WHEN SHADOWS EAT THE MOON

 

Nazi wolves are at the door; Fallen Angels are in the sky. What else could go wrong for Major Richard Blaine?

WHEN SHADOWS EAT THE MOON

“Life is a long preparation for something that never happens.”

― W.B. Yeats

 

I stiffened as the Voice I thought I left behind me rumbled in my mind.

‘The love that rose on stronger wings,

Unpalsied when he met with Death,

Is Comrade of the lesser faith

That sees the course of human things.’

“You read poetry?”

Again, that strange laughter. ‘I am poetry.’

I felt an invisible finger prod my chest.

‘And only fools think they can leave Us behind, Richard Blaine. You are no fool. Now, is the time for you to stop acting as one. Your Spartans are waiting for you to speak. Chop. Chop.’

The Voice was right. My Spartans were looking at me as if they were dogs hearing a kitten bark.

‘Oh, tell our Rabbi Stein he is one of the very few blooms We have planted that make Us smile. We especially like his “God turns you from one feeling to another and teaches by means of opposite’ s, so that you will have two wings to fly, not one.” Now, chop, chop!’

Theo and Amos had finished running down the stairs and went to either side of me. Amos elbowed Darael aside … politely. Smart of him.

I flicked my eyes to him. “Elohim says you make Him smile.”

“Wh-What?”

Theo didn’t give me a chance to reply, for he gruffed,

“What the hell were those disgusting mounds of steaming flesh back in that office?”

“The remains of König’s guards. Guess they needed their own sentries against his madness.”

I turned to Porkins. “What’s this about me being back? I never left.”

Reese scoffed, “The hell you ….”

He stopped mid-sentence as Sister Ameal suddenly appeared in front of me. I could only imagine the look she was giving him. 

I imagine Medusa’s would have been gentler.

“Ah, yeah, you did, Major. One heartbeat, you were looking up at that angel there flying away. And the next, you were a column of smoke being blown away by the breeze.”

Sister Ameal said, “Smelling of burnt flesh reminiscent of Auschwitz.”

Amos grunted, “That last was not necessary, Sister.”

“Yes, it was, Rabbi … to remind all here of the depth of depravity against which we fight.”

I tried to soothe Amos’ ruffled feathers. 

“I always imagined if I did go up in a puff of smoke, it would smell of cinnamon.”

Rachel sniffed, “As a matter of fact, you do smell of cinnamon now.”

André looked uncomfortable. “Only the power of suggestion.”

His face said even he did not believe his words.

Helen abruptly went from angel to mortal again, snaring their attention better than if she yelled,

“Are you waiting for the shadows to eat the moon? Two hundred SS commandos are right at our door, and their three Tiger tanks will do the knocking for them.”

Johnny Knight nervously asked, “What about them Neah, Neim, … them hybrids whatevers?”

Darael scoffed, 

“They are lagging back to see if the psychotic Nazi troops with their clanking tanks can spare them the ignominy of having to soil their tentacles with our flesh.”

Vincent grunted, 

“Just let them get within rifle range, I’ll show them humiliation.”

Evans said, 

“That nun over there was going to give us a slideshow or something to show us just they all were doing when you showed up.”

I turned to her. “Slideshow?”

She snorted, “Simple language for simple minds.”

“Kit” Carson huffed, “We love you, too, Nun.”

Sister Ameal met my eyes. “I gather you would hold it against me if I killed that one?”

Carson swallowed, “I know I would, Lady.”

I shook my head. “Play nice.”

“This is me playing nice.”

“Slideshow, remember?”

Her brilliant white habit nodded once sharply. “Holographic projections of events in real time like so.”

She waved her open right palm in front of her and a flickering vista of the village as if seen from an airplane appeared across the blackened cement of the shattered road.

“Oh, man,” groaned Pablo Dimitri. “Oh, man. Oh, man!”

I didn’t blame Pablo. 

The village was surrounded by bristling troops. They seemed to number many more than two hundred. Many, many more.

Sister Ameal frowned disappointed at me. I was used to that look … kind of. All right. Not at all.

“Your Party Line filled with those tribal chieftains had quite an effect on Colonel Verner as he listened in. He now knows you were playing him for a fool. The increased troops are a direct result of his fury at that.”

Rachel gave me a wry “I told you so” look.

Helen sighed, “Richard will think of something. He always does.”

I was glad she thought so. I wasn’t so sure.

Sister Ameal said, 

“I can give your Spartans weapons that will deal with even this many troops. But they are cruel, savage, inhumane.”

Amos, still rubbed raw by the gas oven remarks from her, uncharacteristically said in a husk, “That is all right with me, Sister.”

She locked eyes with him. “I will remind you of that later.”

Sister Ameal drew in a deep, deep breath.

“These are terrible weapons. The Nazi are experimenting with crude versions of these on the Eastern front. 

Ironically enough, one hundred and ten years from now, the Russians themselves will have perfected them into a handheld version much like your Stinger missiles.”

I fought a shiver. What kind of weapons were they that they could affect the avatar of Sentient so?

She was still talking. “They call them Solntsepyokm, Blazing Sun.”

She turned my head to fully face her. “Who are your strongest stomached Spartans?”

I turned to Reese, but I shook my head at soft-hearted Porkins who objected. “Trent goes; I go.”

Reese said, “Franklin can reload for me.”

I nodded. “Jace, you and Knight. Theo, you and Ant.”

Amos said, “I go with Theo.”

“What the hell is going on here? Where the blue blazes am I?”

I turned around. Oh, why the hell not? It was helmetless General George S. Patton.