Necrocide (9 page)

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Authors: Jonathan Davison

BOOK: Necrocide
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“Both head-shots. High velocity rounds.
Went straight through their helmets. Whoever took these out were crack shots.” Hawkins said as he studied the bodies on their haunches.

“This is insane.” Beach whispered with a shiver.

“Another in the bag for our boys then.” Granger exclaimed hopefully.

“If there are allied forces here taking out these Krauts, where are they then?” Hawkins replied as he got to his feet rubbing his hands across his tunic.

“I'm starting to think that we are the only living people on Earth.” Beach murmured morbidly.

“I doubt we will be that lucky. Whoever killed all these people are no doubt still around so keep your guard up!” Granger spoke wisely.

Hawkins noticed a glimmer of light from the church window, the building which was now only a hundred yards down the road.

“Perhaps those that fled have taken sanctuary.” Hawkins pointed out the feint yellow glow.

“Good point. Let's have a look.” The red headed corporal pressed on attempting to keep up his bravado despite such sombre scenes at every turn. The lack of street lighting meant that after a few steps, the soldiers could confidently pace down the road and still remain a mere shadow. They could not help feel that the town was deserted anyway.

At the church, Hawkins found the heavy wooden portal to be unlocked as expected and carefully entered under the significant stone archway. The others followed and each flanked the brave Yorkshire man. The dim light from the array of candles still lit all around the holy structure were surprisingly bright to the soldier's eyes and immediately, there seemed to be little sign of movement from within. Remaining silent, Hawkins paced slowly up the centre aisle to the altar whilst the others skirted the bank of wooden seating and checked every dark nook along the way.

“Nothing here.” Hawkins said, for once not bothering to restrain his voice to a whisper.

There was a sudden unexpected noise from behind the altar causing Hawkins to spin around hoisting his weapon and scan his surroundings furiously. The other soldiers were alerted by Hawkins sudden motion and they too readied themselves for action. With Hawkins fingered fluttering over the cold trigger of his SMG and his heart racing, something began to emerge slowly, purposefully from behind the brightly coloured plinth.

CHAPTER 11

A small quivering hand was offered followed by a bare forearm then a head of long, dark straggly hair.

“Slowly.” Hawkins commanded his voice full of menace as his guns sights were trained carefully at what appeared to be a young woman.

“Very slowly...move away from the altar.” Hawkins once again commanded joined by the other guns who were equally nervous. The girl stood upright, her dark hair covering most of her face, she wore a dress of burgundy which was darkened in patches by the stain of blood.

“It's OK Hawkins, it's just a girl.” Granger said lowering his heavy machine gun.

“I don't care if it's Mickey Mouse, don't drop your guard.” Hawkins meant business. George sighed and raised his weapon once more.

“Come on love, we're not going to hurt you.” Granger said with a hint of frustration in his voice. The young woman was clearly in shock, her skin was pale and she looked petrified.

“Ces créations bâtardes tout le monde ont tué.” The woman whispered, her voice warbling with her obvious trepidation.

“Yeah, yeah, don't worry we're here to save the day.” Granger once again relaxed his approach. Hawkins lowered his weapon and neared the shivering specimen who appeared to be a local although he did not understand what she had uttered. Showing her his British forces insignia, he held out his hand to offer her aid down the small number of steps. Refusing to accept the gesture, she crumpled into a heap and buried her head in her hands, convulsing gently. Hawkins sat beside her and cooed heartfelt platitudes whilst Granger snorted with mirth.

“Hawk, you're a tiger, you are.” He jested.

Beach sat on the long wooden pew and rested his weary legs. Granger dropped his machine gun on the floor and began rummaging around in his pack for something to eat. When the woman lifted her head, Hawk could see that she was a pretty little thing in her early twenties. Her petite form and classic good looks were somewhat overshadowed by her matted hair and dirtied skin.

“Do you speak English?” Hawkins asked pulling a bar of mint cake from his pocket and offering it to the girl. She accepted after carefully looking into his eyes, her caution quite evident.

“A little.” She whispered capturing Granger's attention.

“What's your name? My name is John.” Hawkins spoke slowly and simply.

“John.” The girl replied although her pronunciation sounded more akin to 'Jean' in her French accent.

“I am Genevieve.” Hawkins nodded, he was making headway.

“Are you from here?” Hawkins asked, attempting to avoid complex words or mispronouncing the French place names and making a fool of himself. Genevieve nodded in return.

“What happened to you?” He asked with interest.

“What the hell happened to you?” The young woman snapped back with real venom in her voice. It was quickly appraised that her command of English and its colourful colloquialisms was not as poor as first thought.

“Months of hope and then this...” It was clear Genevieve was disappointed in the Allies' rather poor showing. Hawkins felt compelled to defend his comrades who had sacrificed all to try and end the French people's subjugation.

“There was a slaughter; thousands have died including many of our friends...” Hawkins tone was harsh, his anger evident.

“I am sorry for your loss. Many more have died since this morning.” Genevieve added morbidly. Granger butted in.

“Yeah, what's going on then? I know you know.” He said, choosing to word his question poorly. Genevieve got the gist of his request however.

“Hah! You have no idea.” She hissed.

“Just tell us you stupid cow!” Beach suddenly interjected and snarled, it was unexpected and completely out of character. His harsh tone drew puzzled looks from his comrades who saw a young man close to the edge and living on his nerves.

“Hey! Shut your mouth, it's not helping.” Hawkins barked. “You need some sleep; I suggest you find somewhere to get your head down.”

Beach looked sheepish and sloped off without another word. Hawkins glanced at Granger and they shared the surprise of the outburst.

“Sorry about that. He is very upset, as are we that things have not gone...according to plan.” Hawkins spoke softly and with the emotion of the day in his voice. Genevieve wiped her eyes and flicked the hair out of her face. Sniffing away the tears, she physically puffed her chest and looked to pull herself together.

“There have been...a number of developments that could not have been foreseen. I have ties with the resistance and have been waiting for this day for many weeks. You must forgive my...err, harsh words.” Genevieve's tone lightened and Hawkins sat transfixed by the woman with whom he was undeniably attracted to.

“So what happened? We've seen many dead German soldiers...” Hawkins was eager to confirm that other Allied troops had been the cause of their demise.

“Indeed, many have died. When the thunder began this morning, we rejoiced. We expected only salvation...but now, I know that even if you had arrived sooner, it would have made no difference.”

Hawkins looked puzzled and he glanced over to his corporal who although silent was listening intently as he was savaging a piece of bread scavenged from the Germans' table.

“Go on.” Hawkins prompted a full recount of the woman's story.

“This morning, after the bombardment, it was clear that the invasion had failed. The Germans were marching through the streets gloating, drinking, taunting us wickedly...it should not have been this way. Although we lived in fear of the Germans, we had grown to live our lives around them, we were confident that when the time came, they could be easily overpowered. That is until yesterday...”

Hawkins was fascinated at the woman's command of his language, she was quite a beauty and even though her tale was so impactive, he could not help his eyes wandering, surveying the unblemished skin of her bare calves and her dainty feet.

“So what changed?” Hawkins interrupted, despite the fact that Genevieve was about to explain.

“Everything. Trucks, filled with soldiers appeared. They came with high ranking SS officers, Gestapo, people who did not belong in a small town such as this. The Resistance attempted to pass this information to the British but were arrested before they had a chance to communicate this information. It was clear that the Germans were expecting the Allied assault. I am not sure if they knew that Normandy was to be the location or if they were just in expectation of an attack...it was enough to repel all hope.”

“So someone spilled their guts about the operation.” Granger growled.

“I do not know. You are however not in possession of all the facts.” Genevieve clearly had more to say.

“Even with all the reinforcements, there should have been no chance of victory for the Germans. Their number was few against the might of the Allies. The reinforcements were...no ordinary soldiers.”

“Elite troops?” Hawkins asked, still wondering how a few truck-loads of soldiers could have annihilated so many.

“Forget what you know of elite soldiers, Special Forces...these bastards were barely human. They marched with a purpose, their faces grey and their eyes black. We saw them arrive at the offices here in Arromanches, the offices where the Germans govern under the rule of Klaus Rotenburg, a pig of a man who I have despised for so long. It seemed that they were dispersing along the coastline in readiness for your arrival.”

“Are you saying that a few hundred soldiers managed to wipe out the Allied forces before they even hit the beachhead? I'm telling you now, there were...” Granger began to rant and was quickly shut up by the feisty young French woman.

“Non. That is not what I said. In combination with the existing troops, they easily repelled the soldiers. The fighting began last night when we heard the aircraft over head and the flak cannons. We heard that thousands of Allies had parachuted in behind German defences and had been slaughtered in doing so. The new soldiers were invincible; they crushed their enemy with ease. They fought without fear, they shot with incredible accuracy, this is what I am told anyway.”

“Fairy stories...propaganda, I’ll bet.” Granger said, turning his nose up at the talk of 'invincible' soldiers.

“Idiot. How you have survived this long is a surprise to me.” Genevieve barked at any suggestion she was not telling the truth. Indeed, to Hawkins she sounded very convincing.

“So if the Allied assault failed, why have we found so many dead Germans?” Hawkins asked the obvious question.

“Yes, this is the crucial part, no?” Genevieve took a moment to pause as if reliving the moments of her past in her head.

“I was in the square; I work as a...secretary in the office of the council. Little work was being done; we were all inconsolable. We were getting news of the Allies failure. The Germans celebrated outside in the streets as the local people could only stand and watch. It was...heartbreaking. There were suddenly gunshots and great confusion. We all hid ourselves hardly daring to watch. I looked out on to the street from the little window high above in the attic. I could not believe my eyes when I see Germans running around in great panic shooting at each other! The confusion was so great, bullets were flying everywhere and one broke through my window!”

Genevieve began to get emotional and she once again fought back tears.

“Anyway, the attack seemed to end when the guns fell silent and it was then that I saw the reinforcement soldiers out in the street, walking slowly amongst the bodies of their comrades, shooting each of them in the head with such callousness...even though the wounded pleaded for mercy, they were given none.”

“That explains the Krauts at the beach.  Executed whilst drinking to our bad health.” Granger added coarsely.

“That is not all of it.” Genevieve continued. Hawkins could barely believe the story thus far; little did he know it would get even more unlikely. Genevieve trembled as she told her tale.

“That is when I saw Klaus Rotenburg, a man I have hated for years emerged from his office. He was armed with a machine gun. He had been hiding. I thought I had witnessed a great many things in my life, some incredible, many horrifying, but I had yet to see anything like the sights of this morning. Mr Rotenburg fired his weapon...as close to the soldiers as I am to you. He fired with a steady aim and used the whole magazine. He cut two soldiers down. Thinking his job done, he walked away until the soldiers...began to move once again! Their bodies came back to life and in a moment, they had stood upright once more. Needless to say, their 'death' was soon avenged. Rotenburg was sprayed with a hail of bullets and he fell. I can only imagine his last thoughts being that of utter astonishment.”

“Speaking of astonishment. What a load of shit.” Granger said pessimistically as Hawkins noted Beach stood quietly in the corner listening intently. He was clearly more convinced.

“Shit?” Genevieve said her rage building.

“No mate, listen to her. There is some very weird stuff going on here and this is about the most credible source you're going to find.” Hawkins defended the girl vigorously.

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