The White Book

by George Shadow

  Some of the patients stood from their beds.

  “What’s happening, Kim?” an alarmed Aiden asked.

  “I thought you were with us,” Rachel accused Sergeant Bradley.

  “Don’t do this,” Kimberley pleaded with the man.

  “Orders are orders,” he said. “The colonel will know what to do with the four of you.”

  “Step back,” Kimberley warned the injured soldiers taking positions around them. “I don’t want to cause you more pain.”

  “And I don’t want to put a bullet through you,” Sergeant Bradley warned her. “Now, hand over that cursed book, child,” he told Rachel, his left hand stretched out towards her.

  “No, I won’t,” Rachel said, tightly clasping her precious book to her bosom.

  Sergeant Bradley placed the pistol’s muzzle on Aiden’s head and the young Jewess gave him the book.

  “Did you have to do that?” Aunt Shira asked the soldier. “You could have just taken the book from her, you know, seeing that she’s just a child?”

  Murmuring broke out among some of the wounded soldiers in the hospital block as they voiced their agreement to this.

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures, ma’am,” Sergeant Bradley said, trying to regain the men’s support. “Now, we must tie you all up.”

  Ropes appeared from nowhere and the clinic’s strongest patients secured Aunt Shira, Kimberley and her two companions to bed posts under Sergeant Bradley’s watchful eyes.

  “What do you even have in this book?” the US Army sergeant wondered aloud, flipping through the ancient codex. “Nothing but names?” His right hand moved over an open page.

  “Don’t you dare touch any names in that book,” Kimberley warned him. “You’ll never see your family again if you do.”

  “You will die if you do,” Rachel threw in.

  The man closed the book. “And why is that?” he asked. “You told Dr. Carlton it was a time machine. Why will I die if I touch the names?”

  “You’ll die because…because…,” Kimberley fumbled. She had Rachel to thank for mixing things up.

  “Because, you’ll never survive the changes that will transport you to another place and time if you do not know the secret word,” Aunt Shira rescued her with.

  “And what’s the secret word?”

  “We’re not telling you until you let us go,” Aiden said.

  Sergeant Bradley frowned. He didn’t believe the boy, but he still couldn’t get himself to touch a name in the book without the necessary precaution, if there was any, that is. “Colonel Pash will know what to do with the four of you and your book,” he concluded.

  “You know they’ll come back for it,” Rachel said and the US Army sergeant smiled. “The book will protect me, remember?” he said.

  “Wrong,” Kimberley said. “The book can only protect when its Bookbearer is holding it.”

  “Then the little girl comes with me,” Sergeant Bradley said.

  “No, I won’t,” Rachel protested.

  “Take me instead,” Aunt Shira began, surprising Kimberley, Aiden and her niece. “I am also a Bookbearer, as well as a Bookmaker.”

  “I don’t believe you, ma’am,” Sergeant Bradley said, untying Rachel. “She is coming with me, because I’ve seen what she can do, but for the rest of you, until Task Force A returns, we will see you as our prisoners of war.”

  “Really, serg?” a short man with greedy eyes began. He had tied up Kimberley. “We could do with a little rest away from the front, you know. If this here book could take us out of this war with all the killing and blood-letting, why don’t we take that chance?”

  “We’ll do no such thing, Private Gus,” Sergeant Bradley said. “Now, get some guns with Ralph and Fred and guard these prisoners. The rest should come with me.”

  “Yes, serg,” Gus obeyed, stooping to withdraw a dead medic’s sidearm just as Ralph and Fred separated from their colleagues to look for weapons.

  Kimberley thought the short fellow had other intentions when she looked at his face, but the moment passed and he just walked over to where she squatted. He sat on the bed he had tied her to.

  “What if those things come back, serg?” a severely wounded soldier lying on a bed asked Bradley in a faint voice. “What will be our fate, then?”

  “You’re wounded,” Kimberley told the man. “They won’t hurt you.”

  “Okay,” Sergeant Bradley said. “One less thing to worry about, right?” He left with Rachel, the white book and the wounded who were able to follow him.

  Kimberley felt defeated. Beaten.

  “It doesn’t need to be a cross, you know,” Mrs. Braun, or Aunt Shira, began.

  “What?” Kimberley asked her.

  “Your drawing,” the older woman clarified. “It could be an ankh; an ‘X’ or a ‘T.’ Any sign that indicates two lines that intersect scares the hell out of the Booklords.”

  “I see,” Kimberley claimed. Of course, they’d used the ankh back in Egypt. “Does it have anything to do with the crucifixion of Jesus Christ?”

  “I don’t think so, but I really don’t know,” Aunt Shira confessed. “It’s a temporary measure, by the way.”

  “And what do you mean by that?”

  “It only scares those demons,” Aunt Shira replied. “It doesn’t stop them from repeatedly coming back for the book.

  “I see,” Kimberley repeated, still trying to understand where the German Jew was going with her explanation. “So, what’s the permanent measure?”

  “The Ice of Masada weakens with time,” Aunt Shira said. “Sadly.”

  “The Ice of Masada?” Kimberley frowned in thought. “I’ve heard that before. Is that the name for…”

  “The book’s ice dome,” Aunt Shira supplied. “The Ice of Masada protects the white book against the Gray Ones, while the Fire of Masada protects the black book from the Black Ones.”

  “The Fire of Masada?” Kimberley frowned again. “Fire and Ice?”

  “That protects the third book,” the German before her said.

  “A third book?”

  “A combination of these elements produces an indescribable force that can only protect the ultimate determiner of one’s destiny,” Aunt Shira pointed out.

  “The third book?” Aiden asked her, visibly puzzled. “Is there a third book, ma’am?”

  “No, there isn’t, my dear. Not yet,” Aunt Shira revealed. “We were trying to figure out how to make it before the Romans broke into the Mine and took away the black book.”

  Kimberley let out a silent sigh of relief. A third book was the last thing she wanted to hear about in this weird tale trying to spiral out of control.

  “Is that a fairy tale or something, ma’am?” Gus interrupted. “Couldn’t help listening to your conversation.”

  Kimberley saw an opportunity in the soldier’s ironic remark. “Help us get the book your sergeant took away from us, Gus,” she urged the private. “Help us get it back and we will help you leave this war.”

  “And where will I go?” the private wondered aloud. “Where will you take me to?”

  “Back home?” Aiden told the private. “With your family in a better future?”

  “Okay, I’ll help you.”

  “You heard the sergeant, Gus,” Fred said. “Don’t listen to them.”

  “I’m not listening to them,” Gus said. “I’m just trying to survive this war. Who’s with me?”

  “Sure, I’m in,” Ralph said. “Better to leave now alive than in a box, on a later date.”

  “Of course,” Kimberley agreed with him.

  “You two better know what you’re doing,” Fred warned his colleagues.

  “You won’t regret this, Fred,” Aunt Shira told the doubting soldier. “Just help us.”

  “Yes, Fred,” Aiden contributed. “Just help us.”

  “Come on board, Fred,” Ralph urged his mate, who appeared to be hesitating.

  “What do you want to do, Gus?” Fred finally
asked his colleague.

  “Untie them, Fred,” Gus ordered him.

  “Why me?” Fred wanted to know. “Why not Ralph?”

  “Because you’re nearer, dammit,” Gus snapped.

  Fred untied the three prisoners Sergeant Bradley had ordered him to guard with his colleagues. Gus and Ralph had their guns trained on the two women and one boy as he worked to free them.

  “I’ll go check on the sergeant,” Private Gus said afterwards. “You too should remain here and watch over them. Shoot them if they try anything funny.”

  “Thought they would have been better off tied to the posts,” Fred said.

  “They’re our way out of here, Fred,” Ralph said. “Let’s try and show them some respect.”

  “Exactly, Ralph,” Gus agreed.

  When he left, Kimberley turned to Rachel’s aunt. “Why did you volunteer yourself in place of Rachel?” she asked.

  “I was just trying to protect my niece,” Aunt Shira said.

  “Are you a Bookbearer as well?”

  “All Bookmakers are Bookbearers,” the woman replied. “But not all Bookbearers are Bookmakers.”

  “I see,” Kimberley said quietly, deciding to let the issue rest for the time being, though she still had her doubts.

  She thought of the Gray Ones. They had failed to attack a second time and she wondered why.

  Ralph started whistling.

  “We can’t wait for your colleague, Ralph,” Kimberley told the man. “This is what we must do.”

  “I’m all ears,” Ralph agreed, drawing closer.

  Aiden, Fred and Aunt Shira drew closer as well.

  * * *

  Private Gus Carrington walked to the army mess hall. He knew that Sergeant Bradley and almost all the injured-but-able-bodied men of Alsos Unit Spear were stationed there waiting for Task Force A to return. He thought about what he’d done and shrugged it off. If the rumor circulating a few days ago, after Sergeant Bradley and his team returned from Stuttgart with the little girl and her book, were true, then what he was already doing could mean the difference between life and death for him, and Ralph. And Fred, if that lazy fellow wasn’t having cold feet already.

  The private met a sentry at the double doors of the mess hall. “I need to see the sergeant, Pete,” he told the man. “It’s urgent.”

  “He won’t like it if you left those prisoners unguarded, Gus,” Corporal Pete told him. “That’s a priority, you know?”

  “Of course,” Private Gus agreed. “Know where he kept the girl?”

  “Is that why you’re here, private?” Pete frowned and brandished his rifle.

  “No, of course not,” Gus said, grinning. “Just wanna see the sergeant, that’s all.”

  “Okay, you can go in,” Pete said, lowering his weapon. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Yes, I do, Pete,” his colleague said. “Just wanna see the sergeant, that’s all. Fred and Ralph can handle the prisoners.”

  “Can they?”

  “What do you mean by that?” Gus snapped.

  “They’re right behind you as hostages.”

  “What?” Private Gus spun round and gaped at the five individuals making their way towards the mess hall. Corporal Pete raised his gun again.

  “They die if you open fire,” Kimberley warned, using Fred’s service rifle to steer him towards the mess hall. “Now, drop your weapon.”

  The sentry obeyed and raised his hands like Gus, who drew back when the five from the clinic got to the hall’s double doors. Aunt Shira had Ralph covered with his Garand rifle, while Aiden had ropes with him just in case. The boy took Pete’s gun and pointed it at the guard.

  “What do you want?” Pete asked Kimberley.

  “Open the doors and step inside first,” the Portwood police officer ordered him. “Don’t try anything stupid.”

  Those inside were startled by the group when the corporal obeyed her. They raised their guns before realizing the futility of such an attempt.

  “Do no such thing,” Kimberley advised them. “As you can see, your colleagues are not in the best of situations.” She directed Corporal Pete to move over to Sergeant Bradley’s group. “Now, drop your guns.”

  “You know that’s not possible,” Bradley told her. “Task Force A will be here any minute now and you’ll be…”

  “Drop your weapons, I say!” Kimberley shouted.

  “Do as she says, serg,” Gus urged Bradley.

  Grumbling, the men behind the sergeant started obeying the order. Bradley saw this and did the same thing.

  “Now, step back,” Kimberley told them, and they obeyed her. Aiden collected the rifles and pistols on the floor and returned to the safety of his group. “Where is Rachel, and the book?”

  “Right here, Kim,” the young Bookbearer said, stepping forward from behind the Bradley group.

  “Oh, child,” Aunt Shira began. “Did they hurt you?”

  “No, aunt,” Rachel replied, walking over to Aiden with her book tucked under her armpit in her usual manner.

  “She’s okay,” Sergeant Bradley said. “I just didn’t allow her to open the book.”

  Kimberley grinned. “Because you knew what might happen,” she told him. “Good to see you’re learning fast, sergeant.”

  “What now?” Private Fred asked no one in particular.

  “We need a Jeep,” Gus said, moving towards Aiden and his stockpile of guns.

  “Don’t do that, Gus,” Kimberley ordered him.

  “Why not?” the private asked her, stopping in his tracks.

  “You fools,” Bradley snapped. “I should have guessed how you were overpowered.”

  “They’re our hostages,” Kimberley tried to ascertain. “They will continue being our hostages.”

  “But you promised to…” Gus began.

  “Until a time when the arrangement will no longer be needed,” Kimberley concluded, glaring at the short private. “Now, Private Gus, we need a good Jeep.”

  “You won’t get far,” Sergeant Bradley warned her. “We’ll radio for aerial search and destroy.”

  “Can’t wait for that, serg,” Kimberley said with a smile as she withdrew with her group. “Right now, we really have to go.”

  “We will find and stop you before you go far,” Bradley said coldly.

  “In your dreams,” Kimberley whispered, opening the structure’s double doors.

  Bradley and his men filtered out of the mess hall after Kimberley’s exit. Luckily, a GMC CCKW truck sat at the corner of the radio building near the hall. Ralph took the steering wheel while Gus entered in front beside him. Fred entered the back with Aunt Shira, Aiden and Rachel. Kimberley covered Sergeant Bradley and his remaining men, waiting for the truck to start.

  As the heavy-duty vehicle groaned into life, she joined Gus and Ralph in the front seat, her rifle still pointing at the soldiers standing helplessly before their mess hall. “Nice meeting you, sergeant,” she quipped and banged her door shut.

  Sergeant Bradley and his team watched in frustration as the fugitives rumbled away. They yelled curses at the escapees when the truck stopped and Aiden got down to dump all the guns he had collected into an empty shallow well near the road.

  “Why am I doing this, Kim?” he demanded as he worked.

  “Because those men still need protection in this war,” Kimberley replied. “We can’t just take away their guns in the middle of a war.”

  “Good point,” Private Gus said. He felt happy. After all, he’d been promised an easy way out of the war.

  Bradley raced to the shallow well, being the only one fit to run in the company of assembled survivors of Alsos Unit Spear. He jumped into the structure as the truck pulled away. When he got out of it with a rifle in his right hand, the escaping prisoners had become a speck in the distance. “Damn it!” he muttered. “Radio for air support,” he ordered those doing their best to come up to his position despite their battle injuries.

  “What do we tell them, sir?�
��

  “Tell them we need a search and destroy in the area. A lone ‘Jimmy’ truck filled with prisoners of war and heading back to the front. Quickly!”

  Chapter 16: Aunt Shira

  RALPH floored the gas pedal and the GMC truck surged forward. A dense forest of giant fir trees raced backward on both sides of the narrow dearth road he’d decided to take once he left Alsos Mission’s forward camp in Germany. There were so many such roads around the secret mission’s German barracks, but the US Army private had chosen a particular one, because he thought it could not be monitored from the sky due to the canopy the fir trees provided for the road’s occasional users.

  “Where’re we going?” Rachel asked Aiden.

  “No idea,” he replied.

  “No where in particular,” Kimberley told them from the front. “We just need to make sure we’re not being followed, then we can stop and do what we need to do.”

  “Right on,” Gus enthused beside her.

  “They’re not following us,” Mrs. Hannah Braun, or Aunt Shira, said from the truck’s cargo area.

  “Obviously,” Kimberley said, staring at the receding road behind them through the side mirror near her.

  “Bradley won’t risk putting a bunch of wounded men in a truck to go after losers like us in German territory, would he?” Gus pointed out.

  “We still have to be careful, though,” Kimberley warned. “Remember Task Force A.”

  “They won’t use the road,” the ever-hesitant Fred said from the back of the truck.

  “Sure thing,” Ralph agreed. “They won’t find us easily from the skies, though.”

  “Hope you’re right.” Kimberley looked up at the massive trees shooting up into the sky from all directions near the narrow track road. She felt safe, despite the ordeal she’d just gone through with her fellow time-travelers. At least, they had found their contact, even if the woman’s instructions on the white book were not palatable. She could hear Rachel conversing with her aunt at the back of the truck. She wished she knew some Hebrew. “Stop the truck,” she told Ralph, satisfied that they weren’t being followed.

  “Did you hear that?” Fred asked from the back.

  “Hear what?” Kimberley frowned. She could hear a faint sound like a whistle coming from up above. It sounded like…