Okay, I'm just putting this up out of bordem. Though, thank you reviewers for the comments! They actually kinda helped. And, yes, I meant to put the year 1948... Though I changed it to 1946, since I thought it would be better. It's supposed to take place a little while after the war ended... Okay, enjoy this chapter now!
As both Judah and I exited the forest into the dull light of the full moon behind the overcast clouds, I crouched low, pulling Judah with me, behind a rusted trash barrel. Judah and I both watched as a group of black uniformed and armed soldiers marched down the dark cobble stoned street of the marketplace that was once crowded with hundreds of Jews and Germans.
Judah made a tiny squeak of terror as the soldiers rhythmically marched past as. I quickly covered his mouth with my hand, wide eyed, knowing that the soldiers had heard that tiniest noise.
The last soldier in line, dark and terrifying, turned around and faced the thick line of trash cans, his eyes flashing with a horrible yellow glow which reflected the beam cast by the street lights. He departed from his herd of black cloaked team members and slowly began walking over to the line of trash cans that Judah and I were hiding behind, gun raised for instant fire.
As the soldier approached the ten feet that stood between us and our oncoming death, we ducked lower behind the cover of the shadows of the trash cans, praying he wouldn't see us. But before he even got a chance to step closer, he turned, his back towards us, at the sound of a noise at the far side of the street. I held my breath, relieved to see him slink over to the other side of the street, away from us. He was far from hearing range so I finally let my uneven breath rattle out.
I took my hand off of Judah mouth and whispered angrily, "Don't you dare ever make any more sudden sounds while SS troops are near. You got that?"
Judah nodded, tears brimming his wide crystal eyes. He didn't understand that the SS would kill someone on the spot if they found them hiding from them.
I hugged Judah tightly, thanking God that we were still alive.
As soon as all of the SS soldiers were clearly out of sight, out of hearing range, I heard a noise come from the line of rusted trash barrels next to ours.
"Psst! Psssst! Hey!" the voice whispered from the shadows. A blood streaked hand beckoned us closer.
I glanced at Judah and he just shrugged saying, "Maybe they'll help us. . ."
We quickly and quietly crawled across the small stretch of empty sidewalk, visible to anyone who walked by. Out of safety. But we reached the dark shadows of the other line of trash barrels in less than a minute, safe from any harm. If there was anyone on the deserted street. Everyone had either run away, or are too afraid to escape the safety of their homes.
As Judah and I settled down next to the person who beckoned to us, I turned to look at them, horrified by what I saw. The boy, who was probably about sixteen, was pretty close to being a walking skeleton with sewn on severely blood stained skin. His hair was matted with caked on dried, cracked blood, and his clothes were those of a prisoner who once worked in a concentration camp. He probably just got released from a nearby concentration camp by the Americans not too long ago. And his nails: barely anything left of them. Just little stubs of flexible nail ingrown into each finger and thumb. But besides all of the negatives, the thing that held my attention, made me wonder how he could have lived through all of this torment, were his eyes. They were the color of a foggy day with stripes of green fields placed between the misty wedges. They held every tick of happiness someone could ever dream of. A tortured body with a happy heart.
"I'm sure glad that soldier didn't catch you," he said, his eyes gleaming with a hidden smile, "Who knew he would fall for the old 'toss a rock to make noise on the other side of the street' thing."
"You did that?" I asked, amazed that he even had enough courage to do something like that, with the SS soldier only, about, five feet away from him.
"I sure did," he answered, letting out a soft sigh, "If not, you wouldn't be here right now, would you?"
I nodded and said, "Guess not. . ."
Then, Judah spoke up, asking a very rude question: "How did you get all covered in blood?"
"Judah!" I whispered roughly, "Don't be so ---"
"No, it's okay," the boy said, holding up a dark, scratched hand, "I'll have to tell someone sometime. But not here."
"Where then?" Judah and I said, confusion spread across both of our faces.
"Follow me. . ." the boy said, waving his hand, signaling us to follow.
I will seriously not put any more chapters up until I get THREE REVIEWS! MINIMUM!