This beast. He would not get out. She wouldn’t let him. She would make him pay for what he had done. “Mei Mei.” She lit the lighter in her hand. “I avenge you now.” With one swing, she chucked the lighter into the pool of kerosene by her feet.
Instantly, the flame burst. The waft of heat thrust her back. A ball of fire consumed the doorway. Behind the flares, Tang Wei’s figure disappeared. Heaving her chest, Wen-Ying watched him burn.
Another voice called her name. “Wen-Ying!”
Startled, she looked up. “Takeda!”
What had she done?
“Takeda!” she cried at the top of her lungs. His face appeared and disappeared through the small opening between the flames. A face of shock and total loss of hope.
“No!” Wen-Ying shrieked. “Help!” She cried again. “Help!” She stepped forward, but could not break through. The wall of fire was sealed. No one could pass.
A wave of dizziness staggered her. Her legs weakened, she kneeled to the ground.
Behind her, Huang Jia-Ming and Zhang Yu-Lan ran to her side. “Wen-Ying! Wen-Ying!” They helped her up.
“Takeda!” She pointed at the burning door. “He’s still inside.”
Huang and Yu-Lan widened their eyes. Panic seized their faces.
“Takeda!” Wen-Ying cried out again.
Huang looked at the door, then at her. “We have to go.” He grimaced and tossed his head at Yu-Lan. “The getaway car is waiting. We have to leave.”
“Wen-Ying.” Yu-Lan pulled her by the arm. “Let’s go.”
Wen-Ying could not think. The fire had sapped every bit of energy out of her body. The rage that consumed her before had burned out, and pain was all that was left. Raw, searing pain as she had never felt in her life.
Propping her up by the arm on each side, Huang and Yu-Lan pulled her toward the silent vehicle waiting across the street in the dark.
Sirens wailed as they dragged her away. In a stupor, Wen-Ying turned back her head. “Masao,” she whimpered. Useless tears rained down her face. “Zheng-Xiong,” she repeated his name. “Zheng-Xiong.”
But he could not hear her. He would never answer again no matter what name she called him.
The fire continued to burn. The villa, once grand and illustrious, now glowed like a giant inferno, basking in its last triumphant light. Helpless, Wen-Ying gazed up. High above in the sky, the moon beamed, casting her own shadow over her path. Her feet followed, but the shadow remained forever one step ahead.er
Chang ‘e, that daring heroine who made the impulsive move to drink the elixir of immortality to thwart the treachery of Feng Meng. That celestial goddess who ascended the heaven to chase the moon, leaving behind her love Hou Yi to chase her shadow for all his remaining days. What words of wisdom would she give to those who must follow her path, when soul-shattering sacrifices must be made for the night to restore its peace for the days and years ahead?
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— The End —
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The Moon Chaser is a spin-off story from the Shanghai Story trilogy, a WWII drama saga based on Clark Yuan, Wen-Ying’s older brother, and Eden Levine, the Jewish refugee from Munich who escaped to Shanghai with her family. To find out more about Shanghai Story, visit: https://alexakang.com/shanghai-story
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*Author’s Note: To see a mask changing performance after a Chinese feast, watch Anthony Bourdain’s Parts Unknown, Season 8, Episode 3, when he visited Sichuan with Eric Ripert.
About the Author
Alexa is the author of a WWII and 20th century historical fiction author. Her works include the novel series, the Rose of Anzio, a love story saga that begins in 1940 Chicago and continues on to the historic Battle of Anzio in Italy. Her current series, Shanghai Story, chronicles the events in Shanghai leading up to WWII and the history of Jews and Jewish refugees in China. Her other works include the WWII/1980s time-travel love story Eternal Flame (a tribute to John Hughes), as well as short stories in the fiction anthologies Pearl Harbor and More: Stories of December 1942, Christmas in Love, and The Darkest Hour.
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Alexa grew up in New York City and is a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania. She has traveled to more than 150 cities, and she loves to explore new places and different cultures. Her favorite period fiction includes “Romeo and Juliet”, “Gone with the Wind,” “Ana Karenina”, “Titanic”, “Downton Abbey”, “Love in the Fallen City,” and “The Crown.” Alexa loves larger-than-life love stories, and hopes to bring you many more.
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You can contact Alexa at:
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Website: www.alexakang.com
Email: [email protected]
Enemy at the Gate by Mary D. Brooks
Synopsis
ENEMY AT THE GATE
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Misery and death surround Zoe in war-ravaged Greece. Zoe’s mission is to save Jews and help Allied soldiers escape certain death. Zoe refuses to cower, to surrender or lose hope. The choice is clear… it’s freedom or death.
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It’s 1941 and the shadow of tyranny has laid claim to Zoe Lambros’s Greek homeland. Zoe is a determined thirteen-year-old who wishes to join in the resistance to free Greece from occupation. Zoe is given an opportunity to join the Bouboulina resistance cell in a clandestine operation to liberate the convoys of Jews that are being sent to their deaths. For Zoe, there is no turning back, because what’s left is either freedom or death. Zoe is determined to do her part to help Allied soldiers and Jews escape Nazi-occupied Greece.
Chapter 1
April 16, 1941
They’re here. Their guns are so loud that I initially thought it was thunder, but I could hardly see the stars through the window in the loft where I’ve been since the battle started raging. The stars have virtually disappeared behind the smoke. The war had finally arrived, and I could hear the cannon shells exploding in the hills – loud explosions tearing at the cliffs and at our lads, who are engaging them. We all knew this day would come. The talk of the village was about when the Germans would get to us.
Did we expect anything else? The Italians tried to invade us. Metaxas said OXI! How is saying ‘No’ going to stop Mussolini? They tried to bully us, but our boys pushed them back to Albania. Little Greece pushed back the arrogant Italians. Take that, Mussolini!
I remember the day that would change my life forever. Earlier that morning, I had finished my chores and got on my bicycle and headed for the river. Papa had workers out in the fields, and Mama was back in the farmhouse cooking for the Australian soldiers who were staying with us. The laborers waved to me as I rode past and I could hear singing ringing out from the fields.
The threat of war with the Italians was over. We had won. I could now draw again and had much to show my brothers when they returned from the front lines. They promised me they would come back, and I had to have the drawings finished. Michael, Thieri, and Theodore were big, strong men, and I loved them dearly, but they could be annoying. It didn’t matter. I missed them and wanted them home.
A promise is a promise is what we vow in the Lambros family. It means if we promise to do something, it will be done because we gave our word. Papa says that a promise made is like a promise you make to God. You can’t renege on a promise to God.
My stay beside the riverbed didn’t last long as the weather started to cool, the wind picked up and the air smelt of impending rain. The sky turned a deep purple, and dark clouds hovered in the distance. Little did I know that it was an ominous sign of the darkness that would envelop my heart. I raced the storm clouds, and just as I reached the farmhouse, I saw our village priest, Father Haralambos, enter the house.
Father H was here. What did he want? Maybe he was here for dinner with the Australian soldiers. It had been a while since we had a big feast. As I entered the house, I knew it was bad news that brought the priest to our home. Papa wore his best coat, which he only wore on Sundays to go to church. He didn’t wear
it as he usually did, but it was draped over his shoulders instead, as if it was a cloak. That was never a good sign. Papa only wore it on his shoulders when someone in the family died. At first, I thought it was my grandmother Maria. She’s over a hundred, and if anyone were going to die, she would be the one. However, she wasn’t dead because she was wailing in the corner. I hadn’t seen her because my attention was focused on my father.
Mama was crying and hanging on to my papa. My father was a tall, sturdy man, but he looked so tiny as he hung on to Mama. I had never seen my father cry before. I didn’t want to ask who had died.
Father Haralambos saw me and got up to meet me. He was wearing his black flowing robes and that giant crucifix that looked so heavy. His blue eyes looked into mine and I could see the sorrow. Papa saw me and came to me. He took my hand and led me to the sofa where I sat down with him.
“We have some terrible news…”
“Who died?” I asked and reached out to touch his cheek. Tears filled his eyes, and even his upturned mustache looked to be drooping. “Whoever died is now with God.”
“My darling child. God has called your brothers home…”
No. That wasn’t right. No. I didn’t believe it. God had promised that my brothers were going to come home. That’s what Father H said. God PROMISED that he would keep the Greeks safe. My brothers promised they were going to come back from the war.
A promise is a promise. You can’t break that promise. You’ve made a covenant with God.
God broke his promise. Little did I know then that God breaks many promises.
I had never had my heart shattered into a thousand pieces until that day. My heart felt as if a knife had sliced through it. How could this be? My brothers were dead? No, there had to be some mistake.
There was no mistake. That was three months ago, and now we are facing the Germans. They have invaded my home and are at the door. I overheard Papa say that the enemy was at the gate. He was right. The Australian soldiers are here and fighting for our freedom, and we must support them.
I try to comfort our horse, Zeus, because the noise is scaring him. I’m scared too as I look up into the heavens and close my eyes. I pray to God for victory and promise him that if he helps us, I will do my chores without question and I will do what is asked of me. I didn’t expect an answer right away. Father Haralambos always says that God doesn’t answer your prayers as soon as you ask him.
“Loud night for you, Zeus,” I said after I finished my prayer to God.
The horse shoved his head towards me, and I giggled at the animal's playful nature. “I'm absolutely certain that the Germans will be defeated. We defeated the Turks in 1821, then the Italians. Now it is the Germans who will feel the full force of our brothers… God is on our side, and as Father Haralambos often says in church, ‘If you have God on your side, you don't need anyone else.’”
A thunderous explosion made me jump as the noise reverberated through the night. “Oh, that must have destroyed several of those Germans tanks.”
“Zoe, come inside, child,” my mama called out to me and soon joined me. I looked up to find her green eyes were glistening. She had been crying again.
“It’s all right, Mama, God is on our side. I think we are winning. Listen to those rockets. That's the Allies—they are winning, and we are beating those horrible Germans like we beat the Italians!”
My mama’s gaze turned to the mountains, and she sighed. “God willing, we will all come out of this alive.”
“We will. Father H said we have God on our side and that means we will win.”
“Don't call the reverend ‘Father H.’”
“Why?”
“It's not respectful. Father Haralambos is a man of God, and we should show him respect.”
I didn’t think to call him Father H was disrespectful. “I don't think God is going to mind.”
Despite my mama’s tears, she laughed. I missed hearing that beautiful laugh. She kissed the top of my head. “You are going to give me a lot of grief as you grow older, but I love you.”
“I love you too,” I replied putting my arms around her waist. “Why is Zeus outside? All this noise is scaring him.”
“Papa is going to hitch the wagon to Zeus, and we are going to Thieri's cabin.”
“Now? Are we going to watch the battle from Athena’s Bluff?”
“Yes. I want you to come inside and help pack.”
“Why are we going to Thieri's cabin? Why aren’t we staying here?”
“It’s not safe here, Zoe. Don’t ask so many questions.”
“If I don’t ask questions, how will I find out anything? You keep telling me that I need to ask if I want to find out.”
“We don't have a lot of time.” That’s all Mama said and went back inside after she kissed me on the head.
“I don't know why we are going to Thieri's cabin, but we will be seeing the Germans being routed. I love Athena's Bluff, Zeus. We will have a perfect view of the Germans from up there.”
Athena’s Bluff was where my brother Thieri had built his home. It was a cabin fit for a king, he would say. The view from the outcrop was of Tempi Valley, and you could see Mount Ossa in the distance. One day I’m going to see what’s beyond Mount Ossa after I visit Sparta. That’s where my parents were born, and I want to go to Sparta and Athens.
That day was not going to be today. I patted the horse one more time and walked back to the farmhouse. When I entered the living area, there were blankets piled high on chairs and on the sofa, and two suitcases sitting near the kitchen.
I navigated around the suitcases and entered the kitchen. The smell of homemade bread permeated the room. Five loaves were cooling on the table, and another two were in the oven. Mama had taken out pickled vegetables that were stored in jars from the pantry. Before I had a chance to ask what was going on, she gave me a white bed sheet which had been ripped into long strips. “Take these to Papa and tell him I’ll be ready in about thirty minutes.”
I collected the makeshift bandages and quickly walked the short distance to my room. It felt strange to knock on my own door, but I did and entered. Lying on my bed was an Australian soldier, Jimmy Peterson. His right trouser leg had been torn from the knee down, and a large bandage was wrapped around his lower leg. I saw some blood, which made me a little sick to my stomach.
My papa was the tallest of the men that were around the bed. When he saw me, the edges of his brown eyes crinkled in delight. Sitting next to him was Apostolos Kiriakou, my brother Theodore’s best friend and the doctor. Next to Apostolos was another Australian soldier. They had been at the farm for the last three days trying to get their friend well enough to travel. Sergeant Clarence spoke Greek but with a bizarre accent which was funny.
Papa stood and took the bandages from me. “I’m so proud of you. You have been a big help to our guests, and God will reward you for your loving spirit. Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid, Papa. Our friends and our brothers will beat them back to where they came from, won’t you, Sergeant Clarence?”
“We will win, little sister.”
“God willing, we will be victorious,” Papa said and kissed me on the cheek.
“Mama said she will be ready in thirty minutes.”
“Good. Now I’m going to change the bandages. Why don’t you take Sergeant Timmins and help him load the wagon?”
“All right,” I said and waited for the soldier to join me before we left the room. Sergeant Clarence greeted Mama before he picked up the blankets and we headed outside. It didn’t take us long to get the wagon ready.
“So how is the picture coming along?” Sergeant Clarence asked me as he sat down on an upturned bucket near the barn.
“Drawing!” I corrected him and laughed at how he got the word wrong. “How did you learn Greek?”
“My grandmother is Greek.”
“Where is she from?”
“She was from Constantinople, and when they threw them out, she went to
Egypt.”
“Is that why you have a funny accent?”
Sergeant Clarence laughed. “No. That’s my Australian accent. My grandmother met my grandfather, who is an Australian, and they went to live there.”
“Say something in Australian?”
Clarence gazed down at me and then smiled. “Bonzer sheila,” he said. I was confused as I didn’t know what he had said, but he translated it. “You are an excellent young woman.”
“Bonzer sheila,” I repeated, and it made no sense to me, but I liked how it sounded.
“You should come to Australia, ZoZo.”
I laughed when he called me that nickname. He must have overheard Papa calling me that. “I want to see what’s out there beyond Mount Ossa.”
“At the moment, a lot of bad men.”
“After you defeat the bad men, I want to come to Australia and see that bridge... oh,” I said and then remembered I had something for him. I fished around in my pocket and brought out the photograph that Clarence had given me. I raced into the barn and came back with my sketchbook. Flipping through the pages, I found the artwork for the Sydney Harbour Bridge. “This is for you.”
Clarence took it and smiled. “Wow, this is beautiful. Can I keep it?”
“You like it? Yes, you can keep it.”
“One day you are going to be a great artist. I will take you to this bridge.”
That’s all we had time for, because Papa and Apostolos came out of the house. They loaded supplies onto the wagon and put a blanket and hay to cushion the ride for the wounded soldier. It looked like Papa was going to go with them and I didn’t want him to leave. There was much to do at the cabin.
“Papa, are you going with them?”
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