The wind was blowing her long red hair into her eyes. She absentmindedly brushed back the strands as she turned toward the sound of a black car coming to a stop across the road from where she stood. A young soldier held the door open and Major Muller got out with a scowl on his face. He always wore the same expression.
Zoe was about to enter her small house when she caught sight of a familiar figure coming up the cobblestone street. A sneer curled her lips. The distinctive, tall figure of Eva Muller made its way slowly up the street, her head bowed. She wore a cloak; Zoe had never seen her without the garment on. Eva wore it even on hot summer days. On a few occasions she had seen Eva without the hood up but never without the cloak on. Now the hood covered her head, but it was unmistakably her.
Zoe’s hatred for Muller’s daughter was well known in the village and she had already been prevented twice from killing her, much to her disgust. The entire village was very much aware of what had transpired at the massacre six months before, even though no one could recall Eva except Zoe. Zoe tried to tell them that Eva had laughed while their families were dying. Many thought Zoe was still in shock and in grief over the loss of her mother.
Eva reminded Zoe of her brother Thieri—tall and slender with raven-black hair that surrounded an angular face and a dimpled chin. Eva’s blue eyes were mostly cast downward as she went about her business, not eager to make eye contact with anyone. Wherever she went, she had two soldiers shadowing her, ready to protect her in case anyone tried to harm her. Not that they could have protected her if the Resistance really wanted her dead.
Zoe continued to watch as Eva passed and, without thinking, knelt and picked up a small rock. She fingered the stone in her hand for a moment, and saw an opening in between the two soldiers. It was perfect—Eva’s head was in the middle and in a perfect location. Zoe drew her arm back and threw the rock, hitting Eva square in the back of her head. A thud echoed back to Zoe, who grinned and jumped in triumph as Eva stopped and slowly turned. Eva lowered her hood and stared at Zoe in surprise. Zoe continued to grin, oblivious to the very real danger that she could be shot where she stood. One of Eva’s guards, the one Zoe had nicknamed Goliath, advanced towards her, his rifle in his hand, and the other aimed his gun at her, waiting for their mistress’ signal.
Outraged blue eyes met stormy green and held for a few moments. Eva lowered her gaze but not before Zoe noticed, much to her surprise, that her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Eva turned back without a word, mumbled something in German to her guards, and walked away. Her guards quickly followed her down the street. Goliath looked back at Zoe and glared before he turned his attention back to his charge.
Zoe stood transfixed at the doorway, watching the retreating figure. She was mesmerized by Eva’s demure behavior. Not quite the image Zoe had envisioned. "The cripple is really a mouse. Fancy that." Zoe chuckled and shook her head in amazement. She had barely opened the door to her house when she was pulled inside and the panel was forcibly shut behind her.
"What in the name of God are you trying to do?"
The door shook as Zoe was held against it by Stavros. His black hair and dark eyes made him appear malevolent but Zoe knew he had the kindest of hearts. At that very moment he was snarling at her, and despite the situation, Zoe couldn’t help but giggle.
"Stop laughing, woman!" Stavros implored. "I saw you hit Muller’s daughter. Are you mad?"
Zoe looked up at the ceiling with a grin on her face, savoring the memory of the incident. "Did you see me bop her on the head, Stav? Now that was such a great throw!" She said excitedly. "Whap!"
Stavros sighed. "Zoe..."
"I didn’t think I would hit her. It’s not my fault the rock hit the cripple on her thick head." Zoe chuckled.
"You could have been shot--"
"Ah." Zoe held up a finger to stop Stavros from continuing. "But I wasn’t."
"Keep that up, and one day you will be on the other end of the bullet."
"Well, it’s not going to be today." Zoe chuckled. "Whap!" She slapped her hand gently over Stavros’ head. "I wish Theo was still here so I could show him how my aim has improved." Zoe laughed.
Stavros shook his head. "Killing Muller’s daughter isn’t going to help."
"Are you going soft on the Germans?" Zoe teased only to get a scowl from Stavros.
"I’m not one to go soft on the Germans, but all your attacking his daughter will do is get us all killed. That demon is already demented. Do you want him to kill us all?"
Zoe looked down at her scuffed shoe. "It would be easier than living like animals."
Stavros hugged Zoe. "I’m sorry I got rough with you. I was terrified of what they might have done to you."
"Don’t worry about me, Stav," Zoe mumbled.
Stavros grinned. "Who else do I have to worry about?"
Zoe shrugged. "Find yourself a girl, and then you can worry about her."
"I’ll always worry about you, ZoZo." Stavros laughed as Zoe slapped him on the head for the use of a nickname she loathed. Her brothers had affectionately given their little sister the name and, to her utter dismay, Stavros continued to use it when he wanted to tease her.
Zoe tried to change the subject away from her and her stone throwing. "Major Kookhead didn’t look too happy."
"The new officers have arrived." Stavros made the sound effects of bombs going off, which had Zoe grinning.
"Big kaboom?"
"Very big kaboom." Stavros grinned.
"Does she go anywhere without Goliath?"
"Zoe, please, drop the idea. It’s only going to get you killed."
"I can’t," Zoe mumbled and picked at the cracked wood on the tabletop.
"Why can’t you? She’s nobody."
"I promised Mama that I would," Zoe replied solemnly. "If she’s nobody, why can’t I kill her?"
"Because if you do, Muller will kill a hundred of us, that’s why. Is she worth one hundred of your countrymen?"
Zoe shrugged. "No," she said reluctantly.
"Good, I’m glad we finally got that sorted out." Stavros sighed with relief. The relief was short-lived when he saw a mischievous look on Zoe’s face. "What?"
"What?"
"Spill it. I know you want to," Stavros said as he was gently pushed away by Zoe.
"I had a chat with Kiria Despina and they are looking for a maid."
"Who is?"
"Major Kookhead."
"You want to work for that animal? I thought you said--"
Zoe grinned, the edges of her green eyes crinkling in delight. "Once I get close to her, then I can kill her when the time is right," Zoe said and rubbed her hands together.
"Did you hear anything I just said to you?"
"Yep, I heard you. If the need arises, I’ll be in the right place at the right time," Zoe reasoned. "Kiria Despina thinks that they will be hiring someone soon. I knew that it was perfect. It’s a message from God."
Stavros groaned. "You don’t believe in God anymore."
"I’m beginning to see the light," Zoe said with a grin. "Stav, don’t worry. You already worry too much," she admonished him and walked away chuckling.
Chapter Eight
The room was in semi-darkness and a light breeze ruffled the threadbare curtains. A golden glow illuminated the area from a candle as Zoe sat hunched over at the table and stared down at the paper. The pencil in her hand flicked across the page, seemingly of its own accord, and the shape of a woman’s face appeared moments later. There was something about the eyes that she found mesmerizing.
Zoe stopped and looked down at the drawing. The eyes looked lost and alone in contrast to the image of the woman; her presence. Zoe took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She looked into the eyes of a demon but saw no hatred. She wanted to see the hatred, wanted to see into the soul of the devil himself. She was certain that she was going to find Satan. But that evil was not there. She had wanted to draw the beast but instead she was staring down at the face of a lost soul. Her mama u
sed to tell her that an artist could see a person’s soul through the eyes—you just needed to look and see the invisible become visible. She wasn’t prepared for the look of complete innocence that stared back at her. Eva’s eyes did not reveal a demon possessed soul. They didn’t reveal anything other than her feelings at being struck by the rock.
"What are you hiding?" Zoe asked the drawing. "Pah!" She hit herself on the head. "Stupid." She pushed the drawing aside, pushed back her chair and went to the window.
Zoe pulled back the curtain as she looked past her reflection in the window. Her attention was drawn to the soldiers who were changing guard across the street, and then to the top floor. She knew the layout of the house since she used to play in it before the war. The light was still on, which was unusual. The occupant went to bed early according to Zoe’s surveillance. The room next to the bedroom was dark. That was the study. Zoe had seen Eva reading by the window a few times. Her attention went from the still lit bedroom to the unmistakable figure of Major Hans Muller leaving the house and walking briskly towards the next house, where Zoe had figured out he slept. Eva, Despina and the a few select guards slept in the main house. Moments after Muller had left, a woman stepped out of the shadows and just as quickly walked to the same house as him. Zoe shook her head in disgust. Her attention was once again drawn to the upstairs room where the light went out.
"I’m going to kill you. I swear it on my mama’s grave. I’m going to kill you," Zoe muttered, and watched the swastika flag flutter in the wind.
Zoe glanced at the clock behind her and frowned. She could barely read the numbers on the clock face but she knew it was very late. Stavros had not returned from his meeting with Apostolos and the local KKE Resistance group. She turned back to the window and scanned the street anxiously, hoping that Stavros had not been stopped by the hated patrols. The Germans were enforcing the curfew, but Stavros found that if he acted dumb, sometimes the soldiers wouldn’t pick on him.
The unmistakable figure of Father Haralambos hurriedly walking down the street caught Zoe’s attention. His black robes billowed around his legs as he quickly made his way towards the church. Zoe wondered why the priest would be going to the church at such a late hour unless he was there to alert the village of more deaths. Zoe was sure she would be hearing those bells in her sleep for years to come.
Zoe hated that sound, for it meant that another mother had lost her son in the war. It was the practice of the church to ring the bells whenever a mother found out that her son had died fighting for the motherland. Larissa had lost too many of her sons and daughters.
Zoe stared down at the retreating figure of Father Haralambos. How those words were burned into her memory: God and country. She remembered the day so clearly. It was in May 1941. She saw her first German soldier and realized that God hadn’t listened to their prayers, nor would He. She had stopped believing. Whenever Father Haralambos asked her, she echoed the words of Metaxas and said, "No!" She found that rather fitting. That had been two years ago and many things had changed in those years.
"What are you doing?" Stavros asked as he came up beside Zoe and put his hand on her shoulder.
Zoe was startled and jumped. "Stav!" She slapped Stavros’ hand.
"Hey, I didn’t creep up on you," Stavros protested. "I made a point of being noisy coming up the stairs, since I knew you wouldn’t be asleep and I didn’t want to scare you."
"You’re lucky I didn’t have my gun in my hand."
Stavros smiled and kissed Zoe on the cheek. "Just what I need, a hole in the head."
"I didn’t see you coming down the street." Zoe pointed to the window.
"I didn’t." Stavros smiled. "I took the back way."
"The back way?"
"The less you know about it, the better." Stavros chuckled and ruffled Zoe’s hair. He set down the supplies he had brought before crossing over to the table and sitting down in the chair. He picked up the drawing and whistled in approval. "Pretty."
Zoe looked down at the drawing. "She’s the devil."
"Looks awfully cute for a devil. You are obsessed with Muller’s daughter. I like the dimpled chin."
"I’m not obsessed and I hate dimpled chins—they look silly," Zoe replied and turned back to the window. "I just want her dead."
"Please, can you stop thinking about how to kill this woman?" Stavros took the artwork and looked at it again. "Wow, nice eyes."
Zoe scowled. "Is that all you can see?"
"What do you want me to see?"
"Evil."
"No horns or tail." Stavros chortled, got up from his seat, and went to the supplies.
Zoe pursed her lips and went back to her drawing. Taking her pencil, she drew in the horns. "They don’t suit her," she muttered.
"Draw something nice," Stavros said as he cut the bread. Food was getting scarce for everyone but the occupation forces. As the war dragged on, the Germans were left well fed and the Greeks starving.
"Maybe," Zoe mumbled and put away the drawing. "Did you see Apostolos?"
"Yes. Apostolos met me and gave me a bottle of his new brew." Stavros uncapped the bottle and had a sniff before filling two cups with the liquid. Olives and feta cheese were the two items they could get their hands on easily. Zoe looked down at her meal and sighed. When the war ended, she was going to keep away from olives and feta cheese for the rest of her life.
"What is this supposed to be?"
"Well, according to Apostolos, it’s the next best thing to ouzo. He said it was his best brew yet."
They ate in silence until the church bells startled them. Zoe looked over at Stavros and they both crossed themselves. Stavros poured some of the alcohol into a cup and took a sip, making a face as he swallowed.
"Those bells, Stav. I’m going to be hearing those damn bells for the rest of my life. We didn’t know the horror that would come to us. Metaxas may have been right not to let the English land. Koryzis made a very big mistake," Zoe said quietly. Arxigos Ioannis Metaxas was the leader of the National Socialist Regime and the man who stood against Mussolini’s ultimatum to invade Greece and ensure Italy’s safety against an English invasion. It had been Metaxas’ refusal to bow to the Italian dictator and his fervent "NO!" that created a Greek hero in 1940. The Greeks stopped the Italians from invading and after that victory, Metaxas suddenly died. Zoe had seen him briefly while he was in Larissa for a visit, and she liked him on sight. Her brothers didn’t like his politics, but Zoe couldn’t be bothered with that.
"No. Metaxas was wrong, not Koryzis. We should have let the English come. We might as well have told Hitler to invade us."
"He was going to invade anyway." Zoe shrugged. "I never liked Koryzis. He killed himself. What kind of Greek kills himself?"
"I don’t know. We relied on God to save us as well," Stavros whispered.
"You know something?"
"What?"
"There is no God."
"So says the fool."
"So I’ve been told. I’m a fool then and so are many others," Zoe replied. They sat in silence for a long time with the candle flickering.
"We are so bright and cheerful." Zoe smiled at Stavros and gently hit him on the arm. They laughed. "You know, Stav, we are way too depressed to be Greeks. I think we are Russians in disguise."
"Ah, but we are Greek and we do depression well. We’ve had a lot of practice. Joy is for another time and another place."
Zoe stopped smiling and looked at Stavros. "And you are too young to be without joy. It makes your black eyes even blacker."
"I don’t think that’s possible. As for the joy...we will find our joy after the war," Stavros mumbled. "Until then, we try and rid our country of the krauts." He picked up the glass and took a swallow. "I swear Apostolos wants to kill us with this brew."
"Maybe we can give it to the Germans and the war will end," Zoe said as she took a sip herself and didn’t know whether to swallow or spit it out. She winced as the burning liquid went down her throat. "This
tastes worse than his other brew." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Did Apostolos have any news?"
Stavros looked down at the liquid and swirled his cup. "The Germans killed twenty men and women from Nea Smirnea in revenge for the truck bombing. We lost Andreas. He was..." Stavros threw the cup against the fireplace, where it shattered. "Apostolos thinks we have a collaborator in our midst-- maybe from the KKE." He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
"I don’t believe the stupidity of the KKE and, of course, all the other Resistance groups, such as EDES and EKKA. They were fighting amongst themselves, each trying to outdo the other. All the while, the Germans were killing our people and raping our country."
Zoe went over and collected the broken pieces of the cup and put them in the paper bag. She looked back at Stavros, who had his head down. "When is this madness going to end?"
"He also told me that they are rounding up Greek Jews. He said they are being shipped somewhere."
"Why?" Zoe asked, drying her hands with a towel and then sitting down opposite Stavros.
"I don’t know. Apostolos told me that the three British and New Zealanders they helped escape last week told him some stories when they were in Trikala."
"What stories?"
"They say that the Germans are shipping Jews like cattle, that they have seen men, women and children in boxcars, heading I-don’t-know-where."
"Do you believe it?"
"There’s no reason for the Allies to lie about this. The Germans are capable of horrendous crimes; we just have to see what they do to our people."
"Are you going ahead with the bombing?"
"Yes, of course. We have to. If we can get the supplies in, we can go and play blowups," Stavros said and banged on the table, startling Zoe.
"If we have a collaborator in our midst as Apostolos thinks, won’t they know what you are going to do?"
"I don’t know, Zo. I know I can trust you and that’s the extent to which I trust anyone." Stavros looked at Zoe and smiled. "I know you’re not with the KKE."
Zoe gave Stavros a mock glare. "That’s not funny, Stavros Kalanaris! Those communists! Come on, do I look like a Stalinist?"
In The Blood Of The Greeks (Intertwined Souls Series Book 1) Page 6