Lovely War by Julie Berry

Author:Julie Berry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2019-03-05T05:00:00+00:00

HADES

Torchlight—February 11, 1918

AUBREY PELTED THROUGH the snow. His arms windmilled. His feet slipped. He reached the door to Lieutenant Europe’s quarters and pounded.

A voice inside muttered. Let Jim curse him to the skies, but he had to come, now.

The door opened. An electric torch blasted his face.

“Aubrey?” Jim Europe’s voice was thick with sleep. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You gotta come, Jim,” Aubrey said. “It’s Joey.”

“What’s the matter with him?” Lieutenant Europe fumbled in the pocket of his robe for his spectacles. “Shouldn’t you call Captain Fish?”

Aubrey seized Europe’s wrist. “You gotta come, Jim,” he begged. “Please!”

“Is Joey hurt?” Europe demanded. “What’s happened?”

“Shh!”

Europe grabbed his coat. “C’mon. Show me.”

Lieutenant Europe’s torchlight swung wildly across the ice as they ran. Until it found Joey lying in the snow.

“Oh no.”

Europe’s light searched Joey from head to toe. He’d been—maybe—please, God—sick? Drunk? A little roughed up?

But that was blood on the snow.

His head. His face. His bloated, blackened face.

Aubrey fell to his knees. His body jackknifed, and he vomited.

Europe knelt beside Joey. He felt his wrist and then his neck.

“Bastards strangled him.” His voice was deep with grief. “Beat his face in with their rifles. You almost wouldn’t know it’s him.”

Hope.

“Maybe it isn’t,” Aubrey said. “Maybe it’s somebody else!”

“Aubrey. Don’t do this.”

False hope.

“This is my fault,” Aubrey told the night. “This is all my fault.”

“We’ve got to get him out of here,” Europe said. “Clean this up. Leave no trace.”

“My fault,” Aubrey repeated. “I’m the one who did it.”

Jim Europe shone his torch directly at Aubrey’s face. He squinted.

“Are you telling me, son, that you strangled Joey, then clubbed him with your rifle butt?”

Joey. Joey. Knucklehead Joe.

“Are you?”

Aubrey had already forgotten the question.

“If I hadn’t gone out, Joey wouldn’t have . . . It was me they were following. . . .”

The crack of a large leather hand across his cheek jolted him awake.

“Pull yourself together, soldier,” Europe barked. “That’s an order.”

Europe did what he could for Joey. Wiped the blood off his face. Gently closed his gaping lower lip to hide the horribly broken jaw.

“‘Death, where is thy sting?’” Bitter irony laced itself through Jim Europe’s recitation. “‘Grave, where is thy victory?’ Right here. That’s where.”

He waved his torch at Aubrey. “Grab his feet. We’ll get him back to my quarters.” Aubrey nodded dumbly. They’d just been talking. Only just. Messing around like usual. To carry his feet and touch that hardening, chilling thing that used to be Joey Rice? How?

“Look, kid, we’re in danger too, all right? Grab his feet and let’s get outta here.”

Aubrey picked up Joey’s ankles and pinned them under his elbows. Lieutenant Europe hefted up the upper body. They staggered back to Europe’s quarters. Joey Rice’s body drooped like wet laundry.

Lieutenant Europe switched on the light. Fumbling with the weight, he managed to spread a towel over his bed before they laid Joey down upon it.

Aubrey backed away from the bed. “Should I get a doctor, Jim?”

Europe’s always-intense gaze searched Aubrey’s face. “It’s a bit late for that now.

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