We Shall Not Sleep_ A Novel - Anne Perry [114]
“Don’t do that,” Onslow said quietly. “It’s all over, Miss Robinson. Don’t make it worse.”
“Worse?” she said, as if he had asked her a question. “What could be worse? We’ve destroyed everything. What we haven’t killed or maimed, we’ve defiled beyond help. There isn’t anything left to win or lose. Our civilization is dead. Nothing is clean or modest or gentle as it used to be. It’s all strident, dirty. We’ve forgotten who we are, and when you do that, there’s nothing worth having at all. It’s all dirt and blood.” She took another step back.
“Miss Robinson!” Onslow said loudly, his voice high with alarm.
But it was too late. She swung around and grasped the scalpel, looked at him for an instant, then plunged it into her chest. She was a good nurse; she had seen lots of men torn open by shrapnel. She knew exactly where to strike. The blood gushed out scarlet. She crumpled to the floor and did not move again.
The soldier on the table fainted.
Cavan went as white as his coat and gagged, holding his hands over his mouth, the needle dangling by its thread.
Onslow sighed. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I should have stopped that. Not that it would have helped, really.”
Joseph bent and straightened her out, removing the scalpel. The blood was still pouring, but it would stop soon. She was already dead. He felt sad and helpless.
“Poor creature,” he said quietly. “And it won’t change anything. We’ll still have to find a way to heal.”
CHAPTER
TEN
Now they must race for the coast. There were only days to get Schenckendorff to London. Judith and Lizzie were volunteers, and could leave without difficulty. Mason could do as he chose. Matthew was due to return to London. Only Joseph was regular army, and for him to leave would be desertion.
“You have to,” Matthew said simply.
“I’ll tell Colonel Hook—” Joseph began.
“You can’t!” Matthew’s expression left no room for argument or negotiation. “We’re this close, Joseph.” He held up his hand, fingers and thumb half an inch apart. “The Peacemaker has eyes and ears everywhere. Hook has the power to stop us all. We can’t take the chance.”
“Colonel Hook!” Joseph was incredulous. They were all crammed into his bunker, which was so narrow they could not sit without touching one another. Only Schenckendorff was missing. Joseph looked at Mason, having to twist around to do it.
Mason’s face was bleak. “Anyone,” he said simply. “I don’t know who else believes the Peacemaker, or I’d tell you. We have to just leave. Fill cans with as much petrol as we can get hold of, as much food, and go. We could still lose it all.”
Joseph gave in. It was legally desertion, and it felt like it: no goodbyes, no explanation. But it was his men he cared about, and if Hook explained to them, news of it could reach the Peacemaker in hours.
He sighed and nodded.
Matthew resumed making plans.
Judith wanted to say goodbye to many people, particularly Cavan and, above all, Wil Sloan, but she, too, was aware of the danger. However she did it, or whatever she said, someone would notice and say something. Word would be passed around before they were more than a few miles away. For her, as for Joseph, any risk, however small, was too much. No one else could know how ruthless the Peacemaker was, or how far his knowledge and his alliances had spread.
So she said nothing and felt disloyal as, shivering in the dark, she drove the ambulance out of the Casualty Clearing Station onto the mud track to pick Joseph and Matthew up. They were supporting Schenckendorff between them, as he was still unable to put his weight on his injured foot. A few yards farther on they were joined by Lizzie and Mason, climbing in the back of the ambulance hastily and closing the doors as Judith accelerated and made for the road.
Mason came forward and sat beside her. He alone was of no immediate use in the back, where Lizzie was swallowing her occasional morning nausea and attending to Schenckendorff’s injured foot. Joseph and Matthew were talking quietly