A Reason to Fight | Schofield

7 | Divided

"So you found her chained to a pole in the German trenches?"

"Yeah."

"Jesus. I wonder what they did to her down there. Fucking bastards."

"I bet they didn't even feed her."

"Right, and that's the thing. She's been with me since this morning, but I don't even know how long it's been since she had anything to eat or even a sip of water. That's probably why she fainted."

"Well, just proves to me why women shouldn't be doing the heavy lifting."

"Shut up, mate. She did more bloody work on this truck than you did."

I began to awake to multiple voices that came and went as I floated in and out of consciousness. My head hurt like hell, and it was painful to open my eyes. I finally came to realize that I was laying on the floor of the truck, squished between the benches and surrounded by soldiers' shoes. But I still couldn't remember how I came to be here.

I groaned and lifted my hand to the back of my head, squinting my eyes open just enough to distinguish between faces. Memories came flooding back. The getting stuck. Getting out and lifting. Feeling weak and tired. The memories became fuzzy after that.

Schofield was over me in an instant, his voice soft in my ears. "Lynn, hey," he said, reaching down to grab the back of my neck and help me sit up. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," I replied, finally able to fully open my eyes. I was so weak that my whole body was trembling with exhaustion. I held up my hands in front of my face. They shook uncontrollably.

"You need food," said Schofield as he quickly rummaged through a pack on his webbing. He placed a couple of his rations in my hands. "Eat this."

Part of me wanted to refuse, to tell him to keep it, but upon seeing the food in my own hands, hunger overcame me. I quickly unwrapped the seal and bit into some kind of bread or biscuit. I didn't really care what it was, either way. It was food, and I was grateful. It didn't take me long to finish the first and move onto the second.

"Thank you," I said in between bites. Schofield said nothing, just watched me silently. I couldn't read the expression on his face to tell what he was thinking, but there was a certain kind of glow to his features that I had trouble placing. The edges of his mouth upturned into the slightest smile, but when I caught a glimpse of his eyes, deep down, I sensed sadness.

One of the other soldiers handed me his canteen. "Drink this. You need to hydrate. Apparently he's only got milk in his." Schofield rolled his eyes.

I took it in my hands and brought it to my lips, taking a long swig of water and letting it wash down my throat. I was tempted to drink the whole thing, but I wouldn't allow myself. The soldier was already generous enough to let me have just a sip.

I handed it back to him, wiping my face as I did so. "Thank you."

"Of course."

I turned to Schofield. "Erm. . . what exactly happened?"

"You passed out after we moved the truck," he explained as he helped me off the floor and back onto the bench beside him. "You probably exhausted your body."

"Lovely," I commented, leaning my head back against the wall of the truck and closing my eyes. "How long was I out?"

"Probably only half an hour."

I didn't have time to ask another question before the truck slowed to a stop. The soldiers groaned and made various exclamations of frustration. I sighed and sat up. Could we ever get a break?