Galaxy's Edge Magazine: Issue 7: March 2014 Read Online Free PDF Page A

admit that I even soiled my trousers.
    “You won’t feel anything,” it said. “Farewell.”
    There was a scream and a khaki blur of motion as a woman, solid as a mountain, charged in through the barn door. She swung a rifle around her head and clubbed the alien to the ground. Then she stood over its inert body and aimed the weapon at me.
    “Hande hoch, Kraut!” she roared.
    “I’m British,” I said. I turned slowly, so she could see my tied hands.
    It took her a few moments, but she seemed to decide I would offer her no harm. Of course she had recognised the uniform but was simply being cautious. She untied me, although she kept the rifle close by. It turned out she was an English nurse who’d managed to escape just as her hospice was overrun by Jerries. She had stripped a dead soldier of his uniform and weapon and had been making her way towards the British lines. As darkness fell, she had been looking for shelter when she’d noticed the barn bathed in the eerie blue light.
    She was convinced the alien was some kind of Nazi experiment gone wrong and I chose not to correct her. I didn’t think she would have believed me anyway. She wanted to kill it, to put it out of its misery but I convinced her not to. So she decided to let it live and to question it once it awoke. Carefully, she tied its limbs then dragged it onto a pile of hay in another stall. For a while she examined the silver tube, the ‘ray gun’ the alien had dropped, but she was unable to operate it. She dropped it in her pocket.
    I built up the fire again until its meagre warmth started to penetrate my frozen flesh. Using German supplies I’d found, I prepared a meal of sausage and sauerkraut. The English nurse found a well outside and drew enough water to try and wash my soiled uniform. She draped it over a barrel near the fire. Wearing nothing but my undershorts, I sat next to her. I moved closer as we shared our stories and our body heat. The sausage and cabbage tasted like manna from heaven and filled our bellies. And as we ate, our spirits rose. She only slapped me once, when I leaned in a little closer to sniff her. It was worth it. She smelled like a rose against the animal smells of that squalid barn. But she held me no grudge. Chivalry is not dead, and before long she gave me her greatcoat to help keep me warm. Once we were sated, we decided to get some shut-eye. I crawled back into my stall and lay down. I drew the greatcoat over me like a blanket with the stalks of hay prickling against my bare back.
    From my makeshift cot I watched her as she went through her bedtime routine. She dropped and did thirty press-ups on the dirt floor, then did fifty rapid chin-ups on a wooden beam before stripping and cleaning the rifle; faster than any of my comrades could. Gosh, she was a fine figure of a man. Finally she crawled under the greatcoat beside me. I could feel her naked flesh pressed against mine. It was as smooth and warm as any side of roast beef and I wanted to devour her. Then, while we lay there side by side in the dark stall, a strange thing happened. I fell head over heels in love. Ah, the first flushes of romance, the halcyon days of young lust. At midnight, she proposed to me. We celebrated by making love in the straw, her on top of course, before I fell asleep, wrapped safely in her large, muscled arms.
    It seemed like only minutes later that I was once more awoken, this time by the alien shaking me. I sat upright, wet myself once more, and then drew back in fear. I bashed my head against the weathered timber wall. My head throbbed as my girl snored on. The alien raised his hands, palms out, and attempted a smile.
    “How did you escape?” I asked.
    “Rope will not suffice. It would take metal to restrain me.” It rubbed its head. “She is strong, that one.”
    I followed the creature out to the fire. “You better hope she doesn’t wake up.”
    “She won’t,” it said. It showed me the silver tube. “I used this. She will