Camp X by Eric Walters Page A

understand. Now, before I go, does either of you have any questions?”
    â€œYeah. Are you L.C.?” I asked.
    â€œL.C.? Now how did you know my rank?”
    â€œYour rank?”
    â€œL.C. . . . Lieutenant-Colonel.”
    â€œWe heard a couple of the soldiers talking about having to meet you,” Jack said.
    â€œBeing the commander I’m given many nicknames by the men. L.C. is one of the more polite ones. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, your appearance has gotten in the way of my work and I still have much to do before the end of this evening.”The car slowed down and then came to a stop. Almost instantly our escort, his name was Bill, opened the door and jumped out. There had been three men in the room during the questioning that the Lieutenant-Colonel had prepared us for, but he had been the one doing most of the talking.
    â€œTime to get out, boys,” he said.
    â€œHere?” We were on a deserted stretch of the highway a few blocks from our house.
    â€œWhy here?” Jack asked as he climbed out and I followed behind him.
    â€œOrders.”
    â€œBut I thought you were driving us home.”
    â€œThis is as close as we go. We can’t chance you being seen by your neighbours getting out of a car. It could lead to questions. You have to walk from here.”
    â€œAre you sure our mother isn’t home yet?” Jack asked.
    â€œBy a strange coincidence, her bus broke down on the trip back from the plant. It won’t be, shall we say, fixed, until the moment you enter your house. And remember that you cannot discuss what happened with anybody, including your mother.”
    â€œWe know.”
    â€œGood. Goodnight.”
    â€œYeah, goodnight,” Jack said.
    â€œAnd thanks for the ride,” I added.
    Bill nodded. “Thank you for the information. We’ll be in touch,” he said, and he jumped back into the car.
    The door slammed and the car roared off, leaving us in a hail of dust and gravel.
    â€œDid you hear what he said?” I asked Jack.
    â€œSure . . . he said goodnight . . . and thanked us.”
    â€œAnd said they’d be in touch.”
    â€œHe was probably just saying that like people say ‘take care’ or ‘have a pleasant night.’ It doesn’t mean anything.”
    â€œI’m not so sure.”
    â€œI am. What else could they ask us that they didn’t already ask us tonight?”
    â€œMaybe you’re right,” I admitted.
    â€œI’m always right!” Jack declared.
    â€œSure you are. So I guess that makes them all German spies, right?”
    â€œShut up and let’s get walking.”
    The highway was completely deserted, no cars in sight for a long stretch in either direction. We veered off and cut through an empty lot to come out on our street. Most of the houses were dark, but there were a few porch lights on. I wondered if people in those houses were waiting for somebody who was on the same bus that was carrying our mother.
    We came up to our house. Our porch light was on too, and for an instant I was afraid that Mom was home until I remembered we’d switched it on before leaving that afternoon. We probably shouldn’t have left the light on—it was wasting energy and that could hurt the war effort—but we hadn’t wanted to come home to a totally dark house. We circled around and went in through the side door. Jack threw on a light.
    â€œHello!” he called out.
    â€œWho are you calling?”
    â€œJust making sure Mom’s not home yet,” Jack answered. “We’d better get into bed, it’s incredibly late.”
    I looked up at the clock above the piano. It was three minutes before two. If I hadn’t known where Mom was I would have been worried to death. She was always home by twelve-thirty, or quarter to one at the latest.
    Jack and I went to our bedroom and quickly changed into our pajamas. My brother threw his clothes onto