Page 35 of The Unknown Birds

For what felt like hours, they competed to see who could throw the farthest and the fastest until Ashley could barely raise her arm for another go. The captain and Sergeant Major Chapman did select a few men to transfer to artillery, and just when it seemed the Germans might be running low on their own grenades or stamina or both, Rook shouted, “The hell?” and reached for his rifle.

Ash peeked over the top just long enough to see a German soldier who’d taken matters into his own hands charging towards them across No Man’s Land firing a machine gun for all his worth. She ducked back down, as they all did, except for Rook. The smoke and flash of bombs made the whole scene look exaggerated and slowed down like a silent film as Rook took aim and fired one single shot, dropping the soldier to the ground in instant, deafening silence.

He nodded to acknowledge the kill, then solemnly hung his head and closed his eyes as though in prayer, and Ash wondered if he might not prefer to be a runner himself.

“Ashley, a message!” Captain Davies called. She handed her grenade to Tom and was at the Old Man’s side in an instant while he dashed off a note and passed it over. “Regimental HQ. Let them know we’re nearly out of bombs up here. And make sure Private Rook’s valor is mentioned in the dispatches.”

“Yes, sir,” she grinned, and took off running, fast as a leopard, determined to make it there and back in record time.

When she returned, the Surreys had just assembled for dinner rations, and Ash took her place at the end of the queue, hunger gnawing at her belly so hard she ached all over. No sooner had she lined up, however, than Rook pressed her shoulders gently against the side of the trench, shielding her from view. “You’re bleeding,” he growled, scanning her face and every inch of her body. “Were you hit?”

“What? No,” she said, following his manic gaze down to where blood had stained her uniform between her legs. “Oh God,” she breathed.

Her menses had come early—or was it late? She tried to do the math. What day even was it? She’d run out of bandages weeks ago and never had the chance to scrounge up more.

“What day is it?” Rook’s words echoed her thoughts.

Her head shot up to look at him. “What?”

“How many fingers?” he asked, holding up two.

“I’m not bleeding from my head. It’s—it’s—” She stared down at the mess trying to think up some plausible excuse.

“Blimey, Ash, that’s a lot of blood,” TomTom whispered, peeking around Rook’s shoulder.

“Dysentery, I—I think,” she stammered.

“Dysentery?” Rook repeated, as the officers began to notice his concern. “That’s all?”

She nodded quickly. “I’m fine.”

”You’re sure no one was…” He trailed off, pressing his lips together as Tom’s gaze darted back and forth between them and Captain Davies began to make his way over.

“No one was what?” she asked.

Rook closed his eyes a moment, miserably uncomfortable, but he forced himself to whisper, “No one was rough with you? Reid or one of the others?”

Ash shook her head. Rough with her? Did he mean like Billy Boyle? Had Rook sussed out she was a woman?

Or did he think—? She knew what some men got up to together. With as much running around as she did, it wasn’t uncommon to stumble into a quiet corner at the wrong time. Men had been court-martialed and imprisoned for such things, though it had always appeared consensual to Ash before she slipped back out the way she’d come.

“Everything all right?” Captain Davies asked, eyeing the blood stains, when Rook took a step back.

“Gut rot,” TomTom said. “Sure as shit.”

“Poor choice of words, don’t you think, Tomasson?” the captain asked, shaking his head. “How bad is it, Ashley? Can you make it to the dressing station on your own, or do you require an escort?”

“I’d rather go alone, sir,” Ash said before either Tom or Rook could volunteer.

Davies nodded. “Very well. I expect we’ll be here when you get back. Private Rook, that was fine work from you today,” the captain continued as Ashley walked away. But when she glanced back over her shoulder, Rook was watching her, until the trench turned and they all disappeared from view.

Afraid of being discovered and sent home, Ash almost didn’t go to the forward dressing station, but she couldn’t deny it would be the easiest place to restock her supply of bandages. She dragged her feet though, trying to think up the best plan to steal some and sneak back out unseen.

After all the smoke and grime of the front line, the inside of the medical tent was dazzlingly white. Ivory linens made up snowy beds separated by milky curtains, while nurses in starched dresses changed into fresh bleached aprons and pearly caps.

“Help you?” a nurse asked, looking up from tending her patient.

For a moment, Ash was shocked to see a woman there and merely gawped at her.