War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 199

Chapter 13: Peter

H

e forced himself to wait several minutes before leaving his hiding place. On the way back he passed the hospital barracks and decided to pay Stan another visit. Perhaps to make sure his brother was alright, or to distract himself from worrying about Anna and her plan to get him out of here.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to escape, but he loathed endangering her by doing so. Since she hadn’t elaborated, he had no idea what kind of crazy plan she’d cooked up.

Stan was awake when Peter slipped into the room, and by the glare in his eyes Peter could tell that he was about to receive a dressing down from his younger brother.

“The nurse. Who is she?” Stan whispered angrily.

Peter swallowed and sat on the bunk. “Her name is Anna and I met her in Berlin while working for the professor.” Stan already knew that Peter had been placed by the British into the position of Professor Scherer’s driver. It had been an invaluable source of information, because the professor socialized with the who’s who of the Nazis and after a few drinks the men often said things they usually wouldn’t.

“Is she your mistress?” Stan glared at his brother, demanding an explanation.

Peter shook his head at the vehemence in his brother’s voice. “Don’t you ever talk about her like that again. I love her.”

“You love her? A German!” Stan sneered. “How could you?”

Peter balled his hands into fists. Stan was his brother, and he was gravely sick, but that didn’t give him the right to question Peter’s feelings. “She’s my wife and you’d better respect her.”

Peter watched his brother’s eyes flare up with rage and prepared himself for one of Stan’s famous tirades, but he only clenched his jaw several times before his head fell back on the bunk. “You married a….a…German! You must be nuts,” Stan whispered furiously, his energy waning.

“So how is this different from our sister Katrina falling in love with a German soldier?” Peter couldn’t help but remark pointedly.

“Believe me, I did my best to keep them apart,” Stan said, his breath coming in huffs and his eyelids drooping. “At least Richard helped to rescue your son from the ghetto.”

“See, Anna is doing the same. She told me she’s strategizing to get me out of here.” The moment the words left his mouth, Peter realized how insensible they sounded.

Stan’s eyes widened and he shoved himself up the side of the bed, but his struggles and his weakness were not a good combination and he fell forward before Peter could grab him. Stan collapsed on the floor next to the bed, a scream of pain tearing from his lips.

“Stan!” Peter took his brother by the shoulders and pulled him up. He kept tugging until Stan was leaning over the bed once more. “What were you thinking?”

“Nothing. I’m not thinking. Ever.” Stan turned his head and gave Peter a bleak stare. “My mind is a black hole ever since Jarek died. We’ve been together every single day of our lives and now he’s gone.” Stan’s voice broke and his body slumped onto the bed like a sack of flour. Peter knew that Jarek and Stan had shared a bond that only other twins could dream of understanding.

“I wish I had died before you found me. At least I wouldn’t be lonely anymore,” Stan sobbed.

Peter shook his head. “Don’t say that,“ he whispered in his brother’s ear. “Don’t ever say that.”

“Why not?” Stan asked, levering himself back up onto the bed, wincing with each movement. “It’s the truth. When you leave, there will be no one left with me…” Stan’s voice trailed off and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Concerned, Peter scanned the prone body lying on the bed, cursing when he saw the telltale red stain spreading out beneath his thighs. He rushed outside and called for help. Guilt swamped him when one of the prisoners who acted as doctor entered the barracks.

“He’s losing too much blood,” the man announced, even as he inspected the wound that had torn open from the fall.

“Stitch him up. Do something,” Peter urged him.

“I’m afraid he’ll die. The only option would be giving him a blood transfusion, but we don’t have the means here.” The older Pole gave Peter a compassionate glance. “There’s really nothing I can do.”

Peter pounded his fist against the wall, not willing to give up. He’d seen one of those strange transfusion devices before. It was a T-shaped syringe with a rubber hose attached to it on both sides. Obviously they didn’t have one in the camp. That kind of modern medical equipment was reserved for the Germans.

His mind went into a frenzy.

Anna

. What if she had one in her medical suitcase? She would help him. He had to find her. For a moment he hesitated and pondered the consequences. If he ran into Professor Scherer...

”Would you ask the nurse who’s here to help us?” he asked the doctor. “She might have a transfusion syringe.”

The older man gave him a confused stare, ”What makes you think the Nazi nurse will help a Polish prisoner?

Peter cringed at the contemptuous tone, but kept an expressionless face. ”She came here for vaccinations...I believe she has a good heart.“

”A Nazi and a good heart? You should hear yourself talking this nonsense. Even if she has a transfusion syringe, who will donate the blood?“

“Me,“ Peter said, squaring his shoulders. He‘d do anything to save his younger brother.

“We‘d have to run tests on your blood type and his, otherwise the danger is too great, and...“

Before the man could voice more objections, Peter interrupted him, ”Please. This man is my brother. We share the same blood type. You have to save him.”

The doctor raised his brows and then nodded. “Alright. I will ask the nurse. You stay and put pressure on his wound.“ With these words the doctor took off for the commandant’s office and left a very worried Peter behind.

“You’re not going to die on me, Stan,“ he said, but his brother had faded into unconsciousness and couldn’t hear him.