She was sure it had healed since then. Ira whimpered and immediately stopped trying to move it.