The Frost of Springtime by Rachel L. Demeter

Author:Rachel L. Demeter [Rachel L. Demeter]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Adult, Dark, Historical Romance
ISBN: 1934912611
Google: 4IwbnwEACAAJ
Amazon: B00ICXN9N2
Publisher: Black Lyon Publishing
Published: 2014-02-09T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The open field was empty and as silent as a grave. Sparse, tall leafs rustled as they were frantically parted by two men.

Christophe and Aleksender raced through the vast and untamed wilderness, panting, clutching onto their precious chassepot rifles for dear life. Thick clouds of smoke poisoned the air, mingling with heaps of dust and the bitter musk of sweat.

Had they escaped death? Or were they still being pursued?

After several critical moments they stopped to catch their breaths. Their navy coats were a stark contrast against the brittle morning light. But there was nothing frail about either soldier.

Exhausted and drained, they propped their bodies against one of the few trees. The stench of death weighed heavily in the air. Both faces were bruised a vivid purple, a thick haze of dirt obscuring their features. They looked like they’d been to hell and back. Within the lingering silence, they recalled the horrific turn of events of only moments ago.

Had they really witnessed the dismembering of half a dozen comrades? Had they truly defied death?

“Damn them! Damn ‘em all! Our entire platoon—blown to hell!” Christophe glanced above his head, abandoned his lingering adoration for Christ, and scolded heaven with humorless irony. “Now’d be a mighty fine time to shed your mercy!”

Aleksender’s gaze roamed over the field. Paranoia surged through his bones. They were being hunted. There was no doubt of that.

Christophe muttered a slew of profanity and dug a hand into his filthy pocket. Eyes falling shut, he clutched his rosary beads and clung to the faintest ray of hope.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is Jesus, the fruit of thy womb.” The vain prayer passed over Aleksender’s conscience. His attention was lost to a greater, all-consuming despair. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us at the hour of our death.”

Silence hung in the air like a bad omen. Christophe’s eyes flashed open as he muttered, “Amen.”

Aleksender shifted closer to his comrade, sensing imminent danger.

It happened in a flash. Aleksender thrust himself in front of Christophe—bang!—and threw his head back in a roar. A fountain of blood seethed from his shoulder. He instantly lost his breath and collapsed on top of the intended target. Christophe propped up Aleksender’s body, stunned silent—oblivious to the snapping twigs and approaching steps.

“Alek? Alek! Can you hear me?” Christophe rotated with a curse and scanned the dark void. A piercing wail split the air in half, jolting his eyes back to Aleksender. A curved dagger had been plunged into his upper back, blade buried to the hilt. A chilling scream resonated as the metal was swiftly withdrawn, slipping through layers upon layers of flesh, blood, and muscle. Christophe stared forward in mute horror—virtually paralyzed—unable to stir a limb. A demonic chuckle echoed the hollowness. It served as a morbid accompaniment to the sounds of guttural ripping and shallow breaths. Aleksender’s back was impaled once, twice, three times, before Christophe regained his composure.

Aleksender hissed through clenched teeth as the dagger was freed from the bloody pulp of his back.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.