The gun fell from Kat’s cold fingers. Lips twisting with hideous glee, the man slammed the handle of the knife into Barrett’s stomach. Barrett doubled over on the ground wheezing for air.
“Treten die waffe weg.” Evil intent shook the deserter’s body with each step he took toward her.
Barrett groaned and rolled to his side. Blood drummed in Kat’s ears. Her eyes fell to the ground, searching for anything. The tip of the bayonet gleamed next to the sparking fire. Neck, bicep, stomach, groin, kidneys. Target spots. She’d told Barrett she couldn’t do it, but the man stalking toward her forced the exception. He reached his filthy hand toward her.
Dear God. Give me strength. His hand inches from her neck, Kat squatted and grabbed the bayonet, stabbing it upward into his belly with as much force as she could draw. The blade pierced skin, tissue, and organ like a knife through butter. Warmth spurted through her fingers.
He veered back, his ugly mouth parted in surprise as he fumbled for the blade sticking out of his kidney. She clutched her trembling hands to her chest. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as the man gurgled to his death.
Swiping at her eyes, she pushed to her feet and swayed as dizzying dots crowded the corners of her brain. Movement by the tree sent the dots scurrying. Barrett grabbed the dark-haired man’s knife and rolled to his feet in one swift motion to slice the blade across the soldier’s neck. The deed done, Barrett’s knees buckled, driving him to the ground.
Kat sprang toward him. Taking the knife, she sawed through the rope binding his hands and caught them between her own. Red and raw, but skin unbroken. Shaking beyond control, her hands clambered up his arms, across his bare chest, up the sides of his neck, and across the broad planes of his face. Tears scorched her throat and eyes. “Are you all right? Barrett, are you hurt?”
“Besides all the blood and a possible broken nose?”
She grabbed his face and pressed her mouth to his, hard and possessive. “Yes, besides those. Stupid man, what were you thinking?”
He raised a hand to her cheek, rubbing a thumb roughly across her cheekbone. “About you, daft woman.”
The fire popped and hissed behind them as the copper-haired man tried pushing to his feet. Blood streamed down the back of his neck, staining his filthy jacket to black. Barrett swooped down and pulled a pistol from the belt of the dead man at his feet. With his free hand, he pressed Kat’s face into his shoulder.
Bam.
Barrett tossed the gun. “Let’s get out of here before someone decides to come investigate the gunshots.”
“We should keep that pistol.”
“If we get caught with a German officer’s Luger in our pocket, it’s a death sentence for sure. Likely these filth stole it themselves.”
Not bothering to turn her head to see the deadly damage behind her, Kat wound her arm around his waist. He tried pulling away. “Don’t. My blood.”
“Too late for worrying about ruined clothing now.” She tucked him closer, caring not at all if he bled all over her blouse. She had him alive, and that was all that mattered.
“Where’s your sister?”
Kat pointed as they picked their way back through the trees she’d come from. A night sky of dusty blue and smoky stars barely lit the fields stretching before them. “A few hundred yards that way. I didn’t want her to . . . This would be too much for her.” More tears scorched her eyes, clogging the back of her throat as the past few minutes rushed over her senses like a tidal wave. “I killed those men.”
Barrett hugged her close. “We’ll deal with that later. There’s a small crossroads about an hour’s walk from here. Should be a few towns near enough to find food, maybe shelter for the night.”
She reached up to attempt pulling the cut ribbons of shirt back into place. He winced and pressed a hand to his side as red seeped through the cloth. She tried prying away his fingers. “What’s happened here?”
He shook his head as his pale lips twisted into an unconvincing smile. “Naught but scratches, poppy.”
Tall grass brushed her waist as they picked their way over the uneven ground beneath their feet to where Ellie waited. “No, Barrett. What happened back there was more than scratches.” Her arm tightened around him as she looked up, her gaze locking into his. “Much, much more.”