"WE SHALL FIGHT ON THE BEACHES, WE SHALL
FIGHT ON THE LANDING GROUNDS"
It was right there. It was right in front of them, teasing them by sitting just beyond their reach on the horizon. It was like you could blink and you would be th...
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The water was black with oil. It didn't stop Kris and Alex from swimming as hard as they could to catch up with Tommy and Flynn. Even though Kris's shoulder screamed for medical attention, she had her eyes set on the rescue boats. Leaving the sunken ship with Johnny and Gibson behind made both of the soldiers feel terrible, but that was survival.
Kris hissed every time she moved her shoulder. The salt from the ocean caused her open wound to burn as if it were on fire in the pits of Hell. Alex noticed her pain, and slowed down for her. When she reached him, he took her other arm that didn't have blood all over the uniform and threw it around his neck. Alex struggled to swim with her on his back, and even though she was a dead weight, he wouldn't desert her. He had to be a hero. He had to save her.
They came to the first boat they got to. It was a small yacht – obviously not a ship from the navy, but it was a boat nonetheless.
A young boy pulled Kris up from the water, along with Alex soon after. They were instructed to go below deck, where a few other oil-covered soldiers sat around another teenage boy. Alex walked passed Kris and to the still boy, placing two long fingers against his neck. Alex glanced up at Kris, and she looked away knowing exactly what was wrong.
"Careful!" the young boy that helped Kris up shouted at Alex as the soldier attempted to move the boy's body.
Alex looked up at the blond boy in the red jumper with a sad look in his eyes. "He's dead, mate."
The blond took in Alex's words for a few seconds before he was knocked out of his stupor. "So be bloody careful with him!"
Alex softly placed the dead boy's body aside. Looking around, he spotted a couple of blankets in the corner. He took hold of them, placing one over the boy's body. Once Alex was finished with the boy, he moved over to sit beside Kris at the back corner of the lower deck. She shivered just the slightest as the wind came through the open door.
Alex slipped the spare blanket across her shoulders, wiping the oil from her face and neck in the process.
"Is it over?" she asked quietly, her hands taking hold of the ends of the rough blanket.
Alex leaned his head back, sighing. "For us, it is."
Alex could hear soft sniffles coming from next to him. He glanced at Kris, finding that tears were making their way down her flushed cheeks.
"Hey," Alex mumbled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders (avoiding her bullet wound) and pulling Kris into his chest. Her head fell on his collarbones, and his chin rested gently on top of her oil-slicked hair. "You're gonna be okay, love. It's over."
