by Len Gilbert
“Wait,” she said, ears suddenly lowered.
“Are you gonna leave me?”
Well, that was a strange question. From Hans’ experience with women in this world, which was his only experience, usually they were the ones to leave him. For whatever reason. But Hans was hungry, frostbitten, and out of food. It was hard to say no to Sarah. Very hard.
“No. Um, no, I won’t leave you.”
“Yay!” Sarah giggled and squeezed him, and kissed him on the cheek.
Now was no time to hesitate, because these moments didn’t come too often. Hans took Sarah’s paw and kissed her softly on the mouth. Sarah gasped in surprise, but took the kiss and let Hans lead her through it. Hans was pretty sure she’d never done this before. She was still blushing when the kiss trailed off.
“I’m glad you found me because I get lonesome a lot and need company. I never thought I’d see so many humans, either.”
“I know how you feel. I’ve been traveling for months. Looking for my friends, a ship, and a way home. And I’ve never found anything. It’d be nice to stay with someone I like.” That was true. He’d also run out of food and the land had frozen over.
She pressed her pink nose against Hans’.
“And do you like someone?”
Hans chuckled, “Well, yes. I like you.”
She giggled and kissed him on the mouth this time.
“I know it’s cold here but you’ll get used to it I know you will! And I can hunt for you I’m a really good hunter!”
“Hunt? For me?”
“I know its kind of weird because I’m a girl and all but yes I’ll hunt for you!”
Hans realized then that he made the right decision, because chances were that he’d now make it through winter here.
“Thanks. You’re the best! I hope we can make this home.” Hans tried to sound as enthusiastic as she was. Excitement or not, he did need Sarah.
“I’m glad you want to, I wanna be with you forever.”
This time Sarah grabbed Hans’ face and pulled him in for a much more passionate kiss. Hans wondered what he was getting into. Well, no, he did know what it meant. Maybe this was what the lapine grandma warned him about with snow leopards. If so, it looked like he’d been caught.
Rotten Edifice
“Los! Los!”
A chorus of low growls rumbled out from the forest on many sides. At his signal, the Lightning Rune Tribe descended on another hamlet held by the Raiders. These wolves were no longer afraid of the green monsters. Sepp had done his best to rid his canines of their inferiority complex, and it showed.
The vengeful wolves leaped onto the towering monsters and tore into their skin while deadly projectiles flew out from within the dark woods, a place where the lumbering Greenskins slowly learned not to enter.
Sepp hoisted up his crossbow and took another shot that pierced a Raider locked into hand-to-hand struggle. The wolf landed on his paws as the monster fell onto the white floor. Since the Mauser was nearly out of bullets, ‘Master’ Sepp had switched to this new form of armament. An ax flew his way, and he ducked onto the ground while he watched his new ‘Kompanie’ in action.
As the chorus of yelps and screams got further away, Sepp and three others crawled on their bellies toward the outermost huts. He could see his two other groups finding the same success on the other side. Then there was a sound of footsteps coming their way. The ‘projectiles platoon’ stirred, ears flat back on their heads. Sepp reached out a hand,. One of the wolves handed him a ballistic arrow. In silence, the crossbow responded with a metallic click when he pulled a lever. Sepp took a breath, turned around and aimed the arrow at – It was Poetschke.
“It’s cleaned out,” Poetschke motioned them in, his bloodstained camouflage gleaming in the winter sunlight.
Sepp and his party followed Poetschke and turned a corner to see dead bodies strewn around the huts: Hulking green raiders lay in pools of congealed black. This time there were also tall, gray-skinned creatures with big front teeth. They were about as tall as the Raiders, but more slender. Like the Raiders, they also bled black.
“And what are those?” Sepp nudged a wolf and pointed to the gargoyle-like creatures.
“Never seen it before.”
“Well, go get Kasha and tell him to make sure our comrades get buried.”
“Jawohl Master Sepp,” the wolf replied crisply.
“Poetshke, where are the wolves of this village?” Sepp turned and asked the Sturmbannfuehrer.
“These ones stayed in their homes.”
“Bring them out, I’d like to get a look at them.”
Sepp picked an abandoned hut at the edge of the woods and finally sat down. Like most wolves, the previous inhabitants lived scantly. On the floor was a pallet of various furs, flint tools and a log to sit on. This would do. He set down his crossbow and went back outside. Re-organizing a freed village was a task he disliked, but such things needed to be done.
Outside, Poetschke and the others were pulling the wolves from their homes. Sepp looked on as the warriors shuffled the inhabitants toward the center. There were only a few men this time, and many of the women had bright red marks dotting their fur and skin. Not a one of them made any eye contact, just stared down at the ground.
“The further east we go, the more of this we’re going to see,” muttered one of the spear holders.
“Master Sepp! We caught one!”
Kristiyan came running up to his commander.
“We caught a raider hiding in one of the homes. Says he wants to talk to you.”
Two other wolves brought the green monster out of the hut. This one didn’t look much like the other warriors. He was quite a bit smaller than the others Sepp had seen.
“We don’t normally keep prisoners of your kind, so what can I do for you?”
“Ah,” the monster said in a raspy voice. He wasn’t dressed for combat, either.
“Me come here to send message to humans of, um, Rune Lightning Tribe. Oxbane, overlord of this land, he wanna see you. Say your tribe prove itself. He say Khanate willing to work with you. Have alliance.”
“Nice try, Grimeskin,” Kristiyan scoffed, “we’ll drive you east till you’re back in the hell you came from. We’ve already kicked in your door, now your whole rotten structure is falling apart.”
Sepp winced and shook his head Kristiyan before responding to the emissary.
“So. Where does this Oxbane fellow want to meet?” Sepp asked.
“Location in the middle. At the temple. Where the forest ends and gold grasses begin.”
Sepp looked to Kristiyan and asked if he knew the place in question. Kristiyan growled, “Master, he’s not worth—”
“We must at least hear them. Tell me. How far is it?”
“One days’ ride by your relic machine. Three days by feral equine,” Kristiyan said plainly.
“Fine. Tell this Oxbane of yours to give us a quarter moon.”
The green diplomat smiled at both of them through his pale green eyes.
“Alright. I will tell him so. Assume me free to go now?”
“Yes, go.”
The Grossdeutschland
Hans could feel Sarah snuggled against him and breathing on his chest. After he awoke she was still there, but that was no big surprise. Last night, Hans soon learned that Sarah was a virgin. It was easy to tell that Sarah was younger than the other girls he’d been with, and that she fell in love much more easily. Maybe that was what Hans needed, anyway.
He opened his eyes to watch her sleeping against his chest. The big pine tree was a nice shelter, and the warmth from Sarah’s body radiated onto his bare skin despite the winter air. He slid his hand down Sarah’s back and fondled her tail until she opened one eye at him.
“Good morning my love,” Sarah cooed up at him and groggily rubbed her head against his chest. They both closed their eyes again and laid there together until Hans wasn’t sure how long they’d been there.
“Baby?”<
br />
“Mmmhm?”
“Is this tree your home?”
Sarah blinked and stretched.
“Yes. I was born here. Some other animals try to take it from me but I defended it.”
Underneath his winter blanket he rubbed his foot against her hind paw, and she responded by doing the same.
“But you know us humans like to live in houses, right?”
“Hmm? What’s a house? Oh, that reminds me: I have to go out hunting today, right?”
Hans smiled at that news. “If you could, that would be great. I’ll go back to the forest while you do that. I saw some things worth harvesting on the way here.”
“Alright my love be safe.”
She climbed out of their sleeping bag and kissed him softly on the lips. He watched Sarah as she padded off into the snow. Hans lay back and stared up into the piney ceiling of their home.
Hans realized one thing: Slowly but surely, he was being pulled back to the life of a normal person. Since Belgorod, or maybe before then, terror overturned all his preconceptions and separated him from the normal human condition. Sarah was blotting those things out, and those things really needed to be blotted out. Maybe, by some way of providence, that was what these last few months’ journey was: A sieve, a filter between the life that was, and the normal life he had now. If so, maybe his journey had come to an end.
He stretched and slowly made his way up to face the bleak morning air. After months of trekking through the ‘North Continent,’ he’d gotten accustomed to foraging in the woods. That was what he intended on doing today. He dressed, strapped on his rifle, and made his way along a frozen river that meandered toward several patches of forest, fresh snow crunching beneath his boots.
“EYAAAAAAAAAH!”
It was Sarah. Something was attacking her. She didn’t seem too far away. Another feminine scream echoed through the snow. There was a small gray figure at a distance. While running, Hans loaded his weapon and fired a shot in its direction, which caused the animal, which now looked like some type of canine, to jump back.
As he sprinted ahead he saw that it was a wolf, and that it was standing over his mate. The wolf thrust himself to the ground, probably to avoid Hans’ gunfire. What the wolf didn’t know, was that Hans had no bullets left.
Once Hans got close, the wolf charged. This attacker was unarmed. It lunged at Hans with an animal strength and knocked Hans into the snow. But before the wolf could pin him, Hans clubbed the canine’s head with the rifle butt and sent him tumbling off. The wolf beat Hans to his feet and jumped on him, claw tearing into his bare shoulder, but Hans pointed the bayonet at the wolf’s belly and shoved it right in, getting a yelp from the attacker as he fell. Hans raised his rifle up and bashed the wolf’s head in with the butt, hitting him two, three, four times before turning to Sarah.
“Hans! Are you o-okay? I knew you’d come.”
Hans ran to her and she reached up, hugging him with one arm and covering her bleeding neck with another.
He took one look at her and knew it was bad.
“Hold on. Don’t move. I can fix this!”
He laid the Mauser across Sarah’s chest and sprinted back to the tree to dig through one of his packs. He took the medical pack and sprinted back to Sarah. The paw over her neck was soaked in blood, and it looked like she was trying to say something but couldn’t. Hans got out the gauze and circled it around Sarah’s neck. Despite not being designed for fur, the synthetic gauze worked surprisingly well on Sarah’s fur.
“Come on Honey, don’t talk. It will be OK now.” He placed gauze over his own shoulder wound, strapped the Mauser over his bare back and reached down to carry Sarah. He brought her back to the tree. All the while she reached up and clung to him as tight as she could.
“Don’t worry sweet heart. I’ll go out. Are there still fish in the river this time of year?” Hans was already strapping the gauze to his own wounded shoulder, wincing as he did.
Sarah nodded to him, still breathing heavily but in less pain. It seemed she would be alright for now, but he couldn’t know for sure.
“OK baby. Just stay right here. I’ll bring something home, soon. Don’t cry.”
Sarah watched him as he put down the gauze. He picked up a few things and Sarah’s eyes followed him as he walked toward the river. Hans had his work cut out for him. He sighed and went to work, tearing a stick off the icy branch of a snow-covered tree. He then unhooked his spade and dug into the hardened ground.
“Come on,” he grunted, clawing frantically into the soil.
Any effort to save his new mate wouldn’t amount to much if Hans couldn’t at least fish the frozen river. He’d have to get a lengthy stick, bait, and then cut through the ice to even begin fishing. As he dug into frozen chunks of earth he heard another series of growls behind him. Two wolves cornered him against the frozen river and barked aloud. Hans backed onto the ice and drew the bayonet yet again. Yet more of these wolves? Grandma told him there wouldn’t be any this far west!
The wolves both leaped at him and he felt their claws tear into his tattered uniform, the gauze, and then his flesh. In a second he was on his back. Hans pulled out his grenade. He was ready to die here. In fact, he should have died at Belgorod. This journey was, in many ways, as much as he could ask for. He’d pull the pin and kill both wolves so at least they couldn’t get to Sarah.
“Get back. Come on. His friends are coming I can smell them.”
The blows stopped and Hans felt their weight leave his body. He found it difficult to get up, and looked down to see that the wolves had re-opened his wound from before. Hot blood was seeping down his arm. Once again this desolate place was silent. The fishing hole was there, waiting to be used, but Hans would be unable to provide for Sarah today. Then his vision started getting darker.
“…Hey. Hey look! I found another!”
Hans heard someone shout in German, but it was a very strange accent.
“Hey! Hey Siptrott! Help me out I got a wounded one.”
More boots came crunching up to him. He felt someone put another patch on his shoulder and flank, then two people lifted him. They were moving.
“Can you believe it? This guy’s from the Grossdeutschland!”
Die Leibstandarte
The door kicked open and Hans heard a series of crashes. Then it got dark.
“Get the surgeon and clear a spot in the bunker!”
Above him he saw three people gathered in a semicircle. They were human, and German too. He felt his torn uniform being stripped off. Then the dressing on his shoulder was ripped at. Hans howled and cursed, but they paid no attention. He felt the sting of ether on the opened flesh of his shoulder. Then a new set of dressing was applied.
“Just avoid infection,” one of the men above said.
“You hear that, young man?”
Hans blinked and looked up at the man wearing a white jacket and black, army-issued surgeon gloves.
“Where are we? The North Continent? Or Deltia?”
The surgeon stared blankly at him.
“We’re not exactly sure, young man. Somewhere in Bavaria.”
Bavaria! Everything he’d swore was real must have vanished! Now he was back in his world. His new existence, his new life. Sarah. It was all just a dream. That’s all anyone would think if he ever spoke about it. But it was real, he was sure of that, even if he didn’t know exactly what it was.
“How is he managing?”
Another voice entered the dark bunker. The square-jawed man was wearing an officer’s uniform. The right armband read: Adolf Hitler. It was the Leibstandarte, the Fuehrer’s elite SS bodyguard turned combat unit.
“No,” Hans muttered.
Not only was he back in this world, but he was stuck with the most fanatical division of them all. Things were not looking good.
“Let me speak to him privately for a moment, Doctor Bruestle.”
The surgeon turned and marched back out to the snow.
“H
epner is your name?”
“Yes,” Hans said mechanically.
“I am SS-Sturmbannfuehrer Josef Diefanthal. You have some explaining to do, Gefreiter.”
Hans lay there in silence.
“We found you in the snow. But we’d like to know how a member of the Grossdeutschland wound up in Bavaria. Last we heard, your division was stationed in Memel.”
“Um.”
This SS officer would not likely be amused if Hans told him about the Furries.
“Herr Sturmbannfuehrer, I’d um, this sounds strange but, I was last in Belgorod. Under attack. I was about to die. It was really my time. Then, ah, I was in a dreamlike state, for a long time, and I awoke here.”
Telling the truth was the best way to do this. After all, desertion was a hanging crime.
“…I see. That’s interesting. And did you see a white light?”
“Yeah, ah, Jawhohl, Herr Sturmbannfuehrer.”
“Interesting. Anyway, let me explain the situation. The war is over. Americans are occupying this part of Germany. We are a resistance cell. The leadership of our division, as well as several combat groups, was sentenced to execution.”
So James wasn’t lying, it seemed.
“You aren’t required to stay with us. We only ask that you not divulge our location. However, it is my understanding that the Americans are killing everyone who has an armband, Wehrmacht or SS.”
Hans looked down at the ‘Grossdeutschland’ band resting on his right arm. He hadn’t thought much about the band since he got it, but so soon after waking up, he was forced to make a decision. He felt the weight of his old life crushing him again. If Sarah and all the rest were just a dream, his feelings definitely weren’t. But here it was. He was back from his dream, and now even his comrades were either dead or prisoners. Hans didn’t want to be here. The Leibstandarte were heroes. He was a nobody.
“I… do you mind, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer? I’m a little overwhelmed. I’d like to stay for awhile and think about this.”
Diefanthal came a little closer and glared at him. “I’d prefer uncommitted people like you to run off to the Americans, and out of our sight…”