Page 65 of The Unknown Birds

Resigned, Stew offered his hand, and squeezed hers tight, his mouth a thin straight line. She hugged him impulsively, and he whispered, “You can do it, Ash the Flash.”

She nodded to Rook and the sergeant major, and they nodded back, Rook mouthing, Fly safe like a lucky charm.

No ladders remained to be found, so the only way out was the same way Ash had come in—back up the pile of unfortunate broken men.

Careful not to tread on anyone’s face, she scrambled, whispering, “Sorry, I’m so sorry,” the whole way up.

At the top, she was met with an immediate barrage of gunfire that sent her toppling back down into the trench.

“Are you hit?” the sergeant major demanded.

“Only clumsy,” she gasped. “Let me catch my breath, and I’ll have another go.”

This time, she slithered out into No Man’s Land more gingerly than before and paused a moment, then pushed up to a crouch. But the force of a too-close mortar shell knocked her back where she began, lying face up in the bottom of the trench.

“Blimey…” she gasped, each breath a total agony.

Rook and Chapman dragged her into the protection of the dugout, and Stewart ripped open her coat, searching for a wound.

“Wait!” She caught his arm before he went for her shirt as well. “Only winded… I think.”

He nodded, scanning her torso with concern, while Rook’s thumb slid up her neck to check the pulse point beneath her chin.

“Give me a moment,” Ash gasped, back aching from where she’d fallen. “Third time lucky. I promise. I’ll try again.”

“Dinnae be daft,” Stewart said. “I’m going. No argument.”

“No bloody point,” Chapman growled, a hand on Stew’s shoulder to still him. “I don’t need either of your pretty heads for a sieve. Bloody pigeons all over Trafalgar Square, but you never actually have one when you need it, hey?”

“Send Max,” Stew whispered.

Ash could barely look at him through her own defeated shame, but he stared back at her without an ounce of blame. The dog had a job to do, same as anyone, and he was determined they would make it out alive.

Hearing her name, Max jumped up and padded over to sit in front of Stewart, awaiting his next command.

“The dog?” Chapman asked. “You sure, lad?”

“If anyone can get through, it’s her.”

“Right then.” He retrieved the note from Ashley and rolled it inside the pouch on Maxie’s collar, before scratching her ears and patting her on the head.

“There’s a good girl.” Stew pet her face tenderly and rested his forehead against hers for the briefest moment. “You know what to do, lass. Ain’t nobody can touch you. Fly now, if ever in your life you flew.”

She nuzzled his chin and snuck in a lick right on the mouth. Then he moved to their left-hand flank and fired off several rounds for cover. When he nodded at Max, she streaked off, bounding over the top in a single leap, then darted in a jagged pattern, faster than Ash had ever seen a living creature move.

Darkness settled upon them, but neither side slackened their bombardment, and the quartet of Surreys were beginning to despair.

“Swear to God, those bloody bastards are using up every last bloody ounce of ammo they can bloody find,” Chapman grumbled. “If I had any bloody sense, I’d have run away with the carnival when they came through Surrey,” he added under his breath.

Ash glanced at Rook, surprised to learn their stuffy sergeant had such whimsical dreams, and Rook’s eyebrows were so high they almost touched his hairline.

“All right, all right, what did you do before the war then?” Chapman demanded.

Rook cleared his throat and rubbed his neck, a little self-conscious, though he’d never seemed embarrassed to tell Ash. “I was a student.”

“Studying what?” Stewart asked.

“The organ,” Rook said, and Ashley realized with pleasure that she might be the only one he’d shared this piece of himself with before.