The Devil's Blessing by Tony Hernandez Page A

noise as possible, Ingersleben mouthed a what happened? as they entered the downstairs chamber. Otto didn't say a thing. He and Knef just helped Wernher down the last flight of stairs and sat him down on the ground, bleeding. The Russians were making no secret that they were out there. There were voices, and they were growing in number and louder. Then they heard something that they never thought they’d ever hear again. Coughing. Not just any cough. It was the Cougher they had just released, only this time, there was a voice that interrupted his hacks. It was one that didn’t sound of a gracious friend searching to give out a thank you but the voice of an angry hunter ready to hurt his prey.
    Then a gunshot rang out. Then another. Some more movement, and then some yelling. Someone had obviously shot at nothing and made the men all the more angry and annoyed in the world above.
    All this was being guessed at by the men and one woman downstairs. The basement had once felt large; now it felt like a tiny room that was closing in on them. The lamp was left on, and no one seemed to have the courage to turn it off.
    Although the gunfire was frightening, it did have a good consequence; the Russian voices became more distant.
    Then, it happened. The baby started crying.
    At first, it wasn't too bad. The mother shushed the boy, and that seemed to calm him for a bit, but then he persisted. The voices that were nearly overhead were now a distance away, or so it had sounded. But then, the child started to wail, a cry that was coming from the infant's throat. Guttural.
    "Would you silence that child!" Wernher said, in as strong a voice as he felt would keep him from detection. But it was no use. No matter how much she rocked or how much she tried covering his mouth in a blanket, baby Jens persisted in wailing. The voices above them returned.
    In a last ditch attempt to save their lives, Knef tried breast feeding the child, right there in front of them. Lafenz looked away, having never seen a woman's breasts before. Killing a man was something the young man could commit and look at and not even blink. Show him a women’s breast, and he became flushed with embarrassment, ready to run.
    The other men just looked on. Their very lives depended on this last ditch effort.
    Try and try as the mother might, the baby kept pulling away from his mother's breast, obviously not hungry. What was bothering the child, no one knew, and now wasn't the time to find out. They were moments away from being discovered and, in turn, being killed.
    Otto couldn't believe it. After everything he had been through, they were all about to die, he was about to die. All over a crying child.
    Couldn’t that child understand that it was signing its own death warrant, not just theirs?
    Why did it want to die?
    Couldn't it understand that it was killing all of them?
    Couldn't it hear that that the footsteps were now directly above them?
    Couldn't it understand that one life was worth the cost, so that others may live?
    Otto didn’t realize what he was doing until he was doing it. He grabbed the baby from his mother's arms, ripping him from her breast. Otto dropped Jens to his side and took the baby by the ankles.
    Otto flung the baby like an axe towards the brick wall, killing him instantly. The sound wasn't a crunch, but more of a wet thud, since the baby's skull was still not solid yet. Even though the baby's head was spilt open and no sound was coming from him, that didn't stop Otto. He swung the baby against the wall again, right near the hanging lamp. This time the head did explode, pieces of baby flesh flying all over the room, landing on everyone, including his mother, her breast now covered in blood, milk, saliva.
    The room became a bit darker, not just because of the blood that now stained the lamp, but because of the cruel deed that Otto had just committed.
    As if unable to understand what he had done, Otto dropped the infant corpse on the ground like a hot