The Angry Hills - Leon Uris [40]
When he was no longer able to carry her, he dragged her limp body—one hour—two hours—three...
Then he fell to the earth, too exhausted to move. He fell beside her and she lay against him sobbing weakly.
The sky opened and a torrent of rain lashed their torn bodies.
At dawn, Eleftheria and Mike crawled from the brush and walked to a hillside and looked far down on the smoldering ashes of what had once been the village of Paleachora.
SIX
ELEFTHERIA SAT ON A boulder, too exhausted to speak and too dried out for further tears. There were no words Mike knew or would ever know to comfort the girl. From the barn loft she had seen Christos shot down in the village square while resisting the Germans and she had seen Melpo bayoneted as she knelt over her husband.
During the confusion of the roundup Eleftheria had managed to escape from the barn along with a few other villagers. Mike’s escape had been possible only because the bulk of the German force had been concentrating on a roundup of the villagers while the remaining soldiers were scattered tracking down five escapees. In his short stay in Paleachora Mike had learned the lay of the land and the places where the forest was thickest.
The two of them circled about in the hills all day away from the ashes of Paleachora. From their high vantage point they could see German patrols working, fanning out in a growing circle until they gave up futilely at dusk.
The end of the day found Mike and Eleftheria still numbed with disbelief, wet, shivering cold and their bellies rumbling with hunger.
Mike reckoned it was safe enough to risk a small fire. Its warmth revived them. He gathered up several armfuls of pine needles and piled them near the fire, then went to Eleftheria and knelt beside her.
“You’d better get some sleep,” he said. “You can start for Dernica in the morning.”
She stared down at Mike. Her black eyes were lusterless and rimmed with red. “What will become of you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve caused enough trouble.”
“You cannot blame yourself. You did not bring the Germans to Greece.”
Small consolation, Mike thought—damned small consolation. Soutar wasn’t kidding. Heilser will look behind every rock and every tree. He tried to shake the feeling of inevitable doom, but he couldn’t. What chance did he have against this force? How many more times could he be lucky?
Mike put his arm about the girl and led her to the bed of pine needles. She lay down and stretched her tired body. Her blouse had been almost completely ripped by the underbrush. He could see the dark rounds of her breasts and their red pointed nipples.
Her eyes were intent on his. Her hands reached up slowly and drew the blouse apart, baring herself for him to see. She was silent and motionless save for a growing unevenness in her breathing. Mike felt the blood rush through him.
Her breasts rose and fell, and her eyes looked up at him languorously.
He spun around. “I’ll get some more pine needles to cover you. It’s going to be cold.” He stacked several armfuls of needles over her and built up the fire. For several moments he pondered, then fixed another bed on the other side of the fire.
The sun fell in a few moments.
Mike rolled close to the fire and tried to shut out all thought of the girl on the other side. It turned dark. He could hear her thrash about restlessly.
It seemed fantastic to him that he would want to take her at a time like this. Perhaps it was his feeling of utter defeat that prodded him to seize a moment of joy. I’m not one of these noble bastards, Mike told himself. What the hell’s the matter with me?
He knew the answer. Eleftheria wasn’t the kind one could be casual with. No—she’d end up with a broken heart and he’d end up with a messy conscience. He turned his back to the fire and shut his eyes. He would not have slept except for the total exhaustion.
But the sleep was tormented. Once again he ran down the list of names—the cursed names—the seventeen names—and Stergiou and Soutar and Christos dressed in his funstanella and blood all over his white skirt and Melpo