Reckoning 001: The Anointed Angel Comes by Jeffrey Pierce

Author:Jeffrey Pierce [Pierce, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction, WWI, Horror
ISBN: 9781684334193
Google: LH7UDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2020-03-05T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

—

DURANT & COMPANY

Jonah Unger stumbled along, surrounded by companions, but completely alone. He spoke Polish and German fluently, but the soft and melodic French, and the simple and strange English, were alien to him. He stayed close to Wolfgang Strathmann, whose English was apparently excellent, so that he would not be lost if communication was required, but they had not spoken to each other much before the world fell to pieces last night, and they were not exactly chewing the fat now.

The American, James Cox, was behind Unger, and he seemed to think that the best way to communicate was to flash a broad smile whenever they made eye contact, which Unger found odd, but he supposed it could be worse. The younger black man with the scar across his face still looked at him as if he wanted to kill him and let the big black African cut off his head, so when James Cox smiled at him, Jonah accepted it, half-heartedly smiling back.

Jonah was settled in for the march. He had spent three years pounding the cobblestones and dirt roads of Germany, Belgium and France on the ugly, mind-and-body-turned-to-mush route marches in full battle-kit that travelled them from the front lines to the rear, and back again. So as tortuous as this march was, it was also old hat. The trick was to shut down the mind and carry your weight slightly forward. That way, your feet automatically reached ahead to catch you from falling. Each step became instinctive self-preservation instead of a feat of mental discipline and iron will.

Jonah felt movement to his right. He glanced up and saw that James had come even with him.

James flashed his smile at Jonah. “How’re you hanging in?”

Jonah shrugged. “Ich spreche kein English.”

James smiled. “No English. I figured.” James reached into his pocket and pulled out a half-empty pack of Wrigley’s Spearmint Gum. He offered a stick to Unger. “It’s gum. Chewing gum? You chew it.” James broadly mimed how best to do that.

Chewing gum was not new to Jonah Unger. He accepted the stick of gum, unwrapped it, and began to chew. It was pretty delicious.

“That’s right. You got the hang of it. Good, yeah?”

Jonah smiled back at him. “Ja. Gut.”

James grinned. “‘Yah. Goot.’ That means, ‘Yep, good’, right?”

Jonah nodded, and the two boys walked on quietly for a time.

James caught his attention with a little wave. “I’m James, by the way.” He pointed to himself. “James.”

Jonah pointed to himself. “Jonah.”

“Jonah? Like the fellow who got swallowed by the whale?”

The flurry of English after ‘Jonah?’ was a mish-mash of sounds, but Jonah smiled anyway. It seemed that the smiling American had the gist of it.

“Well, Jonah-and-the-Whale, nice to meet you, even circumstances as they are.”

Jonah saw a cloud pass over James’s face. When the American spoke again, there was a sober certainty to it. “I think I heard that lady say this morning that this is all just a nightmare.

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