CH 78

***

“Just ignore them. Where do you live?”

“…”

“I’m weird – no, I’m not.”

Annette walked away with her bag without responding. But the man continued to follow her and talk to her.

“You are really cute.”

Normally, “cute” as used in France meant something a little different than it did in Padania. It didn’t mean literally cute, but rather that the man was attracted to her.

“Give me your address. I would like to write to you.”

“I don’t know if my house is still intact……. there are bombers that flew in from your country.”

Annette replied coldly. Then the man turned his head and asked.

“Yes? Can you say that again?”

Despite Annette’s constant cold adherence, the man continued to follow along and ask a variety of questions.

“I like Padania. I learned the language. It’s a shame that this is the reality.”

“…”

“All the women of Padania are beautiful and kind. So are you. Catherine.”

“…”

“By the way, do you have a boyfriend?”

“……Can you stop following me?”

Eventually, Annette was able to get away from the man after she gave him a note with a home address. It was a made up address, of course.

“Goodbye, I’ll write you a letter! Be careful!”

Annette hurriedly left the place.

***

The further into the suburbs, the more dire the condition of the city became.

Huntingham, which at one time had been called a city of transportation on the trade routes through the river, was reduced to ashes. It was truly a gray city.

All the buildings were destroyed by bombs, leaving only their skeletons. The ruins, shrouded in a hazy mist, looked like one of a long-dead city.

Sometimes she could imagine the people in the houses whose ceilings had been blown away. Their faces were uniformly expressionless.

Annette thought of Cynthia as she looked at this miserable scene. Even though she tried not to think of it, she couldn’t help but remember.

‘…Does Cynthia look like this?’

Of course, it would not be as bad as Huntingham, where the battle was practically fought, but the devastation of the bombing could only be similar.

Annette painted the Grott family home with only its skeleton. She herself did not know why she was having these terrible thoughts.

The defense mechanism of having to assume the worst was invariably triggered. She went through several assumptions, then gave up as she felt sick to her stomach.

“Oh, here you go! Excuse me! Please accept the child!”

Once a family found an ally, they tried to hand over their child. They thought it would be safer to leave him in the hands of the military.

“I can’t take it! You must leave them in a facility outside the city! We can’t take anyone!”

“I can’t leave the city! Please! Just one child!”

The parents forcefully tried to hand the child over to the soldiers. Realizing that he was being entrusted to a stranger, the child turned and called for his mother.

The soldier, who was forced to hold the child in his arms, handed him back again, playing with reason.

“Really, no. I can’t take him! It’s not that kind of situation!”

“Then let the nurses…………!”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have the extra personnel either! It will be more dangerous if you go with us.”

Eventually, the child returned to his parents again. The child, cradled in his father’s arms, cried, screaming with a mixture of relief and resentment.

The father kissed the child’s forehead with hot tears. His face and hands were dirty and scarred, covered with black ash.

The rescuers left the scene behind and continued walking. Someone among those who were moving asked.

“When will the war end?”

And someone answered.

“When they all die, it will be over forever.”

After dark they arrived safely at the church. The outer wall was slightly broken, but the church building remained intact and survived the fire.

The church’s location was not yet completely occupied by enemy forces. However, it was only a matter of time before it was occupied because the enemy was very close by. They had to move fast.

Officer Miller peered inside the church with his index finger on his lips. Then he signaled to come in. Four soldiers quietly entered the building.

They were followed by military doctors and nurses. There were a considerable number of people in the chapel, including a few soldiers, who had been hiding here.

Their faces brightened when they saw their allies.

“Oh my God, you’ve come to save us!”

“Thank you, God……..”

“Shhhh, lower your voice. We only treat the severe wounded and move on.”

Officer Miller ordered promptly. Military doctors and nurses hurriedly unloaded their gear and began treating the wounded.

Annette approached an old woman holding her young grandson. There was dried blood on the old woman’s clothes.

She asked Annette with a rough voice.

“Are we able to get out?”

“Soon. I will check your wounds.”

The grandson held his breath with frightened eyes, still clutched to his grandmother’s arms. Annette said as she gently stroked her child’s cheek.

“I’m going to check your grandmother’s condition, can you move for a minute?”

The child rolled his big eyes this way and that and hesitantly got out of his grandmother’s embrace. Annette smiled at his good behavior.

While the inside was being sorted out, the other soldiers stood guard and a communication officer reported the situation.

“Bravo 3, this is Eagle 9, our current position is as follows. Delta, Shackle, Lima, Shackle, Alpha, Foxtrot—“

“Those who can move on their own, move on their own; those who need help, speak separately. Move quickly.”

Officer Miller whispered, his voice low. Annette carefully cut the thread that sutured the wound. At that moment, the sound of a military vehicle rattling came from outside the church building.

Everyone held their breath in unison.

The sniper who had been up in the church attic lowered his head and signaled with his hand. Officer Miller and the soldiers’ expressions hardened terribly.

The wounded soldiers who were being treated also grabbed their guns. Annette put down the scissors and quietly embraced the child.

Officer Miller, who had crouched near the entrance, beckoned down. The soldiers then beckoned to the civilians.

They all got down on the floor and lowered themselves. Annette pulled the child’s head to her chest and held her breath.

The surroundings were so quiet that she could even hear the needle drop. Suddenly a light shone through the chapel. It seemed to be a flashlight shining through a window outside.

Annette made an effort not to tremble. She was afraid that my nervousness and fear would be transmitted to the child. It would be dangerous if the child started to cry under the circumstances.

The flashlight that seemed to illuminate many parts of the church for a while soon withdrew. It was quiet outside. People’s relief could be felt silently.

Bang!

At that moment, a gunshot shattered the window. At the same time, someone screamed.

Ahhhhh!!!!!!

A shooting followed. The horrifyingly quiet interior of the church was soon filled with commotion. It was impossible to distinguish what shots were friendly and what shots were enemy.

Annette clutched the child tightly and crawled shakily into a corner. The child did not cry and gave a small giggle.

“…!”

Officer Miller shouted something, but it was drowned out by the gunfire. No, it felt like everything was far away as their ears were muffled by the loud shots.

Annette desperately searched for God at this moment. Help us, save us, hide us……… The urgent prayers came out mixed.

The shooting went on for quite some time. It was not known how things were going.The commotion, which seemed to never end, calmed down before long.

“Ah.”

Someone let out a sound that  

couldn’t be distinguished if it was a groan or a sigh.

Annette opened her tightly closed eyes. Through her blurry vision, she could vaguely see a white statue of a saint on one side of the chapel.

Even in the chaos, the statue of the saint seemed infinitely sublime and holy. She bit her lips. It was that saint who had been depicted in the mural in the dinner room of the Rosenberg residence.

‘Saint Marianne…….?’

Her senses began to blur. Old memories bubbled to the surface. For a brief moment, Annette walked through a moment in the past when everything was as perfect as a still life.

The fence of the mansion was guarded by a chain of tangled vines, the beautiful rose garden, the delicate marble staircase, and the lion statues that guarded either side of it.

The ivory-colored columns that supported the mansion, the numerous doors in rows, the spacious banquet hall and the murals carved on the story-high ceilings, and…….

Bang!

The church door burst open. The heavy footsteps characteristic of military boots rushed in. The eerie awareness brought Annette back to reality.

Several gunshots rang out. Someone collapsed and coughed. Annette wanted to raise her head to check, but the moment she did, a bullet  flew past her head.

Soon the interior was completely silent. The sound of one soldier’s boots echoed in the stillness. The opponent muttered.

“The rats have been hiding here.”

***