War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 237

Chapter 15

R

ichard took the bicycle from her hands and started pedaling as soon as she’d climbed back atop the crossbar. He felt slightly better after some food and rest, but his muscles were sore, and his ribs hurt. Nevertheless, he was determined to hold up until they reached the ferry.

The road was narrow and winding, and in better times he would have called it picturesque. Today, though, he had no time to watch what remained of the beautiful landscape, because he had to keep his eyes peeled on the road, furrowed by deep creases caused by heavy Panzers. He’d seen before how German and Russian tanks ploughed through the countryside, leaving a mess of dirt and gravel behind.

The burning sensation in his legs increased with every move and he felt his muscles seize up. But he couldn’t stop pedaling. First, they had to reach the ferry point and then they’d take it from there. So, he pushed through his agony, his exhaustion and the trembling of his legs, until the sweat ran in rivulets down his back.

With the sun high on the horizon, heat blazed down his back and he felt his tongue stuck against his palate. Just a little bit more…

“Richard, stop,” Katrina said.

“I’m fine.”

“At least drink some water,” she answered with a soft voice.

He wanted to protest and say if he stopped now he might not be able to get his legs working again anytime soon. The road along the river was out in the open, with no shielding trees nearby. It was too exposed to stay and rest. They had to keep moving.

“Richard. Please stop,” Katrina asked once more.

Richard groaned but stopped pedaling and brought the bicycle to a stop.

“Are you sick?” he asked when she gingerly climbed down.

“No, but you can’t keep going this way.” She put down the backpack and reached for the water bottle inside.

As soon as his feet hit the ground, he felt the earth swaying, much like a sailor did after weeks at sea. Dizziness took hold of him and he had to grab Katrina’s shoulder to steady himself. Seeing the concern in her eyes, he said, “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

The truth was he’d barely slept in two nights, and after pedaling for endless hours he could collapse and fall asleep before his body hit the ground.

“Let me pedal for a while,” Katrina said.

“No, I’m fine.” As much as he yearned for a break, he couldn’t let her do the heavy lifting. With her petite stature, her feet would barely reach the pedals. Moving the two of them along on the old rusty thing was hard for a big man like him, let alone for someone half his size.

“You’re not fine. Your face is white as a corpse, save for the red spots on your cheeks. You’re about to pass out, if you don’t stop. Trade me positions. Just for a little while. Please.”

Seeing that she wasn’t about to budge, he groaned and said, “Alright. You pedal.”

She climbed on the saddle, her feet barely touching the pedals. But when he positioned himself on the crossbar, his big body overflowed the narrow space and she couldn’t look around him. Neither could she properly move her legs.

“It doesn’t work, so let me,” he said, wondering how she’d ridden perched on the bar so many hours without complaining.

They stopped and switched positions again.

“Wait, I have an idea.” She sat astride the crossbar and pushed her buttocks as far back as the space allowed. Then she put her feet on the pedals and said, “Now it works. Keep your legs out of reach and hold on tight.”

He found a position to let his legs hang without scuffing the ground and put his arms around her waist for better balance. The monotonous ride and the blazing afternoon sun dulled his senses and he dozed off, tightening his grip around her waist as his body slumped against hers.

Several times he jerked awake when the bicycle rumbled through a pothole. But he simply couldn’t force his eyes to stay open.

“Ouch!” He cried out as his bruised back hit the gravel with a painful thud. He looked around with bleary eyes and it took a few moments until he realized they’d both crashed to the ground, the bicycle coming to lie atop of them. “What happened?” He disentangled his sore limbs from the bicycle and then waited for Katrina to do the same, before he shoved it away and picked himself up off the hard ground.

“You fell asleep and tipped sideways, and I couldn’t keep us upright.” Katrina looked concerned. “Are you hurt?”

“I guess not…” He tried a crooked grin. “It doesn’t feel much different now than before the fall. What about you?”

As always, she saw right through his attempts to put on a brave face. “I’m fine. A scratch on my shin and probably a bruise forming on my hip. But it’s not me I’m worried about.”

“Really, I’m fine.” It was a lie and he had to bite his tongue to not scream with pain.

“You’re such a bad liar.” She pressed a kiss on his lips, dusted herself off and hauled the bicycle upright, struggling with the heavy weight.

Richard simply stood there, watching her efforts. He knew he should walk over and help her, but he just didn’t have an ounce of strength left. Finally he managed to say, “I’m sorry. You might be right; I’m not in my best condition.”

She turned around and giggled at him. “Not your best condition? The only time I’ve seen you worse is when I found you with the partisans, delirious with fever.”

Shame spread across his body.

He

was the reason she’d ventured on this grueling trek. The last thing she needed was having him knocked out. It was only early evening and they would have daylight for another five hours at least. But despite that, it didn’t make sense to continue.

“We should find a place to sleep and ride the rest of the way to the ferry in the morning,” he said.

“Good idea. See that patch of trees over there?” She pointed into the distance and he nodded. “You sit here and wait while I refill the water bottle and then we’ll push the bicycle to the trees.”

He nodded again, stretching out on the grass while she ventured toward the riverbank for water. After a while he heard the clip-clopping of horses’ hooves in the distance and he jerked upright, scanning the road. He saw nothing. But after several moments he heard it again, fragments of voices, carried by the wind. Probably another caravan of German refugees seeking to cross the Oder. But he thought it prudent to keep hidden until they knew whether the travelers were friend or foe.

Just when he set out in search for Katrina, she returned from the riverbank and he called out to her, “Quick, there’s people coming.”

For a moment, she looked surprised, but then hurried toward him, question marks in her eyes.

“I heard scraps of voices and clip-clopping of horses’ hooves. We don’t know who they are.” Opportunists abounded. More than once they had observed groups of people taking advantage of others. With only the two of them they didn’t stand a chance against a bigger group of looters wanting to rob them of their meager possessions. The best option was to get out of trouble’s way.

Richard took the bicycle and pushed the heavy thing across the rough meadow toward the group of trees in the distance. Within minutes drops of sweat ran down his face and he cursed beneath his breath, but increased his efforts when the noise became louder.

When he turned to look at the road, there was nobody in sight. But the strangers would soon be visible, once they passed the bend about a mile further upstream.

“They’re probably looking for the ferry as well,” Katrina said, walking beside him, carrying the heavy rucksack.

“Perhaps.”

Approximately fifteen minutes later, they reached the trees, and Richard dropped the bicycle into the grass, then collapsed against one of the trunks. Just as Katrina settled beside him, they saw the first of the horse-drawn carriages come around the bend.

“Expellees,” Katrina said.

“Still, let’s hide until they’re gone.”

They settled in the shadow with their backs to the road and Katrina unpacked the rucksack, distributing a slice of bread and ham to each of them.

“Eat and then sleep,” she said, biting into her ration.

“And you?”

“Once the caravan is out of sight I’ll refill our water and look out for plants to supplement our food.” She smiled at him and he put his arm around her shoulders and pressed her against him. “What would I do without you, sweet woman?”

Without her, he’d probably be six feet under by now. Tortured to death. A shudder racked his body and he pressed her harder against him, blowing a kiss on her hair. “Thank you for saving my life – again.”

“You’re welcome. Now sleep.”

He dropped momentarily into an exhausted sleep, stretched out on the comparatively soft grass.