CHAPTER TEN.   WAITING FOR THE WORMS

THE TRUCK CREAKED TO A STOP. Both Schofield and Mags share looks. They're both on edge.

"Bridge is down!" The driver shouts towards the back.

Mags' pinkie tightens against Schofield's. Panic begins to settle in her veins. How will they get to Écoust on time now? The sun had begun to set, leaving them only a handful of hours to report to the colonel of the Second Devons to stop the attack. "End of the line." She mutters under her breath.

"Looks like this is our stop, then." Schofield pushes himself out of the seat. Mags is quick to repeat his actions. Slinging her pack and Blake's rifle strap over her shoulders, she follows him out of the truck. "Good luck, all of you."

"Keep some of that luck for yourselves, mate." Private Rossi calls out to them.

Sepoy Jondalar climbs out of the truck. He digs through his jacket pocket and pulls out a tobacco tin. "I think you'll need these more than me." Setting the tin in her hand, he offers her a kind smile. "I hope we meet again, Margaret." Tears brim at her eyes as she flings her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. She pulls back after a fleeting moment, blinking away the tears that threatened to slip down her puffy cheeks. He climbs back into the truck, nodding a final goodbye to Mags.

The captain that had found them earlier approaches the two. "Next bridge is six miles. We'll have to divert."

Schofield shakes his head. "We can't, Sir. We don't have the time."

"Of course." The captain nods. Holding his hand out, he gives a small smile. "Best of luck to both of you." After shaking Schofield's hand, the man turns to shake Mags'. "Keep this man alive, Nurse."

"'Til my dying breath." She smiles as she shakes his hand.

"That's what I like to hear." The captain chuckles. He turns to leave them, but stops in his tracks. "Corporal, if you do manage to get to Colonel Mackenzie, make sure you've got more witnesses than the nurse."

Both the soldier and the nurse furrow their brows. "They're direct orders, Sir."

"I know," he speaks, his eyes turning grim, "but some men just want the fight."

They both nod. "Thank you, Sir." Schofield nods as the captain turns and leaves. He yells a few instructions to the driver. The two watch as the trucks drive off. The soldiers gaze at the two as they slowly grow further and further. His arm nudges Mags'. "Let's get a move on. Can't waste anymore time than we already have."

Turning to the broken bridge, they stare in curiosity. Halfway through the bridge, it's blown up and caved into the water below. How were they supposed to get across? Perhaps they could climb on the side. Or maybe even walk across the top? Both slowly approach it. This would be a bad time for her to tell him that she never learned how to swim. Maybe the water wasn't that deep. It didn't look too deep. Maybe waist high. She stares down as her hands wring together.

"Just follow close behind me." Schofield instructs her as he begins climbing onto the broken bridge. His movements are slow and careful, attempting to maintain his balance on the bars of the bridge. "You doing alright back there?" He calls back, glancing at Mags.

She remains at the edge of the bar. She refuses to move. Her mind screams at her to move, but her body refuses. "I..." She trails off, staring down at the murky water. "I don't think I can do this!" She calls out. "I just..."

"What do you mean?" He asks, stopping and still balancing as the bars begin to dip down towards the water. "Just walk slowly. If you fall, just grab onto the bars."

"Will," her eyes dart up, tears brimming them. "I can't do this, Will."

"I know you can, Maggie."

Her eyes widen. Only Alex had called her that. She balled her fists, her arms remaining at her sides. Maggie... She could do this. If she thought hard enough, she could hear her brother cheering her on. Sticking her left foot in front of her right, she began slowly making her way towards Schofield. Glancing up, she catches sight of plumes of smoke in the distance. It was the city of Écoust, still on fire. Taking a shaky breath, she finally catches up to Schofield.

"We have to jump across, okay?"

She shakes her head viciously. "No way in hell can I make that."

"We have to or else we'll just be stuck here."

Her hands reach up to rub her warm cheeks. She's still shaking her head. Thoughts swirl her mind. I can't do this, she thinks to herself, I'm not brave like him. More tears begin to build up in her eyes. Mags mentally scolds herself. Stop being such a crybaby, she yells at herself, but it's not her voice; it's her mother's. She stops all movement. Anger begins to seep into her pores at the mere thought of the wretched woman that raised her. "Okay," she nods, "fuck it."

Schofield readies himself to jump when a loud crack startles them. A spark erupts from the metal under their feet. Shots fired. He leaps, barely catching himself on the bars of the bridge. Mags takes another shaky breath before jumping. Her fingers catch onto the bars before quickly slipping off. She shouts in panic as she falls into the water. Adrenaline fills her. This was not how she had planned on meeting her maker - especially not in the middle of a godforsaken war. Her hands reach up out of the water, desperately searching for anything to pull her afloat.

Her lungs begin to burn. She can't inhale; to inhale was to drown. Her hands frantically search for something, anything. A hand wraps into hers, pulling her above water. With a loud gasp, she inhales. Another crack startles them as another spark erupts from the metal to their left. "Grab onto the bars!" Schofield shouts as he pulls her closer to the bridge.

Mags wraps her arms around the bars. She pulls herself through the water towards the concrete canal. Another crack and there's a splash in the water to Mags' right. She stops for a beat before moving faster towards the ground. Schofield is closely in front of her. They both climb onto the concrete at the same time. A chunk of the concrete quickly spatters up into the air after another shot.

The two run towards the steps of the canal, hiding behind the small wall as shelter. "There should still be ten rounds in his rifle." Schofield informs Mags. "I've only got eight so if I can't get him, you need to."

"I never learned how to shoot."

"Just aim and pull the trigger."

As she inspects the weapon, her finger accidentally pulls the trigger, firing the gun towards the air. Curses slip from her mouth. "I'm so sorry. Fuck." Mags hisses as she pulls her finger away from the trigger. "Just aim and shoot, got it."

Shaking his head with a sigh, Schofield turns his attention back to the building that held the sniper. With a quick and shaky breath, he pushes himself out from behind the cover and fires towards the large window. He fires. Another shot goes off, chipping the concrete directly to his right. He's quick to duck behind the cover and reload his round. Mags watches and repeats the action, knocking the empty shell onto the ground below.

He pushes himself up from cover once more, firing again. After ducking behind cover, he reloads and takes a moment to compose himself. It's quiet. Did he get him? Only one way to find out. He pushes up again, firing towards the building before ducking. Silence still.

"Did you get him?" Mags whispers.

He shrugs his shoulders before slowly moving up the steps. Mags is closely behind him. Their rifles are aimed and ready at their sides. As they begin quickly moving towards the building, they revel in the silence. Maybe the sniper was just waiting for them to come inside. Schofield pushes the door open, leading the way inside.

There's no movement on the ground floor. Not even a mouse stirs among the rubble. There's a staircase ahead of them. Holding his hand out, he silently tells her to drag behind a bit. Mags does as she is told, creating some distance between the two. He holds his breath as he silently climbs the stairs, still crouching. His rifle is aimed as he makes it up the second set of steps. A door is directly in front of him. He nears it with a soft and jagged breath. Pushing the door open with the barrel of his rifle, both he and the German soldier fire at the same time. Everything goes black.

Mags' eyes widen as Schofield's body collapses down the stairs in front of her. Her right hand covers her mouth to prevent a scream. She wants to cry. Is he dead? Her eyes squint to get a better look. His chest barely moves. He's still alive. She readies her rifle and slowly moves past her friend and up the stairs. Glancing past the door, she catches sight of the dead German sniper. She quickly drops her rifle and runs down the stairs to kneel next to Schofield. Hot, fat tears slide down her cheeks as she checks his pulse. It's there, but faint.

A pool of blood is slowly forming underneath his head. "Shit." She whispers as she gently pulls him upright. Pulling his body against hers, she struggles to pull herself to her feet. Her shaky feet begin to climb the stairs backwards, her grip on him tight. Her left foot slips on the second step, sending her back slamming against the stairs with a sharp pain. "Fuck!" She shouts in frustration. This can't be it. This won't be it.

Mags pushes herself back up, pulling Schofield up with her. Her feet slowly make their way up the rest of the staircase. Dragging him over to a wall, she sets him down as gently as she can. Frantic hands dig through her pack. The last roll of bandages in her pack. A dull ache forms in her bicep. Reaching back, she winces as her hand comes in contact with the warm and sticky blood that drips from her cut that had managed to reopen. Cursing, she ignores it and unfurls the roll of bandages and the small pack of gauze.

She places the gauze on the wound and begins to wrap the bandage around Schofield's head. Almost immediately, the bandage begins to soak up the blood that oozes from the back of his head. After finishing, she lets her body slump against the wall, Schofield's unconscious body leaning against her right side. His head rests against her shoulder and his back is tucked up against her side. Her arms wraps around him as she presses her head against the top of his. Tears immediately begin falling from her eyes. Stop crying, her mother's voice repeats. No, her brother's voice now, cry as much as you can; it's the only thing that separates us from the bad guys.

"Please don't die, Will." She sobs. Her body shakes violently as she lets loose the tears and sorrow she had bottled up over the past day. "I can't do this by myself. I'm not like you or Blake, I can't... I'm not brave. I'm scared. I'm just so scared." She cries against his matted hair. "I have to make it back to my brother, I need to know if he's alive. And I need you to meet him. He's going to want to know all about the man who saved my arse multiple times in one day." She lets out a humorless chuckle. "Or the one I've constantly bickered with."

Shaking her head, she lifts her head and leans it against the brick wall behind her. "You're just so difficult. One moment, I feel like we've known each other for years and the next, we're bickering like schoolchildren." Mags scoffs. She sounds insane. Her mind wanders back to Blake. A soft sigh escapes her lips. "I wish he was here. He'd know what to do. He'd probably shake you awake and get us on the move, all while telling some stupid story in his 'I know I'm right' voice." She laughs.

Glancing out, she notices that it's nearly completely dark outside. The sun has set; only a sliver of light is seen beyond the hills. They should leave, but all she can do is wait - wait for the worms to take over them. "I'm sorry about Blake. I'm sorry that Erinmore chose me. Hell, you both'd been better off without me. I've been nothing but a nuisance this entire trip. I know it, too. I just..." She trails off as her fingers gently run through his curls. "I don't know. Maybe I was in over my head when I signed up for this whole thing. But if I hadn't, then I'd have never met you or Blake or Leslie or Amelia or Jondalar. I'd still be at home, or hitched up with some boring man who only likes me because I can give him babies."

Her lip trembles. No, they had to make it out of here. "God, Will, I can't do this on my own!" She exclaims as the tears slip down her face. "I need you. I need you to sit here and tell me I'm being stupid and I need you to argue with me and I need you to help me and I just need you."

"And?" A rough voice whispers. She almost doesn't hear it, but she does.

"Will?"

"Keep going."

"What do you mean?"

"I know that's not all you need me for."

Mags almost punches him in that moment. She might have if she weren't so overcome with joy that he was still alive. "You're a fucking prick, you know that?" Letting out a laugh of relief, she holds him tightly in her arms. "Fuck you, you fucking arsehole. I thought you were fucking dead and I thought I was going to be stuck here and I thought-"

"I'm fine." He mumbles, almost leaning into her hug. It feels nice and warm and welcoming against the cold world that surrounds them. His eyes droop as his head rests against her shoulder. Glancing out of the window, his eyes quickly widen. "What time is it?"

"I'm not sure. I lost my watch a few months back in a guy's stomach."

Looking down at his watch, he curses at the broken hands. "We need to leave."

"You've got a major head wound, Sco."

"We don't have the time, Mags!" He pushes himself out of her grasp. Stumbling, he grabbed his rifle and slung the strap over his shoulder. "Let's go! Come on!"

Mags pushes herself up off of the ground. Her legs are sore and her left bicep stings. She slings the straps of her pack and the rifle over her shoulders. They both look out of the window as a flare lights up the night sky. Germans. "Sco, you and I are in no shape to outrun them."

"We have to try."

"And we'll die!"

"That's better than sitting here like cows waiting for slaughter!"

She lets out a defeated sigh. She's too tired to argue. Her hands reach up and rub her face. "I'm not going to fight you on this."

His hands reach out and grab her wrists. "Listen to me," her eyes look up, meeting his gaze, "I don't care what you or your mother think, you are brave. You can do this - with or without me. You're the bravest person I know. I wish you saw that." With that, he pulls her towards the staircase.

"Do you really think that?" She stops him.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't believe it."

Nodding, she glances down at his hand still wrapped around her wrist. "Okay. Lead the way."