Gabe - Five

Gabe

I probably should have been paying better attention to Erich, considering that he had made more than one unexpected move that night. But there was no way I could have prepared to fly out a third-story window in his chokehold. Zero. None. Nessuno.

For all the excitement that had been built up, the expedition hadn’t lasted long. That’s not to say it wasn’t terrifying, or that I never thought I was going to die helping the guys win their pride back. We were apparently just better at sneaking around in the dark (and I knew bloody well where my experience came from) than the west block boys expected.

I’d just spent a long, awkward minute with Erich in the corner behind the chest. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best idea to pull him down with me, but I had also managed to save his a*s, which may have actually put me one step closer towards getting on his good side (that is, if he actually had a good side).

Anyway, I was still a little bewildered from that experience when we suddenly went sailing through the air. If he hadn’t been strangling me within an inch of my life, I probably would have screamed in terror. The ground rose up to meet us at an alarming speed and all I could think of was how I was actually going to die on the quickly-approaching pavement.

Nothing that terrible happened, though. Erich’s ripped sleeve caught on the ledge protruding from the side of the building, slowing us down. Then it tore away and we landed on the soft ground of the unplanted flower beds that lined the building. I never even touched the ground, but remained curled into a ball in his arms with both of us gripping each other’s necks like our lives still depended on it.

I cracked one eye open to make sure we were still alive. When I decided we definitely were, I untangled myself from Erich. “What the hell, man?” I wheezed, winded from the fall and the strangling. “What was that?”

Erich looked at me darkly. “I just saved your goddamn life,” he growled. “Steigen Sie von mir, verdammt noch mal.”

“What?”

“I said, get off of me, goddamn it!”

He pushed me off and I rolled away, finding my legs to be pathetically wobbly under me. “Where’d they end up?” I asked. Jim and Hersch were nowhere in sight.

“S**t, I don’t know,” Erich said, looking around. “You don’t think they… Heilige scheiße!”

Hersch had dropped to the ground right between us, startling us both, “Che diavolo?” I hissed, speaking in Italian before I could stop myself. “What the hell?” I tried again.

“Sorry,” Hersch whispered, dusting himself off, “we hit the gable.”

He nodded up and we looked in that direction to see Jim dangling from a second-story window. “Jim,” Hersch called up, trying to be heard and silent at the same time, “just drop. It’s not that bad.”

Jim made an audible squeak and let his hands slip, falling on his face with a thud. We couldn’t help but snicker as he stood up and wiped the dirt from his nose, trying to play it off. “Great work, guys,” he said calmly as he fixed his hair. “We got it.”

“Um… actually, we got it,” Erich pointed out, grabbing the sack that I had forgotten I still had. My knuckles were white from clutching it.

“Hey, hey, I don’t think so,” Hersch said, pulling a smaller pack out and shaking it for emphasis.

Before we could figure out what each of us had found, a voice came from the dark, “Well, bravo, boys.” We all jumped and turned to see the figures of the west block guys emerging from the shadows. There were at least twice as many of them as there were of us. I instinctively shrunk back behind Erich.

“What do you want, a******s?” asked Jim, “We got what you asked for.”

“Oh, we know,” a faceless form sneered, “and we wouldn’t want you to get caught with it, so we’ll just take it off your hands.”

We all looked at each other without turning our backs to the enemy group. It would be easier to just let it go, hand over the goods to avoid a fight. It wasn’t like any of us felt the particular need to get completely sauced right at that moment. Also, though none of us would ever admit it, we were all at least a little scared of the west block guys. Erich and Hersch gave one another a little nod and took a step toward the looming figures, holding out their sacks.

Jim and I obviously misunderstood the secret nod between them, so we were completely unprepared when Hersch and Erich turned away and took off down the path, sacks swinging behind them. The Wankers were clearly just as confused as we were, and for a split second we just stood there and looked at each other before dashing down the walk after them.

We had a head start, and it turned out that Jim and I were actually faster than Hersch and Erich, whom we quickly caught up to. No one said anything as we tore around the corner, but Jim released a triumphant, “whoo-hoo!” when the door to our hall came into sight. We flew down the stairs, through the door and down the hall with the pack of adversaries at our heels. They were within arm’s reach of us when something slipped from Hersch’s sack and fell to the floor.

“Hey!” one of them cried, stopping short. We didn’t see what happened next, but it sounded like a dozen guys tripping over each other one by one. They were only just getting up by the time we fumbled the door open and slammed it shut behind us.

We collapsed in a heap on Jim’s bunk, laughing and swearing and yelling at the boys outside as they pounded on the door. Fortunately for us, we had forgotten that the latch was broken, causing the door to lock irreversibly from the inside if it was shut all the way.

“Open up, a******s, or we’ll break the door down.”

But we were on other side of our own personal fortress and in no way afraid of them anymore. “Afraid we can’t do that,” yelled Hersch.

“Even if we wanted to”

“And we don’t”

“You see, we’ve got the goods now!”

“We beat you, Wankers!

“Now f**k off!”

We all inexplicably yelled the last words together and continued to scream with laughter until the pounding stopped.

“F**k yes!” wheezed Jim, once we were able to speak. He rolled off the bed onto the floor, lying on his back with his face in his hands. “F**k yes!” It seemed to be all he could say.

“We did it,” breathed Hersch, who was flopped over in the desk chair.

“Hell yes, we did it!” Erich grabbed me and got me into what can only be described as a very friendly headlock. “Didn’t I tell, you kamerad? Didn’t I tell you we could do it?”

It seemed that the only way to be freed was to agree. “Sure did!”

“So, what did we get?” Hersch asked, being the first one to think logically.

“Beats me,” said Jim as he crawled towards the sacks.

Erich let go of me to reach for his own bag. He took out a bottle, popped the top and inhaled deeply. “Whiskey,” he said with a smile, “the old b*****d must hit this stuff hard!”

“Holy s**t!” the exclamation came from the other side of the room, where Hersch and Jim were gazing delightedly into their sack, the one that had contained whatever had distracted the Wankers.

“Kolega, I think we win this round,” said Hersch.

“You got something as good than this?” I said, swirling the whiskey in the bottle.

“Better,” smirked Jim, pulling the pack from his bag. “We got cigs.”

Reviews

[Dakota]

For four teenaged boys that may as well be a million dollars! They don't want to like each other, but yet they just can't help it! :o)

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[Coyote Poetry]

I like the positive feel of this chapter. Whiskey and cigarettes. A good bounty for wartime needs. No weakness in this chapter. Thank you for the excellent chapter.
Coyote