Road Rage | Pars Duo

Lunging with every ounce of strength she could conjure, Rosalie hastily retrieved her brother from the overturned death trap. She tolled him onto his back and immediately checked for a pulse. Moments ago he had let out a faint moan and twitch, but he had fallen silent again. Thankfully she was able to locate a pulse. It was faint, and slow, but it was there.

She slung the satchel with the violin parts over her shoulder, then scooped both of her arms beneath his armpits, and dragged him to safety. There was nothing she could do for the body of the dead civilian, and there was nothing she could do for Garret. The fuel puddle had ignited, and blue flames were rabidly consuming a path to the engine. It was only a matter of seconds.

Rosalie backpedaled as fast as she could towards the tree line, hoping to get behind some decent cover. The military vehicle which had saved the, from Ulrich and Nadine had stopped a couple hundred feet away, taking an offensive position in the middle of the road. The soldiers from inside the vehicle, save for the mounted gunner, had all exited, and were shouting commands in English with raised rifles.

Rosalie did not care to listen to their commands. Her only mission as to get as far away from the truck as fast possible. Fortunately, the side of the road they were on did not have any guard rail which made hurling Corrado into the woods easier. Finding a wide enough trunk, with thick waterspouts, she laid her brother down.

A tremendous boom quaked the Earth beneath her feet, and the force from the shock wave knocked her down. The truck’s engine erupted, sending thousands of flaming slabs of metal, rubber, and wood flying though the air. She braced for the incoming bombardment by shielding her brother’s body with her own.

The front of the oak tree thankfully endured the brunt of the explosion. A large, flaming chunk of one of the tires landed a few feet beside her, bouncing deeper into the woods, igniting a smoky path of carnage behind it. A few more gnarled, and charred bits and pieces of the truck fell around them, and she could have sworn she saw a few severed fingers smoldering by the roadside. Then the moment fell silent.

She leaned back, taking her weight off of Corrado. Easing his spine, Rosalie helped her brother into a more comfortable position. She again checked his pulse, and once again found it. It was till faint, yet it had increased its rhythm. She rubbed his cheeks with her fingers, then did the same on his chest. It was a trick their mom did to them when they were children to help them catch their breath. As she alternated from chest to cheek, she could hear her mom’s voice in her head, reciting her healing mantra.

Ease the heart. Ease the mind. Take deep breaths. One breathe at a time.

Rosalie mumbled the same mantra in Italian as Corrado’s breathing began to increase, and his eyelids twitched slightly open.

“Allevia il cuore. Rilassa la mente. Fai respiri profondi. Un respiro alla volta.”

Corrado coughed, and spat out thick clumps of blood that solidified in his throat. Rosalie helped wipe away the excess from his face with the sleeve of her shirt, and vigorously rubbed his arms to revitalize his senses. She tried to mend the bridge of his nose, but as soon as her fingers touched his skin, he recoiled in agony.

“It’s broken,” Rosalie said.

“I know it’s broken,” Corrado said, with a hiss, “What happened?”

Corrado craned his neck at the scene and saw the desolation of the supply truck they were traveling in. He saw a woman’s body laying face down in the street in a dried pool of blood, and he saw armed soldiers combing the entire area with rifles. He then noticed the gash on Rosalie’s scalp, hiding beneath her bangs. He tried to reach for it, but his hands were smacked away.

“You’re hurt,” he said.

“I’m fine. Your nose is more concerning.”

“What happened, Rosalie?”

She paused for a moment before answering because knew that if she kept Corrado in the dark, she could create a dangerous rift between them.

“Ulrich,” she said.

Corrado’s eyes went wide, then looked back at the scene with intense focus.

“What about Garret? I don’t see him.”

Rosalie stumbled back on her heels, catching herself on a low hanging tree branch, then turned away from her brother so he wouldn’t be able to see her face.

“He didn’t make it,” she said.

Corrado was about to press her for more information when a British accented voice spoke from the road’s edge.

“You kids alright?”

Rosalie stepped back, apprehensive and defensive, and removed Garret’s dagger from her waist.

“Hostility won’t be necessary my dear. We are not your enemy. Do you need medical aid? How about the boy behind you. His nose looks pretty bad.”

“Who are you?” Rosalie asked.

“Leftenant Bates. British Royal Navy. I am at your service. Please, allow us to help you.”

Rosalie had to trust the man’s character because they were in no position to run. But Garret was dead, and they were once again on their own. They needed aid, and they desperately needed food, sleep, and water. Plus, with Garret’s death, no one in either the American or British military knew about the music sheet. They could now easily rest, heal, and get back on the road without anyone taking notice.

Rosalie nodded at the British officer, who nodded back and returned to the other soldiers. She turned back to Corrado, who was leaning up against the tree, bent down to his eye level, and whispered.

“Where is the music sheet?” She asked.

“It’s in the satchel.”

Rosalie removed the satchel from her shoulder, and rummaged around its contents until she found the piece of paper. She removed the boot on her right foot, then yanked off the sock. she folded, and rolled up the piece of paper until it was as small as he could make, stuffed it inside of her sock, then put the sock and boot back onto her foot.

“We need to go with these men. Garret’s dead, so no one else knows, or needs to know about the music sheet. If they ask about the violin, I will tell them that it’s an heirloom, and we’re simply trying to salvage it.”

“Where are they taking us?” Corrado asked.

“Hopefully back into town. From there, we can rest, eat, sleep and have your nose properly evaluated. Then, we will gather fresh supplies and make our way towards Caltanissetta.”

She tied her boot extra tight, slung the satchel abck over her shoulder, then reached out her hand.

“Can you walk?”

Corrado used his sore arms to shift his body forward, then plunged himself upwards. His knees screamed, and his shins tingled, but he could stand.

Rosalie smiled, then cupped her brother’s face in her palms, using her thumbs to wipe away residual, crusted blood.

“The only way we’re getting through this is together.”

Corrado raised his hands, and planted them on Rosalie’s shoulders.

“I’m in this until the end.”

They embraced further by gently touching one another’s forehead with their own. It was something they had always done as kids. Anytime they woudl fight, or argue to the point of hurting the other’s feelings, their father would make them embrace, forgive, and move on.

There may not be anything to forgive, but they sure as hell needed to move on.

Rosalie led them out of the woods, and over to the four soldiers standing in the road. The fifth soldier was still glued to the mounted machine gun, while the sixth and seventh soldier were working on lifting something heavy into the back of the vehicle.

“Ah, there you are,” Bates said, in a chippy tone, “Allow me to introduce you to Captain Lynch. He’s with the Americans and will be escorting you back into town to receive aid, shelter and food.

The captain nodded at them, but remained silent.

“Alright lads,” Bates continued, “Our new transport will be here in ten minutes. Continue to case the perimeter while we wait. Captain Lynch is going to escort these children back into Canicatti. They’ve had a pretty rough day and could use some rest.”

The two soldiers who were loading the truck were now scouring the northern tree line on both sides of the road, creating a defensive perimeter. Captain Lynch was climbing back into the driver’s seat of the truck, while one of the men who was standing beside Bates climbed into the passenger. Leftenant Bates, and a young man who looked barely a day older then Rosalie, began setting up a defensive perimeter to the south. They were losing their armored transport, as well as their mounted gun, which was leaving them vulnerable to attack, so they needed to remain on high alert.

Rosalie opened the rear door to the truck, and allowed Corrado to enter inside first. Closing the door behind them, she once again listened as another diesel engine roared to life. She prayed Ulrich and Nadine were out of explosives.

The truck began to accelerate, which Caused Rosalie to look back. She liked the British officer. He was nice, and seemed too calm for the situation he was in. But that calmness soothed her.

As she peered back, her eyes widened with shock. A bandaged body laid across the truck’s floor. She immediately got Corrado’s attention, and the two of them gawked at the revelation.

Rosalie turned back around, and asked the driver a question.

“That man in the back. Is he dead?”

She waited for a response, and watched as the American captain locked eyes with her in the rear view mirror.

“Almost,” he said, “Do you know him? Where was he bringing you from?”

Rosalie looked at Corrado, and insinuated a look of silence. Her heart pounded with emotion at the thought of Garret being alive. Because how was that possible? He was in the truck when it exploded. No one could have survived that, or at least survived it with as little burns as he had. But he had survived. And he was still alive.

Playing her cards close to the chest, she refused to acknowledge any details of their relationship, especially the music sheet. But she did tell them the truth.

“We saved his life. Well, my brother did. We were running from these German hunters when we heard him calling out for help. When we found him, he was drowning in a pond. His ankle had gotten wedged between two rocks. Corrado jumped in and saved him. Since then, he’s been helping us find our way back to town.”

The captain remained silent, as he digested her story. Luckily for all of them, Canicatti’s main square filled the horizon.

They were finally back, and could now find a way to get the hell out.