“What are we supposed to do?” Kozlowski said. “Shut up and let the Japs kill us all?”
“The Japanese were called out of the mountains,” she said. “Mori must be obligated to go. That’s why he’s leaving now, before he’s found Fárez and the rest. I’m worried if we all escape, he’ll have reason to stay, even if it means disobeying orders.”
Kozlowski gripped the edge of his mat, face a grimace. It looked part frustration, part pain as his morphine wore off.
“But what if we don’t all escape?” she asked. “What if it’s only some of us? I’m talking about those of you who are going to die in a death march. You escape, the rest of us stay behind as prisoners. Mori looks and figures you won’t survive without medical care, so it doesn’t matter.”
“And Mori would be right,” Claypool said. “You’d need to escape, too. We’ll need your help to stay alive.”
Louise shook her head. “No, not me. I lied to him, I tricked his men. It’s too personal now, too risky—he’d come after me. You can take another nurse maybe, but not me.”
“If you’re suggesting Frankie . . .” Kozlowski growled.
“I’m not. I’ll take Frankie with me. Clarice left with the partisans. That leaves Maria Elena. She’s a Pinoy, and I don’t trust those Sakdals to leave her alone. They’ll split her into a different camp in Manila, assuming she makes it that far.” Louise licked her lips, considering. “But I think if you go, hide nearby until the Japanese are gone, you might have a chance with Maria Elena looking after you. The rest of us will go to the internment camp.”
Kozlowski rolled onto his back and put a forearm over his eyes. Louise thought he was too overcome with pain to continue and she’d have to deaden his senses with morphine, but moments later he removed his arm and looked at her again.
“Okay. It’s a plan. We escape tonight.”
“That’s not a plan,” Claypool said. “That’s an objective. We’ve got guards at the door, no chance of knocking them out with morphine again, and no Sammy to help us. How are we going to get past them?”
“I’ve got an idea for that, too,” Kozlowski said. “Thanks to Miss Louise, there’s a back way out of here.”
Frankie was making noise again, complaining about being stuck in the corner while they’d let Sammy go. She’d saved these men’s lives. How dare they treat her worse than a filthy Japanese soldier? When she saw Bledsoe climb onto the operation table and prod at the ceiling with his fist, her eyes widened.
“Are you all nuts? You can’t climb onto the roof. They’re going to kill us.”
Kozlowski nodded at Louise. “Better tell her the real plan.”
The “real plan” was code to get Frankie out of the way. Louise had already whispered what was to be done to both Maria Elena and Seaman Bledsoe. Bledsoe was a strong young sailor, another victim of the Cavite Navy Yard bombings. Now that his wounds were mending and his malaria was on the retreat, he was the strongest patient in the hospital. A quiet, serious young man, he could be counted on to help subdue Louise’s fellow nurse.
Louise sat down next to Frankie. “Listen to me. You know that Mori is going to march us out of here, right? We’re headed for the lowlands on foot, then we’ll be interned.”
“We’ll be better off that way. We should have turned ourselves in a long time ago.”
“I said on foot, Frankie. You know what that means for these men. Some of them will die.”
“Then we never should have come up here in the first place. It was stupid, we should have given up in Manila when we had the chance. Then we’d be safe. The Red Cross would see to us, and the Japs couldn’t do anything about it.”
Her voice was climbing again. The Japanese soldiers outside the door would hear if she kept carrying on. Louise clenched her jaw, so angry at Frankie now she wanted to wrap her hands around the woman’s throat and choke the silly hen until her face turned blue.
There was movement to one side. Maria Elena, with a small bottle and a sponge. Bledsoe came down from the bench, glanced at Dr. Claypool, who nodded. Maria Elena slid in from the other side. Frankie glanced at both the sailor and the Filipina nurse and seemed to understand all at once. She tried to stand.
Bledsoe knelt in a swift motion and pinned Frankie’s arms to her side. At the same moment, Louise took the sponge from Maria Elena and pressed it over Frankie’s mouth and nose. The nurse struggled and tried to cry out, but that only drew ether from the sponge into her lungs. The room stank with an odor almost like spilled gasoline, a smell that would linger for hours. Louise turned her head to breathe in as little as possible. Frankie’s violent struggles soon came to an end, and she went limp.
Louise rose to her feet, breathing hard from the struggle. “I feel bad for her, in spite of everything she’s done. She’s going to have a hard time of it when she wakes up.”
“You mean she’ll be sick?” Maria Elena asked.
The Filipina nurse sat down next to Frankie with the sponge and the bottle of ether. She’d add a couple of drops periodically to keep the woman unconscious until the escape was complete.
“She’ll wake up vomiting thanks to the ether, but that’s not what I mean.” Louise shook her head. “I don’t know what’s ahead of us. Maybe Mori will kill us all in revenge, or maybe it will be nothing more than the internment camp. Either way, Frankie is going to suffer more than the rest of us.”
“She’ll whine about it more,” Maria Elena said. “That’s about all.”
“No, I mean she’ll suffer. She’ll stagger out of here hating us, hating herself. All that complaining only makes it worse. When we get to the camp, those of us who can pull together will survive better than those who wallow in misery.”
“Good,” Maria Elena said bitterly. “I hope she rots.”
And then she seemed to remember that the rest of them would be rotting next to Frankie and looked away, face ashamed. Louise forgave the outburst. She was struggling with the same anger. It was unhealthy and could not be indulged in, or Louise would sink into the same mire that had ensnared Frankie.
Bledsoe climbed back on the bench, stretched for the ceiling, and tore at the thatching. It was slow going at first, but as he got deeper into the grass roof, it turned damp and rotten. Soon he was pulling out big chunks of it. He grinned when he broke through and stuck his arm in up to the shoulder.
“Yeah, that’s the night air,” he said. “I can already feel the mosquitoes landing on my arm like a thousand bloodsucking Jap Zeros.” He pulled back out and went back to work tearing out grass to expand the hole.
“I have a question for you, Miss Louise,” Kozlowski asked from his mat as Bledsoe worked. “When you negotiated with Mori about the fence, did you see this happening?”
“What do you mean?”
“You wouldn’t let him force us into building a fence. That left the back of the hospital unguarded. We can walk right out of here. Was that your plan all along?”
“Not at all,” she said honestly. “I was only trying to protect you men. Not one of you was well enough to be digging a trench or putting up a fence, or whatever else Mori was going to order you to do. I was afraid of losing patients, that’s all.”
“It worked out in the end,” Kozlowski said. “Now we’ve got an escape route.”
“So long as they don’t have a guard posted around back,” Louise said.
“There aren’t enough Japs to look everywhere. And three of Mori’s men were staked in the sun today. Even if they are on guard duty, they won’t be very vigilant.”
“What about Sakdals?” she asked.
“At this hour? Drunk on lambanog.”
After that, the lieutenant seemed to withdraw into his own thoughts, only looking up when Louise started laying out the supplies she’d be sending with the escapees. Only the basics: morphine, quinine, bandages. A little food, but not much. They had little and could carry less.
Bledsoe proclaimed the hole big enough to escape through.
“Give me n
ames, Miss Louise,” Kozlowski said. “Who goes?”
She named the sick and injured men, starting with Kozlowski himself and Dr. Claypool. Seven men in all, plus Maria Elena. The doctor nodded weakly at her assessment.
Kozlowski pulled himself into a sitting position with a grimace. “Okay, boys. You heard Miss Louise. Time to get out of here.”
Somehow they got the men to their feet. Bledsoe climbed out to the roof, and then three others hoisted the escapees up to him, one after another. Kozlowski took Louise’s hand when it was his turn.
“Thank you. It was an honor and a privilege. Don’t forget us.”
It was so much like Sammy’s final good-bye that her heart felt like it would break. Don’t forget us. The words of a man who didn’t think he would survive.
“You’re a good nurse, Miss Louise,” Dr. Claypool said, waiting his turn. “The best I ever had.”
She spoke quickly, before the lump in her throat choked off her voice. “Don’t go far. None of you has the strength. Just wait, hope they leave, then come back to the hospital. Don’t push too hard if you can help it. Not one of you should be out of bed, let alone—”
Claypool stopped her with a low chuckle. “Thank you for the medical advice, nurse.”
She felt herself blushing and stammered an apology. To her surprise, the doctor embraced her, and she clenched the older man in return, feeling for a moment that she was back in her father’s arms when he hugged her before she shipped off to join the nursing corps.
When he pulled away, Louise looked around to see that Kozlowski was already gone. Claypool went next, and finally arms reached down from the ceiling to grab Maria Elena and hoist her up. She was slender and disappeared quickly through the hole. Louise ached not to have even said good-bye, but then Maria Elena’s face appeared.
“Thank you,” Maria Elena said. “Please take care of yourself.”
When Maria Elena was gone, Louise sniffled and her eyes stung. But she wasn’t the only one with tears in her eyes. Some of the strongest men in the room were sniffling or turning away to hide their faces.
Louise wished she could afford to cry. Fárez, gone—no word from him since he’d vanished into the mountains. Sammy, gone. Kozlowski and Claypool, gone. Her only friend among the nurses, Maria Elena, gone.
No time for tears. With the departure of the Filipina nurse, Frankie would soon be waking up and complicating matters. Louise had to get organized first.
“All right, everyone,” she said. “You’re still the walking wounded. Captain Mori will be here in a few hours, and assuming he doesn’t kill us all, we’ve got to get ourselves down from the mountains in one piece. That means we’ve got work to do.”
Chapter Thirty
Night seemed to last forever, yet at the same time, morning arrived with terrifying speed. Louise had everything packed up, her men dressed and ready to go. Even Frankie was cooperating for the moment, but although she was sick after waking from the ether, it hadn’t stopped another angry outburst when she’d learned what had been done.
When Captain Mori threw open the door and barked for them to line up for bows and roll call, everyone fell silent. There was fear on every face.
Louise’s heart was pounding. “I’ll go first.”
“Koz left me in charge,” Bledsoe said. “I’ll go. If that fellow loses his temper, better me than you.”
“Stay here,” she said firmly. “We’ve got a better chance if it’s me facing him when he figures it out.”
Louise stepped into the hot morning air. Steam curled above the rice paddies and lingered above the trees on the surrounding forest.
The Japanese soldiers were lined up in their uniforms with their rifles at the ready. Bayonets fixed. Packs on their backs. Not one of the Kempeitai looked eager to be facing a long march out of the mountains. Mori and Fujiwara stood in front of them with their typical haughty expressions. Behind them, the Sakdals, sullen and slouching.
The villagers had gathered, too, perhaps curious to see the conquerors march off with their prisoners. They’d have been smarter to stay indoors until the Japanese were gone. Even the village dogs had come out to see what the commotion was about. At their head was Stumpy, wagging his half tail and looking about eagerly, as if searching for Fárez or one of his other human friends.
Louise almost didn’t see Sammy at first. Her former patient stood to one side, leaning on his crutches, with a crude bamboo splint on his leg. Good. She’d have liked to see that cast still on him, but even a few sticks would give his tibia a better chance of making it down without re-breaking from the repeated stress.
Stumpy trotted through the crowd, as if he belonged in the center circle. He approached Sammy, tail wagging. Sammy pushed him away with a crutch, a scowl on his face, though Louise knew it was an act. One of the Sakdals pitched a stone at the dog, who danced expertly aside and barked. Mori spotted the dog and looked annoyed.
You silly thing. Get out of here.
In any event, Louise didn’t need the Japanese angry when she made her plea, so before Stumpy could get any more stones thrown at him, she walked up to Mori. She bowed low, as she’d been taught, and kept her expression respectful. She did not look at his sword, though it was hard not to think of it as he rested one hand on the hilt.
“Thank you, sir, for your kindness.”
“Get them out here,” Mori snapped. “We have no time for this. I want bows and roll call in five minutes. Then we march.”
Louise waved behind her without turning away from the captain. Bledsoe came first, leading the limping, slowly moving soldiers out of the hospital. They came out, stood in front of Mori and Fujiwara one at a time, and bowed low and respectfully. Fujiwara watched them through narrowed eyes. Suspicion seemed to be blooming on his face already, even as men kept filing out.
As the men bowed, Louise kept talking. “You have treated us well as prisoners, sir, and I have no doubt you will allow us time to arrive safely at our destination.”
“We will move at the pace required.”
“Some of the more seriously wounded and sick would not survive too rapid a pace.”
“Nevertheless, they will make an attempt. Some may fall along the way. This is a war, men die.”
“As a nurse entrusted with their care, I did what I could to save those who wouldn’t survive a rapid march. The men who stand before you will obey your every command. There will be no resistance, I promise you.”
The captain glared. “What are you talking about?”
Fujiwara said something to him then, and Mori whipped his head around, took in the dozen men lined up with their little bundles of food and medical supplies.
“What is this?” Mori demanded. “Get the rest of them out here at once.”
“I am sorry, sir.”
“I’m warning you, woman. If my men go inside, they go in with bayonets.” He reached into his jacket pocket and removed the list of names and ranks of the hospital patients and slapped the rolled-up paper onto his palm. “Get them out here. Every last one of them.”
As Mori spoke, Fujiwara was giving instructions in Japanese to the secret police. Their faces turned grim. Three of them lowered bayonets and moved to block the dozen Americans, as if expecting resistance. Sakdals hurried to join them. The other three Japanese moved toward the hospital door. Their bodies were tensed, expressions grim.
Louise bowed low, her head and neck exposed. “Mercy, please.”
Mori grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. “Get them out here!”
“I can’t. They escaped in the night to save their lives.”
“What?” He jerked her head.
“I’m sorry!” she pleaded. “They would have all died on the road. They’ll all die in the jungle, too. Please, the rest of us—”
He threw her to the ground, and her words died as she struck her head. By now the three Japanese soldiers were inside, crying out their findings. Bledsoe and the other soldiers made as if to surge to Louise’s aid, b
ut they were blocked now by an equal number of Japanese and Sakdals, all armed. It would be a slaughter if they tried to help. The Americans wisely held back.
Louise tried to stand.
“No. Stay down.” Mori was above her now, his sword drawn.
“Please, I promise you we’ll cooperate, I only—”
“Quiet!”
He pulled back his sword as if to strike, and she closed her eyes. This was it; this was when she’d die. Mori consulted with Fujiwara for a moment.
“So, your men escaped through the roof,” Mori said. His sword was still clenched in his hand. “They then escaped into the jungle by walking out through the trench and past the fence that was never built.” He sounded disgusted. “Your men were too sick and weak for labor, so we made a pact, you and I. You would guarantee their cooperation, and I wouldn’t force them to work.”
“I treated your men, too,” she said. “They had malaria, dysentery. That was the arrangement. I’d treat your men, and you wouldn’t work my patients to death. That’s what your march means. It’s working them until they die. It’s a death march. They wouldn’t have made it. They’re only going to die in the jungle with some dignity. You’ll arrive with all of the prisoners who would have survived anyway. There’s no difference.”
Mori seemed to consider this, and for the first time Louise felt a twinge of hope. He wasn’t a monster; he could be reasonable. There was something of his brother in him.
“Very well, nurse. I’ll take my prisoners and march them down.”
“Thank you.”
“The one who betrayed me, however, must be made an example of.” He pointed at Louise with the tip of his sword. “You will not be accompanying us. You will die here.”
Frankie screamed. There were shouts from the Americans at this. But they couldn’t move against the lowered bayonets of the Japanese Kempeitai, now six in number and backed by the Sakdals.
The Year of Counting Souls Page 29