The Golden Soldier (Call of Duty: WW2 Fanfiction)

Chapter 4

"We won't hurt you," the short man spoke, lowering his gun. "I'm Zussman."
Isn't that a relief. He doesn't have an accent either.
I sat up, scooting backwards with my feet to sit up better. Zussman stepped forwards, carefully grabbing the back of my arm to pull me up. My hands shook as I faced the two men on my two feet--at a normal height too.
"Should we take her back?" Zussman asked his partner, who shrugged.
"I think it's wrong to leave her out here alone," the man looked to me, southern accent vigorous. "Help you from who?"
"Germans," I breathed and I noticed the two of them tense in the shoulders. "Miles back by now."
They shared another silent look and then Zussman nodded. "Daniels will lead the way back to camp."
I waited for another sack to cover my head, but it never came. As Daniels pressed forwards, I followed behind. Zussman brought up the rear.
While they hadn't covered my head, the two Americans left my wrists bound. I could understand why. Some crazy young woman comes running into them and asks for help...I'd be wary too. I probably looked inhuman compared to yesterday. My hair felt out of place and my face felt puffy too.
"My name is Avaline," I spoke into the silent forest, except for our footsteps against dirt, brush, and gravel.
"Daniels," the one leading replied curtly.
Last names?
They were being quite careful indeed.
"What are you going to do to me?" I sounded helpless.
Zussman let out a chuckle behind us, clearly amused. "We won't do anything. What happens to you is not up to us."
"It won't be whatever they did to you," Daniels reassured ahead of me, "if they did anything at all. Our platoon leader will decide what your fate is."
I hoped the leader was a kind, understanding man.
"Where are you from, Avaline?" Zussman wondered. "I've never seen anyone wear those clothes before, especially a woman."
"Let's just say I'm from a long ways away."
As we walked, the forest cleared away to an actual dirt road. It was clear vehicles had driven on it regularly, especially as a cobblestone wall lined either side. It reminded me of a traditional road in England, and at any point I was expecting a horse and buggy to round the corner.
We reached the camp shortly after we fell under silence again and walked along the road. The tents appeared before the milling men did--similar to the Germans' with deep green colors. The camp was a buzz, men shouting orders, unloading supplies, and leaving on patrols. The entire system had an entirely different atmosphere compared to the Germans'.
"Sit here," Zussman told me, looking to a chair.
I sat on the porch of one of the tents, covered from the sun. My eyes traveled around at the men glancing our way in curiosity. I eyed the jeeps parked nearby in a random pattern, the wooden crates full of food and other supplies. Daniels stood next to me, watching where Zussman had disappeared to.
Unlike the German camp, Zussman had taken off into the cluster of business. The person he was looking for was clearly immersed in the craze, not lazily sitting around like the Oberst had. I had to respect that.
To the sound of running water, I averted my gaze over to where a group of men were using toothbrushes to scrub their teeth using a well from a cottage hidden from view until now. I licked the front of my teeth, keeping my lips closed, and inwardly cringed at the plaque build-up. If I got a chance, I really needed to shape up my hygiene.
"Finally," Daniels murmured.
To his comment, I looked back at the way Zussman had disappeared. He was returning, two men on his heels. One was lean, walking with a purpose, with curiosity. The other newcomer was much more broad and acted like simply walking this direction annoyed him.
As they neared, I felt my heart leap to my throat, tightening it significantly. My hands shook in my lap once more and I closed my fists to try and hide it. They were taller the closer they got and simply had an aura about them that screamed respect me.
"Zussman," the man who seemed annoyed with everything snapped, his voice a crackle of fire too close to my face, "when we said patrol, we didn't mean frolicking in the woods with a mere girl."
"She came to us sir," Zussman looked from the intimidating soldier to the silent one staring at me. "Ran into us, quite literally."
The silent one studied me, the way I shifted under his calculating eyes--which I discovered were a deep brown upon meeting them with my own. His eyes traveled to my lap, where my wrists were tightly bound together.
"A prisoner?" his voice was chipped, serious, but not half as frightening as the deep-voiced brute next to him.
Zussman shrugged. "Not sure--"
"She has a tongue doesn't she?" the brute snapped. "Let her use it."
I swallowed, tasting the iron burn of blood; I hadn't realized I'd been biting the inside of my cheek so harshly. "I was."
The man said nothing, clearly waiting for me to elaborate. I cleared my throat, raising my gaze to firmly meet his. No matter what, I had to show I had some sense of strength in my gut.
"Germans held me captive for less than twenty four hours before I escaped. I almost got caught by another group, but I ran once again. I ran into these two," I glanced to Zussman and Daniels, who watched me with silent, optimistic eyes.
"I was already told that," the lean man seemed to have short patience. "What's your name?"
"Avaline," I blinked. "Avaline Baker."
"Where are you from?"
I was silent for a few seconds, trying to decide what to say. If I was brief, I'd be interrogated further. "America."
There was a huff from the brute, as if he didn't believe me. I guess since he didn't know me I gave him that right.
"Where?"
"California," I didn't hesitate.
"Interesting clothes," the lean man continued to push. "What's the 20-09 stand for?"
"A year," I blurted and then quickly retraced my steps. "That represents a number I had in high school for sports."
"How old are you exactly, Avaline?"
"21."
The man was quiet for a moment, pondering multiple things I couldn't even begin to try to understand. I'd tried to stay as honest as possible...without causing too much trouble. The curiosity of the year on my sweatshirt had almost opened another entire path of questioning.
It didn't help that the man next to the one questioning had yet to move his eyes from me. The eyes, brown as tree bark, were like steel--never blinking or moving from my form. I couldn't help but look back, treating fire with fire. His jaw was thick, yet more sharp than Daniels'. Dark facial hair covered his lower face and upper lip very slightly, neatly almost--it told me his hair, covered by an army green helmet, had to be the same color. His thick eyebrows were practically stitched together, a wrinkle between them as he focused in on me. He honestly looked rude and mean as hell.
The other man next to him was just as serious and focused, only his face had more of a friendly ghost on it. With similar dark eyes, the man was lean yet surely in shape for warfare. His face was free of hair, lips not too thick--the upper one was slightly larger--and his eyes were narrowed in pinpointing yours truly. From underneath his helmet, I could get a glimpse of lighter hair--still brunette however.
Both of them still absolutely terrified me.
"For now, put her in the command tent with a guard outside," the lean man decided. "There's too much going on to decide what to do with her right now. I'll deal with it later."
He made me sound like a task, a simple duty saved for later. Such an attitude made me narrow my eyes and clench my fists harder.
"She could be a spy," the larger man next to him hissed. "Just kill her now."
"I will find out for myself," the shorter man snapped, glaring at the other. "Go finish what I asked, Pierson."
    Pierson. The one with piercing dark eyes and a cold statue. I'd make sure to remember him.
"Last thing we need is a woman..." he was muttering to himself as he reluctantly obeyed orders.
"Who's idea was it to bring her back here?"
Zussman looked to Daniels. "Me, sir."
"Zussman since you brought her here, it's going to be your job to look after her...for now."
"Yes sir."
The man nodded at Daniels to dismiss him and the young soldier did just that. I watched him for a moment before reverting my attention back to the conversation at hand.
"Don't let her out of your sights," the high-ranked man told Zussman firmly before looking at me. "If you cooperate, this is going to be a lot easier for you."
With that, he spun around and went back to work like before. I let out breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and looked up to Zussman. He carefully grabbed my arm, drawing me into the large tent.
"Sit there."
I groaned. "Always sitting."
Zussman said nothing in response, watching me eye the chair. I faced him and then narrowed my eyes.
"You're going to watch over me the whole time?"
"As I've been told to."
I nodded and then settled on the floor. "Then I'm going to try and sleep. It's been almost two days of not being able to."
Zussman said nothing in response, surely stunned as I laid down with my back to him. I put my numb hands underneath my head as a pillow and then closed my eyes.

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Hey everyone! I don't have much of an author's note today.
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