Red Devils

36

Wilkins held Jocelyn tight as they watched the golden sun dip below the horizon. The grounds of Pocklington Hall were silent, as if every last man and woman were resting in preparation for the next fight. ‘Promise you’ll never leave me again?’ she whispered.

Wilkins looked deep into her beautifully clear eyes. He pictured them becoming clouded with infection. He pictured Jocelyn’s perfect lips drawing into a snarl and her teeth biting into his flesh. He pictured his wonderful fiancé transformed into one of those hellish creatures he’d fought in Bastogne and at Polonezköy, damned to walk the Earth in endless pain for all eternity.

‘No, my love, I cannot make such a promise.’

‘But you must.’

‘Not until the war is won, Jocelyn. Not until the world is rid of both the Nazis and the undead menace they have unleashed.’

‘But Robert, you’ve done your part.’

‘No, Jocelyn. My fight has only just begun.’