Before You Start A War

Chapter Sixteen

The next day when Harry goes in to speak with his corporal about Niall's treatment, the door guards tell him he's not in his quarters. Sometimes Harry would see the corporal walking around during the eating periods, but never during training sessions or drill training. When he asks where the man went to, he was told it was classified and he wasn't allowed to know.

Harry decides to return to his drill training. Normally they have up to two drills per day between periods, and training every other day, but thankfully Harry's been excused the last few days due to Niall and the map. Lunch period isn't for another hour, he thinks, so he has time to catch up.

After a while of relearning steps and tactics, and though he mostly spends the hour correcting his partner's moves, whom he assumes is a new recruit since he hasn't seen him before, eventually the training period comes to an end and the entire group rushes off to collect their food for the day. Harry finds himself in the midst of the group, standing in line for his own share of food and to collect Niall's.

"Didja hear 'bout the prisoner?" A man two people behind Harry nudges the man in front of him, not at all trying to keep his voice low.

"Oh, yeah. Corporal's pissed. Honestly, why's the shit even still alive?" The other one responds, and Harry can see in his peripherals that he's shaking his head.

"No idea. We roughened him up enough, I thought he'd die of his injuries down there."

"Nah, this one's taking care of him," One of them slaps Harry on the back, stepping up next to him. The other man joins a second later, throwing an arm across Harry's shoulder.

"What'd ya do to him, Styles?" The first man responds, and Harry turns around and recognizes him as one of the men he was trapped with. He can't recall his name, but he knows for a fact he wasn't one of Niall's biggest fans.

"What do you mean, mate?" Harry decides to ask.

The other man scoffs, and he was one that wasn't held captive like Harry and the other one. "Too nice, ya are. I'd gut that fucker first chance I got."

"You don't know how many times I wish I could while we were held in that damned barn. I tried makin' a shiv out of the hay, I was that desperate."

Harry tries not to let the disgust leak onto his face. He can't believe how brutal his so-called comrades are toward someone they barely know, one of them has probably never even met him. He knows they're in a war and Niall used to be an enemy, but that doesn't inherently make him an awful person.

"But what really happened?" Harry questions instead, wanting to know what happened with Niall and the corporal. That might've been where Corporal Maddox was earlier. He needs to know just in case he needs to go check on Niall.

"'Parently the prisoner's been trying to escape. Stole a map or somethin', I dunno."

Just then, Harry's hands immediately fly to his rucksack. He must have forgotten to grab the two maps yesterday after Niall kicked the dirt over them.

He immediately begins to search around inside for the parchment while the other two continue to converse. Now, he's not even scared of what these men say they would do to Niall, instead he's afraid of what the corporal could be doing to Niall right now.

"Shit," Harry whispers as he steps out of line, briskly walking toward the cellar. When he gets a certain distance away, he can see one of the doors is wide open and the lock is nowhere to be found.

Instead of taking precaution, or worrying even for a second that his comrades might be in there, his mind is immediately taken over by the determination to get to Niall, no matter the state he's in. He picks up his speed on his way to the bunker, and can see the head of a soldier once he reaches the first step, but doesn't slow down. He barrels into the small, lit room, and he has no eyes for the two guards and the corporal standing in front of the crumpled figure that is Harry's friend. No, his eyes are glued to Niall, curled into the fetal position as he holds his stomach and lifts and arm in front of his face to protect himself.