Not Without My Sister: A compelling and heartbreaking WW2 historical novel by Marion Kummerow

Author:Marion Kummerow [Kummerow, Marion]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781800192300
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2021-03-25T00:00:00+00:00

20

Rachel’s throat was hurting worse than usual. Her hair had grown some more, and—if the clumps that were falling out were anything to go by—its orange hue was getting stronger. She coughed constantly and her eyes were stinging like hell. There was nothing she could do about it but take a couple of shallow breaths, relieved when the tickle in her throat subsided slightly.

“Are you all right?” Linda, who was working next to her, whispered.

“Is anyone working in here fine?” Rachel asked. The sentence was followed by another coughing fit. She wished for a bit of water to swallow down the irritation, but food and drink was forbidden during work.

Talking was forbidden, too, but Rachel knew that Linda was worried about her insistent coughing because she kept casting side glances at her whenever she could. As soon as the foreman was out of earshot, she hissed, “You should ask to go to the infirmary.”

“As if that would help.” The infirmary wasn’t actually a place for healing, but more of an antechamber of death. The only medicine given at the infirmary was rest: the women who were considered unable to work would be allowed to sleep all day—with reduced rations, of course. Rachel had no wish to go anywhere near the infirmary, since most people who went in didn’t come out again.

“Your cough is getting worse,” Linda protested.

“It’s just a cold.” Despite the stinging pain that radiated from her lungs into her entire body with every violent coughing fit, Rachel denied the possibility that this could be something more serious.

After another hour of painful attacks that made it increasingly difficult to keep her fingers still or to concentrate on filling the bullet shells with explosives, she was at the point where she pondered whether to ask the foreman if she might be allowed to go to the latrine, just to inhale some fresh air. Inside the factory the air seemed to become thicker and dustier by the minute, until she could barely breathe.

“Hang on a few more minutes and we have lunch break,” Linda whispered, as if she’d read Rachel’s thoughts. Lunch break was twenty minutes exactly, and the meal consisted of a cup of Ersatzkaffee. On lucky days the women additionally received a slice of bread. It was nothing to look forward to, but today the thought of flopping onto the ground and doing nothing seemed like paradise.

Determined to make it through to the break Rachel tried to suppress another coughing fit, but it surfaced with a vengeance shaking her entire body. Just as she recovered and began once more to stuff the explosives into a shell, a brilliant light flashed several yards away, followed by a sound like rushing wind through a narrow space as the brightness intensified and seemed to move on her like a huge open-mouthed fire-spitting dragon. Before Rachel could process what was happening, she was engulfed in a torrent of pain and heat. Ugly flames danced in front of her, licking at her body with frenzied haste.

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