Drowning in the East River (27 page)

David gently handed Thomas back over as she held out her arms for him. “I feel sorry for him then,” he replied, pushing his glasses higher on his nose.

Jessica held the baby up at her eye level, a bright smile spreading across her face as she looked at Thomas.“Yes, he has your eyes, and definitely your smile.”

David looked up, tickling his son’s chubby cheeks.

"Are you ready?" Jacqueline asked, taking a half step in the direction of the dining room door.

"As I'll ever be," David said. He took a centering breath as she pushed open the door into the dining room.

“Are you guys all right?" Callum asked, looking up at them. He glanced between David and Jacqueline, mild suspicion passing over his eyes.

"We're fine," Jacqueline replied. Looking back at David, she reaching out and took his hand inside of hers as they moved back towards the map. “How are things out here?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A bitter wind blew over the wide open plain. With the exception of the dense foliage on either side of the road, there was nothing to block the wind howling across the frosty, empty farmland just outside of Dublin.

"It's fuckin' freezing," Callum said. He braced his rifle on the ground. He blew into his hands, trying to bring himself a little warmth and return to circulation to his fingers.

"Should have done this in the summer," Aidan chimed in. He cracked a small smile, but the presence of nerves in his eyes was undeniable. His eyes were glued to the road through the trees. "Fuckin' weather.”

Callum glanced towards David. He kept his voice low as he spoke. "You doin' okay over there? You're awfully quiet.”

David forced out a soft chuckle and a centering breath as he continued. "I haven't been this scared in a long time." He stared down the sights of the rifle in his hand, hoping it would distract him from the waves of nausea pulsing through his system. If he'd eaten any breakfast, he probably would have vomited it up by this point.

"Probably a good time to say any last minute prayers, boys." Aidan called, pulling a set of rosary beads from his pocket. He closed his eyes and pressed the strand of beads to his lips. He closed his eyes, likely trying to hold onto the moment of inner tranquility.

"I've made my peace," David said, shifting his eyes back to the road.

David couldn't say if he envied or pitied the men for their faith. 16 years of Catholic school demonstrated that for those who believed, faith in God served as a tremendous comfort. However, there were no books or Bible verses telling you what to do when God had forgotten about you.

David looked down the line. Twenty men were a part of the ragtag brigade and had reported to help on that cold February day. When he had been staring down the prospect of a gun battle a few years earlier, at this point he had taken the snapshot of Jessica out of his pocket, reminding himself why he had to make it home alive.

Aidan replaced the rosary beads in his pocket and stood up from where he was stretched on the ground. In the blink of an eye, he morphed into a different man as he started down the narrow path which had been worn into the grass. He projected clearly, making sure he was heard by everyone. "Tá na fir tar tháinig i ár dtír , ionradh ár sráideanna agus mharaigh ár dteaghlaigh . Coinnigh do cinnirí suas deartháireacha , agus a ligean ar a sheoladh ar na bastards ar ais nuair a tháinig siad as!”

David managed picked up a few words of Gaelic since he had been in Ireland, but even without catching every word, he felt the passion behind them. The men surrounding him shifted their attention to Aidan, watching him with wide and emotional eyes. They believed every word.

"When is this convoy supposed to come through?" Callum asked, directing the question to no one in particular. He pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. The sun climbed ever higher in the sky, though it brought no heat to the bitterly cold morning. “I can barely feel my fingers.”

"Any minute now," Aidan replied, his eyes darted up and down the street as he searched for the convoy. His face looked completely calm, but his fingers were white knuckling the trigger of his rifle.

Silence fell over the hillside as the brigade laid in wait.

David stared at the ground in front of him. He closed his eyes, listening to the pulsating silence surrounding them. Even the air felt heavy with tension.

David shifted his glance to look at the pitch black night sky. His rifle lay at his feet, the bayonet dug into the ground where he had been etching pictures in the mud.

He closed his eyes, envisioning the men across the in void in the German trench, probably doing much the same thing as he was.

"What're ya doing over here, Freeman?”

"I had to get some air," David replied, shifting his glance over to the sergeant who had just emerged from the bunker. He had seen the boy around, but they had never really spoken. A military school boy, the officer looked barely out of his teens.

The boy, who's uniform said Collins, sat down next to him in the trench. Taking off his hat, he looked up at the stars and rang his hands nervously in front of him. "I couldn't breathe in there.”

"Claustrophobic?" David asked, suppressing a chuckle. "You're in the wrong place for that.”

"Fell in a well as a kid. Tight spaces give me fits.”

They glanced up as two mortars exploded in the sky, having been fired from the opposite trench.

"The Krauts are trying to send us a message," Collins said. He looked at the caked mud at their feet. He poked at a rock with his boot. "Wish we knew what it was.”

"Are they gearing up to attack?" David asked. He closed his eyes, trying to listen passed the silence.

"At some point," the young officer replied. He grabbed a helmet from a rack over his head, and glanced tentatively over the top of the trench. "They've been gearing up for something for the last few weeks.”

"They've been really active tonight," David said. His stomach gave a nauseating lurch.

"Where are you going home too, Freeman?" Collins asked. He dropped his head back down below the wall of the trench. He glanced over at David, taking a moment to wipe a layer of sweat from his forehead. He flashed a toothy smile as he continued. "Do you have a girl?”

David nodded, he dug in his pockets for a moment and produced his snapshot of Jessica. Handing it to the officer, he could feel himself blushing.  "That's her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Jessica.”

“Are you two going to get married?" He asked, taking a long look at the snapshot of Jessica. The picture was one of the few she had sent him during the long year he had been overseas.

"As soon as I get back home, I hope. “

"Where's home?"

"Brooklyn."

"I hope we all can get home," Collins said. There was a somewhat forlorn note to his voice, heavy with tension as he stood up and grabbed his musket.

It could have been ten minutes or two hours when they finally heard the rumbling of trucks moving south along the single lane, dirt road.

Pressing his rifle to his shoulder, David could hear the pounding of his heart in his ears as the adrenaline in his body surged, sending a quivering anxiety through his muscles. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to center his racing thoughts. 

He had heard the plan analyzed and reevaluated close to twenty times in the past week. The final approach of the convoy would be preceded by the explosion a land mine planted along the road.

David glanced over and made eye contact with Callum who sprawled on the ground a few feet to his left.

Callum looked over, meeting his eyes and flashed him a tense smile. “Are y’ ready for this?”

David did his best to return the smile, “As I’ll ever be.”

They lapsed into a few moments of deafening silence as they waited on bated breath for the explosion they knew would be coming.

"Fuck!" David said, as the explosion finally rang out, shattering the tranquility of the morning. They were immediately thrown back by the shockwave, sending the area into unrestrained chaos.

"Steady lads!" Aidan called out. His voice blurred with the panicked shouts of the British troops caught in the chaos of the explosion. Aidan picked up his rifle and ran down the line. He shouted out encouragement as he dropped to the ground further down. “Steady!"

Pops of gunfire exploded down the line, the first bullets immediately hitting their blindsided targets who crumpled to the ground, dead.

David pushed himself from where he laid and slid into better cover as he was able to fire off two quick shots.

David squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to steady his senses again the intensifying pop of gunshots. Between shots, the air was filled with indiscriminate shouts of the wounded on both sides.

David glanced to his left as he watched Callum slump onto the hillside, a pool of blood oozing from underneath his head. All around him, men on both sides collapsed as bullets whizzed through the air, hitting their targets indiscriminately.

Firing off another few shots, the momentum of the battle seemed to shift.

"Pull back!" Aidan called out. He kept his shotgun tightly to his body as he stood up, his eyes frantically scanning the landscape for the next move. His eyes were wide as he shouted again, fighting to be heard over the volume of the chaos. "Pull back and spread out!”

David picked up his musket and backed into the dense grove of trees behind him, firing three quick shots to give himself cover.

"After them!" Came the call from one of the British commanders as the few dozen soldiers who were still alive managed to bring themselves under control. "Don't let them get away!”

As David zigzagged through the dense grove of trees, he could hear an onslaught of activity following behind him. Moving through the trees, he paused. The path opened onto another quiet, rural road just across from County Dublin Field, one of the city's many, and biggest, cricket pitches.

He didn’t pause to think as he picked up his pace, and sprinted across the open road towards the field. The sun had climbed high in the sky, and he could see a cricket match had just gotten underway for the afternoon.

David kept his gun held tightly to his side as he zigzagged into the bustling cricket pitch. As he moved deeper into the field, his eyes scanned the crowd. The stands were packed with fans, many clad in green and white, the colors of the home club. He forced himself to adopt a restrained walk, not wanting to stand out in the crowd as he weaved further into the bustling crowd.

David ducked behind one of the bleachers as the pop of gunfire erupted somewhere across the field. As he dropped to his knees, he could feel Jessica’s rosary beads clacking in his pocket. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to center himself and calm his skyrocketing nerves. He needed to be silent, but he felt certain that the deafening pounding of his heart in chest would give him away.

For a moment, the revelry from the crowd continued as the gunshots grew louder. After a beat, blind panic spread over the cricket pitch, the audience stampeding for the exits in sheer terror.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

David pressed himself flat against the back of the aging and splintering wooden bleachers. Brushing an errant strand of hair out of his eyes, David scanned the chaos surrounding him. He dropped the pistol clutched in his hands, it landed with a thunk into the mud pooling underneath his feet.