James Chase - Get a Load of This

Holtz fired a furious burst through the thicket and then shouted down to Dedos, but no one answered him. “I think they have Dedos too,” he said to Castra. “It is well that Pablo’s army didn’t attack in the first place. These men are very good.”

Castra didn’t hear him. He had died very quietly just before the grenade had exploded. Holtz turned his head to look at him, and as he realized that Castra was dead the sound of something falling at his feet made him jerk round.

A long, black grenade lay close by him. It had been very skilfully thrown through the hole in the shutter and now it lay there within a few feet of him. He had no time to flatten out or make any effort to protect himself. The word ‘Nina’ came to his lips, but he hadn’t time to say the word before the grenade exploded.

He was conscious of a bright yellow flash and a lot of noise. Then he sat up on his elbow and stared at the Lewis gun that had fallen over on its side again. He had been thrown right across the room and his hand rested on the spongy pulp that had been Castra’s face. Shuddering, he jerked his hand away and tried to get to his feet. As he moved, a wave of pain lurched into him, cutting his breath and bringing a scream fluttering in his mouth.

He held himself very still. Down the front of his tunic he could see a number of blood-stained little holes and he knew that his chest had been riddled with small splinters of shrapnel.

He lay on his elbow, waiting for the pain to go away. As he lay, he said in a low, sobbing whisper, “Look what they have done to me, Nina.” Then, because he was alone, hurt and rather frightened, he began to call to Nina as if she could hear him.

The pain that kept lurching in and out of his chest finally brought him to his senses, and he suddenly remembered the patrol outside. They would be coming to the farmhouse in a moment or so, to make sure that they had killed him. He must get the gun into position and settle them once and for all.

He knew that it would hurt if he moved, but he mustn’t mind a little pain, he told himself. Come along, he said to himself, come along. Now, move your arm. Sit up slowly. That’s right. Hell! It does hurt, doesn’t it? Hell! Hell! Hell! He began to cry, but he got his body upright and turned on to his hands and knees. Blood began to drip from his chest on to the floor. He remained like that for several seconds, his head hanging, almost touching the floor. Then he crawled slowly over to the gun and sat down heavily beside it.

The pain took hold of him with steel fingers and ripped into him savagely. A feeling of nausea brought him out into a cold sweat, but he took hold of the gun and dragged it into position. The movement made him lean over the gun and vomit. He was aware only of thinking how glad he was that Nina couldn’t see him now. How shocked and horrified she would have been. He pulled the gun carefully round so that the sights covered the road, and then he eased his body against the gun. Sooner or later they would come. If they waited until dark, it didn’t matter, because Cortez would be too far away. If they came now, he would be able to stop them. Yes, it was going better than he had hoped.

How are you, Nina? What are you doing now? You really mustn’t worry about me, because I am quite all right. You might not think so, if you saw me, but I am really. It is dying alone that frightens people. To be left quite alone. I can understand it, can’t you? But I am not alone. I have never been alone since I met you. You are here in my head and my heart and I am not afraid to die. It is you that I grieve for, because you will be left. If you have loved me as I think you have, you should not be alone either. I shall be with you long after I have ceased to walk and talk and laugh with you. Nothing can really part us, not after the things we have done together, and the nights we have spent together.

I hope the General is kind when he tells you. That will be the worst moment, but when you are alone again, you mil find that there is no pain that is too great to bear. You will have courage because if our love has meant anything at all it will be as a shield in your hour of need.

You won’t have regrets, will you? I don’t think you will, but I should be very unhappy if you did. No, there must be no regrets. We must be satisfied that we were happy and we have always been kind to each other. That is so very important, isn’t it? You can look back on our life together without any reproach. You have denied me nothing, and I know that I also, so far away from you and so soon to die, have been steadfast to you. I hope you don’t hear about the gun, but that is the way of war. You die so seldom for what you are fighting. War is made up of errors and pride and rashness. If Generals are proud or make mistakes, they have tomorrow to try again. So I hope you don’t hear about the gun, which was very silly to die for.

I know you will be lonely. That is a very sad word. I know how I should be if you were taken from me, but that is the price you have to pay for the past, which was so lovely.

And, Nina, thank you for everything. Yes, really thank you. I am so grateful for what you have given me, and this I promise you. There will come a time when we shall meet again. It may be years and years, but it will come, and we shall be together again. We shall be able to take up our love again. We shall find that our love has not rusted even from your tears. And when we meet again, let life be free from war and hate and uncertainty and distrust. You will not find me changed. So be patient, and although the wait may be long, it will come right in the end. I know it will come right, and because I am so sure, I am not frightened any more.

Two of Pablo’s men appeared cautiously from the thicket and looked up at the farmhouse. Holtz watched them through a haze of pain. Come along, he said softly, all of you. Not just two, but all of you. It is quite safe for you because we are dead in this house, so come quickly and keep very close together.

Three others seemed to materialize out of the ground and the five of them stood hesitating, their rifles advanced, staring up at the shattered window. Still Holtz sat there, holding on to the gun and breathing with great difficulty. This time there must be no mistake. He willed them to come to him, exerting his mind as the blood continued to drip from him, with an irritating sound, on to the floor.

They finally made up their minds that it would be safe to approach, and in a body they began to move. Holtz waited until they were in the middle of the road, then, with his remaining strength, savagely, and with deadly precision, he cut them to pieces.

The park stretched away into distant flower-beds, trees and heavy shrubs. Near the main gates was a large boating-pond. A number of brightly painted boats rested at anchor in the middle of the pond. Tennis-courts to the right of the pond were deserted. The nets hung slackly, and the white lines stood out sharply against the green grass.

It was early. If it had been a Sunday, no doubt even at that hour, the park would have been crowded, but it was only Thursday, and there was work to be done.

So, for over an hour, the park was very peaceful, and the only sign of movement was from the birds that sang in the sunshine, and flew from branch to branch, or suddenly swooped to the ground. Then two young men walked through the main gates and moved down the centre avenue. They looked very much alike. They were both dressed in shabby blue suits, pinched in at the waist, and very baggy in the trousers. They wore pointed shoes that they hadn’t bothered to clean, and black, slouch hats worn tilted on the bridge of their noses. Cigarettes dangled from slack lips, and their hands were thrust deeply into trouser pockets, hunching their shoulders.