Everyone's eyes widened in shock.
"What the fuck was that?" Pete whispered.
Harry's eyes met mine in a panic. I turned to see Daisy, still desperately clawing at his arm for safety.
"Stay here." Harry whispered, moving away from Daisy's desperate grasp. He motioned for Pete to follow him and he did. The two of them crept up stairs, both with their rifles ready and loaded. My heart was racing and my breathing was shallow. I turned to Fergus with furrowed brows. He placed a hand on my shoulder, giving me a reassuring nod.
What if more Frenchmen like the ones last night were looking to ransack us. What if someone had come back to retrieve Louis' body which sat rotting in the corner of the next room.
My heart ached at the thought of Harry getting hurt. I shut my eyes and clenched my fists.
A loud scream echoed from upstairs and my eyes flew open.
Despite Fergus' plea to remain with him I rushed upstairs in a panic, tripping over several times in the process.
"Harry!" I called.
No answer.
There were more rooms upstairs than down, but I still searched frantically.
"Harry!!" I called again, this time more desperately.
A large hand grabbed at my shoulder from behind, pulling me roughly around to face them.
I sighed in relief at the sight of Harry before me.
"What are you doing Lianna?" He was standing in front of me, arms now crossed over his chest and brows knitted in anger.
"I heard a scream." My voice was unsteady and panicked. I heard groaning and moaning from down the hall and stepped forward to investigate. Harry's hand reached out to stop me.
"I told you to stay downstairs." He raised his voice.
"I don't have to always do what you tell me to," I replied, a sudden surge of anger running through me. I poked my head over Harry's shoulder where more moaning and groaning could be heard.
"It's nothing, just a sick Frenchmen, that's all," Harry said more calmly.
"Well if he's sick then maybe I can help him," I replied, pushing past Harry and walking towards the room located at the end of the hall. I pushed open the door hesitantly, adjusting my eyes to the bright sunlight which filtered the fashionable yet modest bedroom.
When I walked into the room the first thing I noticed was its odor. The smell of sickness and death lingered in the air, filling my nostrils. I involuntarily scrunched my nose up.
My eyes then noticed a man lying on the floor, holding a knife in one hand and a book in the other. Pete's rifle was pointed directly towards him.
"Pete, what are you doing?" I asked walking towards Pete, pushing his rifle towards the floor. "He's clearly unwell," I spoke with frustration.
"Or so he wants us to think." Pete retorted, re-positioning his rifle towards the man, lying helpless and powerless on the floorboards.
Harry entered the room and placed his rifle against the door. "Here, help me get him up," I spoke and began to approach the sick Frenchman.
"Lianna! Stop." Harry raised his voice again. "He needs to drop that knife."
"Then you need to drop your rifle." The man croaked in a thick French accent.
YOU ARE READING
AFFLICTION.
Romance'The most deadly and violent war in human history. Soldiers believed they were running towards their enemy when truly, they were running into the open arms of death. ' British/French combat nurse Lianna Beauchamp is thrown into a difficult situation...
