by this time, translated since the doctor spoke very little English.
“You are lucky to be alive, young man. It seems you were thrown from the plane before it was engulfed by flames, so you are not badly burned. There are just a few spots that have been singed. You have three broken ribs on the left side and your right leg is fractured in two places. Your left wrist is badly sprained and you have a slight concussion. Otherwise, you are right as rain.” The doctor chuckled at his own joke and went on. “I will tape up your ribs, put your leg in a cast and bandage your wrist. I have some salve for the burns. You will need to stay in bed for several weeks at least and I will check on you whenever possible. I will give you something for the pain.”
It took roughly an hour for the doctor to do all the things he promised, but to Nick it felt more like three. Jean helped him sit up as the doctor taped up the ribs and the pain made his head swim and his eyes water. The leg was bandaged with two planks on either side to prevent moving or bending. The rest was not as bad. Dr. Attal gave him a shot of morphine to ease the pain and Nick fell into a dreamless sleep before the two men even left the cellar.
Nick woke up with a start and tried to focus. He was still groggy from the morphine and he had no idea how long he had been asleep. Something must have woken him. It didn’t take long to figure out what that was. He heard it again almost immediately. It was the barking of dogs followed by loud banging on the front door upstairs. So they found him. Nick’s drowsiness fled as a surge of adrenaline flowed through his veins. He couldn’t move, not that there was anywhere to hide. He hoped the Lavelles would not suffer too much for helping him. Nick reached over with his left hand and groped on the crate in the darkness looking for the snapshot of Lily that he put there when Jean stripped him of his uniform. He couldn’t see her face, but he held it close to his heart needing her to be close.
Someone must have opened the door because the heavy thud of jackboots on a wooden floor could be heard from above. There seemed to be at least three of them, judging by the footsteps and what seemed like an entire kennel of dogs. They were barking madly and Nick could hear them scratching at the floor. It wasn’t long before he could hear the trap door opening, but he couldn’t see it like he did before. There was something blocking him from view. The Germans must have descended the ladder because he heard their guttural voices from somewhere close. The dogs were still barking, but they seemed to have stayed above. Nick saw a tiny sliver of light appear under what must be a door and realized that his cot was in a separate room of the cellar. How long till the Nazi’s figured out there was another room? He heard them talking to each other and calling to the man they left upstairs with the dogs. The light under the door flickered and then disappeared as they went back up the ladder. Nick heard the trap door slam and let out his breath. He vaguely wondered if Guillaume was made to piss in the cellar as well to disguise his smell.
The Germans were shouting something upstairs, but he couldn’t make anything out besides the cadence of their voices and the softer voice of Jean answering them. Eventually the door slammed and all got quiet again. Nick must have dosed off again after a time. The morphine was still doing its job and he was able to breathe a little easier, taking in big gulps of air to calm himself.
When he opened his eyes again the darkness was so complete that he couldn’t even see shadows. He had no idea how long he had been out, but he was cold, hungry and desperately needed a piss. It was very quiet upstairs and Nick prayed that the Germans did not take the Lavelles into custody on suspicion of aiding him. He closed his eyes and tried to breath evenly to battle his rising panic. He felt like he was entombed. The
“You are lucky to be alive, young man. It seems you were thrown from the plane before it was engulfed by flames, so you are not badly burned. There are just a few spots that have been singed. You have three broken ribs on the left side and your right leg is fractured in two places. Your left wrist is badly sprained and you have a slight concussion. Otherwise, you are right as rain.” The doctor chuckled at his own joke and went on. “I will tape up your ribs, put your leg in a cast and bandage your wrist. I have some salve for the burns. You will need to stay in bed for several weeks at least and I will check on you whenever possible. I will give you something for the pain.”
It took roughly an hour for the doctor to do all the things he promised, but to Nick it felt more like three. Jean helped him sit up as the doctor taped up the ribs and the pain made his head swim and his eyes water. The leg was bandaged with two planks on either side to prevent moving or bending. The rest was not as bad. Dr. Attal gave him a shot of morphine to ease the pain and Nick fell into a dreamless sleep before the two men even left the cellar.
Nick woke up with a start and tried to focus. He was still groggy from the morphine and he had no idea how long he had been asleep. Something must have woken him. It didn’t take long to figure out what that was. He heard it again almost immediately. It was the barking of dogs followed by loud banging on the front door upstairs. So they found him. Nick’s drowsiness fled as a surge of adrenaline flowed through his veins. He couldn’t move, not that there was anywhere to hide. He hoped the Lavelles would not suffer too much for helping him. Nick reached over with his left hand and groped on the crate in the darkness looking for the snapshot of Lily that he put there when Jean stripped him of his uniform. He couldn’t see her face, but he held it close to his heart needing her to be close.
Someone must have opened the door because the heavy thud of jackboots on a wooden floor could be heard from above. There seemed to be at least three of them, judging by the footsteps and what seemed like an entire kennel of dogs. They were barking madly and Nick could hear them scratching at the floor. It wasn’t long before he could hear the trap door opening, but he couldn’t see it like he did before. There was something blocking him from view. The Germans must have descended the ladder because he heard their guttural voices from somewhere close. The dogs were still barking, but they seemed to have stayed above. Nick saw a tiny sliver of light appear under what must be a door and realized that his cot was in a separate room of the cellar. How long till the Nazi’s figured out there was another room? He heard them talking to each other and calling to the man they left upstairs with the dogs. The light under the door flickered and then disappeared as they went back up the ladder. Nick heard the trap door slam and let out his breath. He vaguely wondered if Guillaume was made to piss in the cellar as well to disguise his smell.
The Germans were shouting something upstairs, but he couldn’t make anything out besides the cadence of their voices and the softer voice of Jean answering them. Eventually the door slammed and all got quiet again. Nick must have dosed off again after a time. The morphine was still doing its job and he was able to breathe a little easier, taking in big gulps of air to calm himself.
When he opened his eyes again the darkness was so complete that he couldn’t even see shadows. He had no idea how long he had been out, but he was cold, hungry and desperately needed a piss. It was very quiet upstairs and Nick prayed that the Germans did not take the Lavelles into custody on suspicion of aiding him. He closed his eyes and tried to breath evenly to battle his rising panic. He felt like he was entombed. The
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