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Mal tensed as soon as she heard the library door slam open. They’d been closed for nearly an hour, so it wasn’t a regular patron. And no one came into the library with this much urgency unless something was wrong.
Annette rounded the corner of the shelf where Mal was restacking a pile of returned books and skidded to a halt, bracing herself against her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “There’s someone…” She trailed off, pausing to take a few deep breaths; wherever she was coming from, she’d come in a hurry. “There’s someone in the fields out by the cow shed. Near Mr. Laurent’s farm, coming out of the woods.”
Mal felt herself immediately go on alert. “Could you tell who they were?”
Annette shook her head. “I was pretty far away, but I didn’t recognize him.” She looked up, expression worried. “He was wearing a uniform though.”
“Right.” Mal set the books she was carrying down and set off towards the door. “Let’s go.”
The evening air was cool against Mal’s face as she and Annette cycled through the town streets, going as fast as they could while trying to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Speed was imperative in situations like this; a lone individual coming out of the woods was rarely a good sign, and there was no knowing what state the unknown man would be in when they got to him. Mal had quickly learned that the situation in these cases was rarely pleasant and often required fast acting to keep it from getting worse, and she had taken to keeping a small medical kit tucked in the bottom of her bicycle basket for that exact reason.
It wouldn’t be good to draw unnecessary attention though, at least until they had a better handle on who the man was. The general sentiment in the town wasn’t friendly towards the Germans, but if the man ended up being British or American, the fewer people who knew about him the better. Mal had learned that lesson very quickly too.
The light was starting to fade by the time she and Annette reached the fields near the cow shed, but Mal could see the figure stumbling through them easily enough. She was still too far away to make out any details, but he was moving with the uneven stagger that meant injury or at least dazed confusion. Mal leaned forward, pedaling as fast as she could- they were well outside the town now which meant there wasn’t anyone else around to draw attention from anymore, and staggering like that meant the situation might be even worse than she’d thought.
She let her bike fall to the ground as she climbed over the small stone wall and rushed through the grass. Her father would scold her for getting her skirt wet in the damp grass, but she could deal with that later. Right now there were other, more important things to worry about.
The man was definitely a soldier. Mal could see enough of a uniform as she got closer to confirm that. It wasn’t a full uniform, though- no jacket, helmet, or gun. He was dirty too, covered in enough mud and grime to hide any insignias that might have been on the parts of a uniform he was wearing. Nothing to indicate who he was fighting for, or against. That complicated things. Without knowing whether or not he was German, Mal knew she had to be careful; if he was German and she said the wrong thing, things could get very dangerous very quickly.
Mal slowed down, approaching the man carefully. She hesitated for a moment, trying to decide what language to speak in, before deciding to stick with French. It seemed like the most neutral option, given the uncertain nationality of the soldier. “Hello? Are you alright?”
The man didn’t seem to notice her, continuing to stumble forward through the grass without any acknowledgement. Mal took another step forward, trying to read the man’s expression in the low light. There was no recognition in it, no acknowledgement of where he was, just empty fear. She reached out hesitantly, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Are you hurt? Can you understand what I’m saying?”
The man finally seemed to register her presence, stumbling back at the contact and looking at Mal with wide-eyed confusion. Mal held her hands up and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. “It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m from a nearby town, I saw you from the road.”
After a moment of the man simply staring at her, Mal took another careful step towards him. She could see a chain hanging around his neck and two small pieces of metal resting against his chest- identification tags. She reached out slowly, ready to pull back if the man startled again, but he simply stared at her with the same confused, fearful expression as she picked the tags up. They were battered and scratched enough that most of the writing was unintelligible even as she leaned in closer, but she was able to make out the small letters U.S.A. carved at the bottom. American, then. That answered the first pressing question. Now it was time to move onto the second one- just exactly how bad of a state was he in?
She motioned for Annette to come over from where she had stopped a few feet back. If the man was American, they needed to get him out of sight as soon as possible. Mal wrapped an arm carefully around his back and nodded towards the shed in the corner of the field as Annette supported the man from the other side. “Help me get him over to the cow shed, then grab the medical kit.”
“Right.”
Moving across the field was a slow process. It wasn’t a particularly long walk to the shed but the man’s stumbling made it difficult to move at any significant speed. Mal could feel how uneven his breathing was now that she was helping hold him up, more gasps than actual breaths. He hadn’t looked like he was seriously injured, but between the low light and how dirty he was it was hard to tell for sure. His breathing could be from pain, but it could just as easily be from fear- there was no way to know for sure until they’d gotten him in the shed where Mal could take a closer look.
It wasn’t until they got to the shed that the man showed any reaction to what was happening. They’d crossed the threshold, finally getting under the roof and out of the slight drizzle coming down, when the man jerked back, forcefully pulling out of Mal and Annette’s grip. Mal turned to try and steady him, but he stumbled back out of her reach. The confusion on his face had been replaced by pure fear, the sort of terrified panic that drowned out any other emotion that might be present. He didn’t even stop as he tripped over the shed’s threshold, continuing to scramble back from the doorway even as he fell and landed heavily on his back.
“Woah, woah, woah, it’s okay.” Mal hurried over, switching to English now that she knew he was American. She was careful not to touch him as she crouched down beside him; she’d seen fear like this on men before, and knew that they could easily lash out like this without even realizing it. The man didn’t seem in a state to be particularly dangerous at the moment, but it was better to be careful. “We need to get you inside where you are out of sight. You will be safer in there. Drier, too.”
The man looked between her and the doorway, none of the fear in his expression fading. His breathing was shallow and uneven and Mal hesitated a moment before placing a hand carefully on his shoulder. She still couldn’t be sure what had been causing the man’s uneven breathing as they’d walked, but she’d seen this enough times to know what was causing it now- panic. She needed to get him hidden from the road and somewhere she could treat whatever injuries he had, but she wasn’t going to be able to get much of anything done if he was in this state. “Breathe. You’re okay. Just breathe.”
It was several minutes before the man seemed to have returned to a more manageable level of fear. Mal glanced around before motioning to a spot on the wall near the door. The man clearly didn’t want to go in the shed, and this seemed like the best compromise at the moment- it would get him out of sight of the road but still kept him outside. It wouldn’t help with the drizzle, but she could deal with that later. “How about there, against the wall? Not inside the building, would you be okay with that?”
The man gave a shaky nod after a second, the first indication that he actually understood anything being said to him. Mal helped him back up, supporting most of his weight as they both stumbled over to the wall. His breathing was a little better but he was shaking now, entire body trembling, and Mal motioned for Annette to hurry as she rushed back over to the bikes by the road to grab the medical kit.
The man huddled against the wall as Mal helped him sit down, drawing his knees up and seemingly trying to shrink away from everything around him. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind being touched. He let Mal check him over for any sign of major injuries without a single sound, staring off across the field silently. It was disconcerting; Mal had seen soldiers stumble out of the woods frightened and with injuries of varying severity, but there was something about the man’s silent terror that set her on edge.
By the time Annette made it back with the medical kit Mal was relatively certain the man didn’t have any life-threatening injuries, but she accepted the kit gladly all the same. “Go back to town and get Philippe. Tell him to radio the nearest allied outpost, British or American, it doesn’t matter. Whichever he can safely contact. Tell them we found a soldier, not seriously injured but in a bad state. I think he’s American. Then bring some blankets and food. Be careful not to draw attention.”
Annette nodded and took back off across the field. It would be a while before she got back, but it would be alright. The man didn’t seem to be in imminent danger of dying, and Mal the medical kit and plenty to keep her attention occupied until Annette returned with more supplies.
She sat back slightly, taking in the man’s full condition for the first time without the urgency of searching for major injuries. It was hard to pin down his age with dirt obscuring most of his features, but he was young. Mid-twenties at the oldest, if she had to guess. “Can you tell me your name?”
Mal spoke slowly and softly, switching back to English, but the man just stared at her silently. When several seconds of silence passed without an answer, she leaned back in. She was fairly certain he could understand what she was saying, but getting a response didn’t seem particularly likely at the moment. It would be easier if he could talk, but it wasn’t the end of the world if he couldn’t for a while. Whatever information that would be useful- his name, what unit he was from, what had happened- wasn’t urgent enough that it couldn’t wait.
Mal started checking the man over more carefully. No major injuries didn’t mean no injuries at all, and a more thorough examination seemed like the best thing to fill the time while she waited for either the man to start speaking or Annette to get back, whichever came first. The first step was wiping away some of the grime the man was covered in. A small cloth would have been preferable, but the hem of her skirt would do the job just as well; her father wouldn’t be happy about that either, but the fabric was already damp and dirt would wash out easily enough.
Small cuts and bruises became more apparent as she gently wiped away the dirt. Whatever had happened, the man had taken a beating during it. His hands were in the worst state, and she quickly focused her attention on them. The skin on his fingers was torn and bloody, dirt and mud ground deep into the cuts. Digging, she realized. It looked like he’d been digging with his hands, clawing through dirt until it had torn his skin up. She frowned, cleaning out the cuts as best she could; of all the injuries she had come across since she’d started helping the allied soldiers that occasionally stumbled through the area, she’d never seen ones quite like this before.
The field was quiet as the minutes passed and night began to settle in. The man had been lucky to come out of the woods here; the field had shelter and was far enough away from the town that the likelihood of someone else coming by, especially in the evening, was low. The isolation meant the silence of the area was almost palpable though, broken only by the slowly increasing rain. Mal wouldn’t have minded it normally. The silence of the fields by the woods was calming most nights, a reminder of how grateful she was that the front lines had moved enough that she could no longer hear gunfire.
It was different mixed with the man’s silence though. Tenser, more frightened. It made the silence around them both just a little heavier, the darkness just a little more suffocating, Mal kept her attention focused on the movements of her hands as she tended to the man various small wounds, the motions well practiced enough by now to be at least a little comforting.
“A-arthur.”
Mal glanced up, surprised. The word was barely audible even in the relative silence of the field, and it took her a moment to figure out what the man had said. After such an extended period of silence, she hadn’t really expected him to say anything at all. “Is that your name?”
The man nodded. With more of the dirt wiped away, Mal could see better just how young he was. Mid-twenties had been overly generous; if he was older than 18 or 19, she would be shocked. She gave him a warm smile, trying to ignore the weight she could feel settling in her chest. “That’s a lovely name. My name is Mallorie. You can call me Mal, though, everyone does.” She wiped away a smudge of dirt on the man’s cheek with her thumb. “You’re safe now, Arthur, I promise. I’m here to help you.”
The man nodded again. There was still fear in his expression but he looked more present. Maybe not fully aware of his surroundings quite yet, but aware enough to answer a question. One that had been asked several minutes prior, but Mal would take whatever progress she could get. He was starting to tremble again, but it seemed to be more from the cold this time rather than fear. Not great, but it was something. Hopefully Annette would be back with blankets soon.
Mal hesitated. She wanted to ask, wanted to know what had happened to land him in this state- trembling, covered in dirt, hands torn and bloody and eyes full of fear and confusion. She knew better though. Whatever had managed to tether the man back to his surroundings was tenuous, and pushing at it wouldn’t land him anywhere good. Better to just focus on his injuries, as unpleasant as that was in and of itself. She hated all of the injuries she saw on the soldiers who made it through the German lines and out of the woods, but it was worse on the ones like him. The young ones, barely older than children.
The focus in the man’s eyes was starting to fade when she glanced back up though, and Mal could see the same empty fear from earlier starting to creep back into his expression. She hesitated a moment before sitting back, carefully taking his hand. “Arthur?” The man blinked, looking at her; still present enough that he could hear her then, that was good. “Try to stay with me, yes?” She gently squeezed his hand, giving him a reassuring smile. “Everything is going to be okay. You’re safe now.”
He nodded, gripping her hand back. There was still work Mal needed to do to clean him up and treat his wounds, even if they were mostly minor. That could wait though. At least a few minutes. She brought her other hand up to cover the man’s- Arthur’s, she supposed- hand, quietly telling him over and over that it was okay. Even once the British or Americans knew he was here, Mal knew it would be a while before they would be able to get him out. The German line had advanced enough that getting to her town to extract a single injured soldier would be a process that she doubted would be even remotely close to a top priority. She’d be here though. For however long it took to get him out, she’d be here.