Two Of Us (WW2 RusCan)

Chapter Eight

   What this all after life?

   Blackness. No god to greet him, no angels, no one. This was all. All blackness.

   That is what he had thought before he opened his eyes. The Canadian was dead, but only in his dream.

   He jolted awake, his upper body immediately getting up from wherever he was lying down. A breather was over his mouth and connected to a breathing machine beside the bed he was in.

   The bed was so small it only fit for him and was covered with a white sheet. The room was dead silent but the sun still shined through the windows. Some beds were lined up the same Matthew's was, some with bodies, and some empty.

   Matthew took a moment to gain his breathing as he looked around slowly. A heavy blanket covered half of his body as the fresh morning air made contact with Matthew's skin. He was in a gown, a gown that someone would wear at the hospital.

   He wore it because he was at the hospital.

   His body began to revive and felt sore all over, especially his arm. He then tried to stand up but almost fell when he wanted to use his left hand to get up. He couldn't. He had no left hand. Nor a left arm. All was left was his shoulder covered in what looked to be clean bandages.

    "Hello?" He quietly called. He could tell his voice was not used to talking again. How long was he there? Where was his arm?

   He couldn't stand. He sat back down and continued looking around. He saw a sign from across the room and saw that it was English. Not Russian like the words on Ivan's cigarette box like he remembered.

   Just then, a nurse walked into the room and saw Matthew. She smiled, "I am glad that you are awake, Mr. Williams. How is your breathing?" She asked.

   Matthew studied his breathing for a moment, "It's alright."

  She wrote something down on the clipboard she had and took the mask off of his face gently. She then turned off the breathing machine. "If you ever feel as if you have a hard time breathing, just use this. Turn it on by this button and put on the mask."

    Matthew nodded, "Thank you."

   She turned the leave, "You're welcome."

   "Uh, wait."

   "Hm?"

   "I was wondering...where are we?"

   The nurse sighed gently, "Well, I better get the doctor in here to explain that to you. For now, you are in England."

   She then turned to go out the doors again and the silence sneaked back into the room.

   He had forgotten the last thing he saw. The last persons he was with. The last place he was before here. What did he dream about? It was already forgotten to the back of his mind.

   Tears began to fall off of his face. He had no arm. He had no memory. He had no one. Only himself.

   "Oh poor, Mr. Williams. I know it is terrible." The doctor came inside with the same nurse following behind. He sat down in a chair beside his bed, trying to calm him. "I do not think you are ready to know about what happened to you." He said gently.

    "I-I am ready..." He said, wiping his tears and acting like his eyes weren't puffing with red.

    The doctor sighed and after making sure Matthew was in good shape, he began to speak. "Well, it says here on your past records that you are a Canadian soldier and spy sent to the front lines somewhere in Germany which is classified. You are quite capable with a sniper and you would send reports in back to Britain."

   Matthew began to remember all of that clearly. Almost like it was all yesterday.

   "The last report you sent was on June first, twenty one days before Operation Barbarossa. After that, there has been no trace of you until about a month ago. A Russian soldier found you almost dead in the snowy forest near the Russian capital. He took you to his headquarters and you received medical treatment."

    He had no memory of that at all. "Was my arm already gone then?"

   The doctor nodded, "Yes, it was. The Russian explained that it looked like you were in combat with someone else and they cut off your arm and injured your face. You were also found wearing a german soldier's uniform."

     "I am sorry but I do not recall any of that."

   "Of course you wouldn't. You have been in a coma a little before they even found you."

   Matthew jumped, his voice shaking a bit, "When was I found?"

   "Like I said, a month ago. That was in August and you were last reported in June."

   Matthew's heart skipped a beat. He was missing for almost three months and no one knew where he was or what was happening to him. He had no idea either.

   "You had visitors about two weeks ago. Mr. Francis Bonnefoy, Pilot Alfred F. Jones, and Captain Arthur Kirkland. Even the Russian who rescued you came just a few days ago."

   Matthew took a breath. "Thank you for telling me this. I hope I will remember all of this soon so I can give you all information. Can you please contact Francis, Alfred, and Arthur to tell them I am awake?"

   "We certainly will. We will leave you to rest then." He said, standing and leaving a book on the nightstand beside Matthew's bed for entertainment.

    He had never met a Russian before and slightly hoped he would get to see his savior again. What would a Russian look like? Would they have white colored hair because of the snow? This made Matthew give a small laugh even though he was just crying a few moment ago.

    What kind of Russian would have white hair? Would they wear scarves too...

   That was when it hit him like a bullet. He remembered something. He didn't know if it was a dream or reality but he remembered.

    "Ivan..."

    To be continued...