Children of the Dusk (40 page)

Then the chimney appeared to fall away from the tree as though he were leaving the earth entirely, like the one time he had ridden in an airplane. The branches thinned out. Hunching his chest over a crotch of branches, he reached out and parted the foliage.

Perhaps it was the danger of falling and the vertigo--part of him wanted to step out and walk across the overstory, positive the sea of greenery would support him--but for an instant he felt closer to God than at any other time he could remember. Here where bromeliads bloomed like clusters of gemstones, the realm of God seemed more certain.

He moved downward until he reached a thick branch extending out over the chimney, and crawled out as far as he could without being seen. When the broad back of the sentry hunched over the machine gun atop the limestone chimney was directly below him, reality quickly cut him down to size.

Even given the element of surprise--assuming he managed to drop behind the guard before the man noticed him--the Nazi could probably overpower him easily. And even if that were not so, how was he to kill the guard?...throw him off the chimney? Go back and try to find the knife he had dropped?

Now that was a truly stupid idea, he thought, eyeing the bats that flitted around the knoll and envying them their ease of movement in the darkness. His lack of fear of the creatures surprised him.

The guard, apparently, felt differently. When one of them flew too close to his head, he stood up abruptly and waved it away.

Sol seized the moment.

He fell upon the guard, knowing now that he was capable of killing and that he was strong, far stronger than he had realized. He also had the advantage of surprise. Sol landed just behind him. The man turned, eyes registering shock, and swung a fist. Sol ducked, searching for a weapon--anything! He shoved the ammo box, heavy with machine gun belts, at the guard. The man grabbed the box. He stumbled backwards, lost his balance, and plunged over the side of the knoll into the forest below, his cry like that of a bird. The belts, still attached to the gun, uncoiled from the box as he fell.

That's another one down, Sol thought, acknowledging to himself how much easier anything, even killing, was the second time. Feeling only relief that the other man and not he had been disposed of, he gathered the belts and squatted behind the machine gun. Now all he had to do was to figure out how to use it, and how to wipe out the encampment without also wiping out the Jewish contingent.

Leaning on the gun, he stared at the compound until his attention was drawn toward the Zana-Malata's hut. In the glare of a searchlight, he saw Misha's small figure disentangle itself from the zebu-hide. It tore from the door-frame as he fell down the steps and stumbled away from the hut. There was a loud series of pops and within moments the hut was ablaze. A second figure emerged. Sol was shocked to recognize the huge form of the Kapo, staggering in a circle, his shirt aflame.

A siren blared and searchlights swept the area. Misha opened his hands. Immediately, a flame erupted from them. The boy froze like a mesmerized deer. There was a shot. The boy did not move.

"Run, Misha!" Sol shouted. He looked down at the machine gun. "Dear God," he whispered. "Show me how to do this."

And he began to fire.

F
rozen in the beam of the searchlight, Misha heard Herr Freund call out to him in warning from the top of the knoll.

Behind him, the Zana-Malata's hut crackled and roared as the fire set by the brazier sent sparks flying in all directions. Pleshdimer's dead, he thought. Dead, dead, dead! He felt no pang of conscience at having set the shack on fire with Pleshdimer inside it. If anything, he was sorry that it had been an accident, though no sorrier than he had felt when he'd discovered that the Kapo had, after all, not died at the hands of the major.

He could feel in his clenched fist the tanghin pit that had started the fire. Though he had no idea how the sorcery worked, he'd picked up the pit again before darting out of the hut, taking the syphilitic's magic and making it his own.

A shot broke through his hypnotic state. He looked up at the sentry tower, realized that they were shooting at him, and took a running dive into the closest bush.

Now what? he thought. He could go up to the crypt, where Bruqah had taken Miriam, but he had seen the Zana-Malata headed in that direction. The last thing he needed was punishment for having destroyed the syphilitic's home. He knew the major was in the mess tent because he had watched him go in there, but he wasn't about to go to
him
, especially after what he had done to Herr Goldman. As for Herr Freund, who was up there shooting, he was afraid to go to him in case he was hit by a stray bullet on the way.

The first searchlight went out, destroyed by the machine gun fire from the knoll. Crouching there, Misha thought about one of the stories his papa had told him--all about an ancient city somewhere in Palestine, near the Dead Sea. Just like here, the Jews were looking for a homeland. They had found a home in Jericho, by making the walls of the city come tumbling down so that they could go in--even if their enemies didn't want them to.

That gave him an idea; he was amazed that he hadn’t thought of it before.

He would go into the Jewish quarters, find the zebu horn that he had given Herr Goldman to use as a Shofar, and blow it. The fence that formed the Jewish sleeping area would tumble down--and the outside fence--and everyone would be free.

He parted the branches and peered at the compound. Ahead of him, and slightly to the left, he could see Herr Alois and the rest of the shepherds. The colonel was still dressed in Taurus' skin. He was hauling a section of the punishment cage.

Ignoring the spray of bullets from the knoll and from the sentry towers, Misha sprinted toward the dogs. As he ran, the American Negro song that his father had taught him rang softly inside his head, and in his mind's eye he saw the walls of Jericho come tumbling down.

K
eeping carefully within the jungle, Erich and his dogs circumnavigated the meadow. When they were near the ruins of Benyowsky's hospital, he found a vantage point which allowed him to observe Hempel without being seen.

The major, probably thinking that the pack was still chasing Sol, was returning triumphantly to the camp. The guards gathered around as he entered with the air of a conqueror. In a group, they ducked into the mess tent.

Erich looked around. The overhang of vermiliads and orchids would afford him and the dogs protection from the knoll and sentry towers, allowing them to get to the compound unseen.

He led the way. With the pack behind him, he dropped to his belly and crawled toward the fence.

The smell of smoke stopped them. Turning around, he saw a spiral of smoke coming from the Zana-Malata's hut, and watched as the shack burst into flames. He didn't have time to wonder who, if anyone, was inside, before he saw Misha run and stop, caught in the beam of the sentry towers' searchlights. He heard Solomon's shouted warning, and a burst of fire from the sentry station atop the knoll.

Misha scooted toward the bushes.

Spatz
! His
Spatz
! Solomon Freund...
wise friend
, Erich thought. Who would have credited him with the balls?

As the other sentry posts returned fire, Erich acted. He dragged part of the collapsed punishment cage over to a small natural cavity at the base of the fence. The other shepherds looked at him expectantly as he shoved the lashed bamboo under the fence to pry it up. One by one, they crawled forward as if to be petted, and passed safely beneath. He smiled when he saw that Misha was last in line behind them.

When they were all inside, Erich led the way to the area behind the supply tent, keeping to the shadows as the spotlights swept the compound.

The trainers could join him if they wanted to, he thought. Right now, all they had were empty dog runs. They could all be a unit again until the
Altmark
returned, at which time some if not all them might try to head back to Germany.

He would not miss them.

The shepherds were really the only friends he had left. His true friends.

My
friends, he heard the syphilitic call from the top of the hill. My Sagittarius, my Pisces, my Erich....

He put his hands over his ears and listened only to the pounding of his heart. Hempel and the guards had burst from the mess tent and were near the Panzer shooting toward the knoll.
 
Machine-gun fire spat from above them, and they dove to the ground.

Bullets ricocheted off the tank. One man screamed and fell, clutching himself. Hempel rolled behind the tank as another spray of bullets stitched a line toward him. A searchlight shattered. The remaining two swung chaotically from the sentry towers, searching for the enemy and finally realizing it came from one of their own positions. They fired toward the limestone chimney, and Solomon retaliated. A second light went out in response.

Misha and the dogs drew close as the guards opened fire on anyone and anything that moved. Erich put an arm for comfort around the nearest neck. Stay calm, he told them, though he knew he was incapable of taking his own advice.

Solomon fired a burst toward the generator, but hit the water tower, which was in the way. Water streamed from it.

Just shoot the spotlights, Spatz. Don't worry about the power! Erich thought.

He looked over at the Jewish quarters, knowing intuitively that Hempel's boys would have re-electrified the wire around the sleeping area while the major was down at the beach.

What he saw made him want to stand up and cheer.

The Jews had torn down the canopy that he had given them and thrown it over the fence. Four or five of them were beating down the wire with the poles that had held up the tent. Having broken the circuit, they poured over the fence. What was left of it buckled under their weight.

Solomon laid down peppery fire. The sentry towers fired back, and the guards near the tank blasted at the human wave heading toward them. The front line of Jews fell back, their agonized screams filling the night, only to have more Jews rush on.

Turning to Misha, Erich gave him quick instructions. "Go into the munitions tent. Open one of the small wooden crates marked
Granate
. It'll be on the right, near the entrance. Bring me a grenade. And be careful," he added as an afterthought.

Before he had finished the sentence, Misha was headed around the tent.

Erich and the shepherds followed, staying close to the canvas. He could see in the dark far better than his adversaries, and he was surprised to find himself without fear and also without bloodlust. He operated on animal instinct alone, but there was still the hunger with which to contend. He looked around, fearing the Zana-Malata's presence. He could feel the sorcerer's voice calling to him, but it was weak and distant. Then the voice was gone.

The dogs would not obey the syphilitic any more. Will they obey me? Erich wondered. He didn't know, but he had to try. Silently, he gave the command:
Zodiac.

The dogs fanned out. As if the animals had reversed roles and called out to them, the trainers moved from various points of the encampment to join their charges.

Ready
, Erich commanded.

The spotlight sighted the boy at the same time as the guard who had stayed his post outside the munitions supply tent.

"Kill him!" Hempel screamed.

"
No
!" Franz burst from the medical tent, flailing his arms as he ran. "Don't shoot the boy!"

A volley from half a dozen guards caught the corpsman with such force that he left his feet. When he hit the ground, his legs flopped toward his head and down again like a rag doll. His arms splayed out, his head turned at an unnatural angle, and blood ran in a jagged line from his mouth.

As if by silent command, all carbines snapped toward the boy, who stood motionless within the searchlight's glare. He had stretched out his arm. Elongated flames rose from his palm into the night sky.

"Shoot him!" Hempel screamed again, but no one moved. Erich could almost taste the fear and frustration in the major's voice. Where is your precious syphilitic now, he thought sarcastically.

Attack!
Erich mentally commanded Pisces and, trusting in the animal, jumped up in full sight of everyone. "Shoot
me
, you bastards! Kill a colonel!" he yelled.

"It's Alois!" someone shouted. "Dressed as a dog!"

Shooting started again. Solomon fired as the spotlight moved toward the new target. No more than a split-second later, Pisces was upon the man. As a rain of bullets took man and beast, the boy tore at the tent-flap ties and dashed inside. He emerged moments later holding two grenades.

"Here! Bring them here!" Erich yelled. "Roll them if you have to! We've got to blow up the generator!"

Misha started forward, half running, half staggering, then stuttery fire kicked up the dirt before him and he was running the other way, toward the power plant. He dropped one grenade and wheeled around to retrieve it, only to see the ground behind him erupt with bullets. He leapt and rolled. Erich saw him yank out the pin, and then the boy screamed as he charged, arm lifted.