Free The Ephemera by Hal Duncan, Neil Williamson Page B

over.
    Nevertheless, Marten let the opportunity to smart-alec me pass. "Cap's a very brave man," he said. "He'd do anything for us. Every man here owes him his sanity, if not his life." Again a chorus of enthusiastic assent from the other soldiers. The sense of fun was gone though. And I could not escape the feeling that I was missing something. While I could not believe anyone would go outside for such a frivolous purpose during an artillery attack, the man was clearly not present in the dug-out.
    "Well, it's been nice Corporal Hawthorne," Marten said, "but it might be a good idea to take advantage of this break in the weather and see if you can get back to your General. Sutherland, here, will point you in the right direction." A stocky chap with a child's chubby cheeks jumped to his feet energetically and retrieved his helmet from the bedpost before waggling his eyebrows at me. The welcoming atmosphere felt somewhat tainted following the bizarre exchange concerning their Captain, but I still didn't want to leave—especially having heard so little about this extraordinary Braithwaite. And yet, I knew Marten was right. If there was a time to head back, now was it.
    While Sutherland bounded up the steps ahead of me I turned to the assembled men. "I'd like to come back and meet your Captain Braithwaite some day," I said.
    "I know he'd be delighted to make your acquaintance, Sir." Marten nodded agreeably. "Well, safe journey..."
    An explosion right at the dug-out entrance sent Sutherland tumbling down the steps to land at my feet in a spray of debris. A second round of artillery exchange was under way. Sutherland, breathing hard, blinked in shock for a moment—I could see his brain processing what had happened.
    At the same time as he said, "Stormy again. Probably need an umbrella," I heard a subdued, but distinctly terrified, moan. Added to my unexpected plunge back into the trench hell I thought I had left forever the previous year, that sound was enough to unnerve me to the edge of panic. By some instilled reflex I had drawn my service revolver.
    "What was that?" As I said it, I stepped towards Marten.
    The nerveless bastard looked straight back at me without blinking. "What was what?" he said.
    My gaze flitted around the room. The rest of the men watched with interest, some with evident amusement. It wasn't right. "I heard someone," I said.
    "Sutherland?" Marten shrugged his eyebrows laconically.
    "Not Sutherland," I snapped. "Tell me again, where is your Captain?"
    "I told you, Sir. He's out..."
    "I don't believe you."
    He stared back impassively, as if he didn't know what all the fuss was about.
    "Marten," I said, maddened that he continued to deny the sound I had clearly heard, and desperate to make some sense of the situation. "I have reason to believe that something has happened to your CO. Understand that I will use this gun if you do not tell me the truth." I hardly knew what I was saying. It was a ridiculous threat. I had never shot anyone face to face, and I was pretty sure I did not possess the unwarranted ruthlessness to carry out my threat now. And it looked like Marten knew it. "Aren't you afraid?" I punctuated my words by rolling back the hammer of the gun.
    The supercilious smile that came as he said, "Not a bit, Sir," almost tipped me into unreason. I would have done almost anything at that moment to wipe it off his face. I felt my finger begin to squeeze the trigger. Saw that he observed that twitch.
    Another muffled sound. This time more of a scream than a moan. It came from the shadowy rear of the room. I strode over there, and discovered a curtained off alcove behind one of the empty bunks. I yanked aside the grimy cloth and found a man lying in a rough hollowed-out bed-shelf padded with blankets. He might even have been fairly comfortable were it not for his bound limbs and the roll of old bandages stuffed into his mouth. I had no doubt that this was the mysterious Braithwaite, but I could not for the