Page 36 of Summer of Fire
He kicked the bicycle and threw the raincoat into the long grass at the side of the track. Then he grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly behind him.
Lizzie tripped, but he dragged her along and her knee bled. Just as he pulled her to the edge of the grass, she ripped the yellow scarf from her neck and threw it onto the hedgerow before he tugged her around the corner and out of sight. Then he tossed her onto the grass behind some bushes, panting with a mixture of exertion and excitement.
She lay there, stealing herself for the inevitable. His eyes were glazed as he unbuckled his belt and slowly undid his trousers, clearly enjoying watching her squirm.
Frantically scanning the ground, she looked for anything she could use to defend herself, but there were only twigs and pebbles within reach.
This wasn’t how she had imagined her first time, but if him having his way with her would distract him so she could retrieve the envelope and deliver it to London, then at least something good could come of it. She was no match for him physically and had no way to fend him off.
‘What is your name?’ she said, changing tack, trying to slow him down.
‘You may call me, master,’ he growled, as he fumbled to remove his jacket and dropped his trousers to reveal his underwear and thick hairy thighs.
Lizzie was reeling. There was no way out of this. Her knife was out of reach in her raincoat, but maybe that wasjust as well. She had no taste for murder—even for someone like this.
She considered shouting for help but didn’t think anyone would hear her and she calculated she would only enrage her attacker further. And even if someone came, it was too dangerous. They could stumble upon the envelope.
No, she couldn’t risk being discovered as a British agent.
Lizzie’s mind ticked over and she partially resigned herself to what the soldier was about to do, even as bile rose in her throat at the thought of it.
There was nothing for it—she would have to sacrifice herself for her country. Could she just close her eyes and think of England, as the old saying went?
The soldier flung his heavy weight on her, crushing her slight body with his and grasping at the hem of her dress as he grabbed her bare thighs with his rough hands.
Despite Lizzie’s decision to let him have his way for the greater good, his violent actions filled her with pure rage, and she could not stop herself from fighting back instinctively. She lashed out at him with her fists as he pushed himself against her thigh and ripped off her underwear.
Lizzie couldn’t let herself just lie back and take it. Why should she let this ogre have her virginity just because he was stronger than her?
Although she was a virgin, she could tell he was mad with lust as he reached for her and manoeuvred himself between her thighs. It was a language that needed no words. They were both puffing and panting. He with his desire to dominate her, and Lizzie with the exertion of trying to fend him off.
He edged even closer, and his overpowering smell of stale sweat rushed at her, and she thought she would vomit.
The soldier was grunting now as he rubbed against her, and he was just about to force himself on her, when with allthe energy she could muster, she pulled her head up and in one swift movement bit his shoulder—hard—through his undershirt.
‘Ouch!’ He cried out and released his hold on her briefly as he touched his shoulder. Then he looked at her and said, ‘You bitch! You daughter of a whore,’ he screamed, losing it completely and whacking her across the cheek as he cursed.
Lizzie wriggled to escape him, but it was no good. Just as she shifted from under him, he pulled her back again, in a vice like grip.
‘I told you, French whore, we could have had a good time together if you played nicely, but now I am going to have to punish you. Think you can bite a German sergeant? I’ll teach you who is in charge here, and soon you’ll be begging for more.’
Lizzie’s face throbbed, and she lay there exhausted on the hard ground. There was no way out of this. Tears filled her eyes, but she did her best to hold them back. She didn’t want to give this brute the satisfaction of knowing he had broken her.
The fight seemed to excite him even more, and he reached for her again, intent on having her this time. Lizzie spat in his face, and he smacked her even harder. She started sobbing, as much from frustration as from the pain. There was no point fighting anymore, it was just making things worse. She screwed her eyes tightly shut, her heart beating wildly as she lay there pinned beneath him, praying silently.
Please God, let this be over quickly.
Then there was a rustle in the bushes and his heavy weight lifted off her like an answer to her prayers and she could breathe again. Lizzie opened her eyes and saw her attacker floundering in mid-air next to her, trying to fight someone off from behind him.
She heard a familiar, deep voice.
‘Touch her again and you die,’ said an ominous growl. ‘Second thoughts, I have to kill you anyway, you vermin Nazi rapist.’
The soldier was thrust aside like a helpless rag doll.
Then she heard two consecutive gunshots and saw the soldier’s eyes bulge as he collapsed on the ground. The silencer muffled the sound, but still it was loud enough to trigger Lizzie out of her daze.
Jack loomed over her as she tried to scramble upright. He leaned down and held out one hand to help her up. ‘Are you alright?’ he asked, his voice tender.
