The Last Nazi
By: Anthony O’Brian
Copyright 2013 Anthony O’Brian
The Last Nazi
Chapter 1
The faded swastika was nearly fifty years old. The grey, weathered wood was worn down by wind, sun, and dust until the grain stood out. It was hard to see close up, but from a distance of about 15 feet you could see the outline of what used to be a hurriedly painted, black swastika. In a couple of places the paint had ran down on the wood and dried before getting too far away.
There was something else on the wood, but it was not as discernable –almost indiscernible entirely. It was dried blood. It had been splattered against the wood underneath, to the sides of, and some above the symbol. That was not too be seen now, just a few slightly darker spots near the base.
If you stood back you would see that you were looking at the wall of a building of some sort. If you stood back even more you could see that it was the outside wall of a barn.
***
It was close to midnight, yet it was extremely bright this June night, due to the risen moon. It was almost as if you could see everything that was around you in an eerie glow. The swastika was somewhat visible. The barn, the yard, the trees bordering the property, and the old, small, three story farm house was plainly seen. It stood there square and silent. No lights shown. No car in the driveway. No sign of life. Yet, it was inhabited. An old man slept soundly on his worn out bed, his wispy white hair disheveled over his face. He was barely even moving as he breathed. His loyal sheep dog lay asleep at the foot of his bed on an old, worn, knitted, oval rug.
The dog’s eyes opened and fixed straight ahead. Then he lifted up his head and elevated his ears slightly, unsure of the strange sound. Then suddenly, he jerked up, growled once and ran to his master’s side. Whining, he licked his hand. When that failed to rouse the old man he grabbed the sleeve of his pajamas with his teeth and pulled. This brought the man awake with a jerk that belied the appearance of his age. He came to a full sitting position and stared around the room wide-eyed, as he listened. His dog had never woken him up like this before, but he knew why. I always knew the time would come, He thought to himself. He swung his feet to the floor and shuffled over to his get his house coat on.
***
Headlights illuminated the sign, as the six men looked around in their glare. They all wore dark suits and seemed to have the same physical appearance, except for one, who appeared to be the leader of the small group. He was shorter than all the rest, but seemed to be brimming with pent-up energy. His step was resolute, his gaze was frightening and fearless.
‘End of Road’, the sign read. It was worn and had not been repaired or painted for years, they could not tell how long. The grass beyond was tall and thick, there was every indication that this was indeed the end of the road. The leader went around the sign for a closer look. He stepped over the trash and junk that had accumulated at the sign’s base and went a little further. Stooping down, he tugged at a handful of grass. It came up with dirt and gravel breaking loose from its roots. He went a couple of more steps and did the same. More gravel. This was it!
Returning to the group, he simply nodded his head with the faintest smile upon his lips. They all returned to the cars and got in, the doors shutting resolutely. Not one word had been spoken during the entire stop.
The cars backed up and the first turned toward the side of the sign, there tires crunching noisily in the thick gravel. The first car started edging around it, precariously close to the irrigation canal. It made it and waited. The second car came with equal caution and success.
The greater challenge in their minds now was going to be staying on the road through the tall grass and weeds. They would have to take it slow. Both drivers were the best at what they did and there was no concern for safety, only being there in time. They needn’t have worried. After barely driving forty feet the grass dwindled gradually and was diminished to almost nothing. The headlights now penetrated into the muted darkness, yet they could not see what lay at the end of the road. Both drivers pressed down the accelerators. The time had come!
Chapter 2
The old man was now in the living room, having descended both floors in a desperate hurry, his worried companion close beside and behind. They needed no candle; the moonlight was beaming through the windows, besides he knew his way around even in the dark. He was used to getting around in the dark, for he had been doing so for twenty years now, with no electricity. He lived in the dark. Always hiding, always waiting, always knowing the day would come. I knew they would come, but I didn’t know it would take this long, he moaned as he put on his garden slippers and let himself swiftly and silently out the door.
He went as fast as his eighty year old frame would let him, clutching his coat around him, more in fear than in cold. They were coming; he knew he had not much time.
Indeed, as he rounded the corner of the house the headlights became visible through the thick trees. As he came around the other corner of the house, opposite the old driveway, the headlights broke through the trees and illuminated the house.
He was out of breath now and his heart was pounding in his chest as it never had that he could remember, he felt like he was having a heart attack. His face was ashen from the exertion upon his ancient body, but more so from the terror that gripped his throat.
The moonlight bathed him in its eerie glow, not letting him escape into the darkness. There was only one place that he could go –he knew it, but was equally terrified at the thought.
***
The cars came to a stop and then he heard the doors shut. There were more than he thought there would be. The eighty-year-old man stooped down and tugged at a corner of the rotting lattice which wound around the dilapidated porch at the end of the house. He got down on his hands and knees and crawled through the small opening. His dog came after. He pulled the lattice to and crawled further into the darkness.
***
The cars’ engines were shut off. The six men got out with slow movements, all staring at the small house rising up three stories in the moonlight. The car doors shut with that same silent resolution. Though none of them would admit it, even to himself, there was something uncanny about the scene before them. The house was falling apart! It had not been painted in decades; the windows were just as old. Loose boards were evident on the sides of the house. A couple of out buildings could be seen on the other side of the old farm house, they too had the same appearance, and one had a bad tilt to it. This was all cast in the moonlight to create a weird scene.
For the first time this night the six men, hesitated slightly. The air seemed stuffy against their collar. Maybe they were wrong! This place had no one living here! It had a creepy, haunted feeling to it. As these thoughts ran through their minds, their leader approached the house slowly, looking everywhere, at everything. Not in fear, but in complete placid, thorough examination. Suddenly, he came back to the men and spoke the first words to them.
“This is the place.” His voice was a deep, clear, tone that was both pleasant and menacing. He motioned toward the three in the second car. “Take a look at the house. I am going to examine the buildings.”
The response was immediate. Their fears were forgotten and their mission was reinserted prominently in their minds. Going to the trunks of each car, certain equipment was pulled out and they strode toward their task.
***
“It’s unlocked.” The lead man whispered to the other two as they stood by the front door.
“We’re in luck, then. Open it.”
The doorknob was turned easier than expected and the door was opened without a sound. Strange. Immediately,
flashlights were turned on, their tactical beams slicing through the dimness of the interior. They went in cautiously.
***
The old man was now shivering in spite of the warmth of the summer night. He had always felt that he would face it down when the time came, now he was cowering beneath his own porch shivering from fear. It is my age. If they would have come sooner I would have faced them down! He consoled his mind with this thought when he heard the door to his house open.
The door he had gone out was through the living room, they were going in the same way. The porch above him was off the kitchen and the stairs had fallen in. They would not likely come up on the porch. He heard them speaking, their voices rumbling, but no distinct sounds. They were going to find him he knew it!
***
The leader, with the other three was examining the other buildings. Then switched on their short tactical lights as well and shone the beams on the front of the first small building, looking for anything, any clue. The building looked completely unused except for a small hole in the side that seemed to have a look to it that would indicate something was going in and out on a consistent basis. The leader shone his light on it.
“Something is living in there.” He said.
“Whatever it is, it isn’t big enough to be what we are looking for or to hurt us.” The second man said half in jest and half with seriousness.
The leader turned and glared at him. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing, just talking.”
“What do you think?” The leader motioned toward the house and other buildings, his tactical light beam spinning erratically as he did so.
“The place looks deserted . . . haunted, or something like that. There is no one here.”
“Let your opinion suit yourself.” He turned back to the task at hand and went around to the front of the building and reached for the door. As his hand touched the rusted handle there was a sound like . . . like . . . hard to describe, but like a faint, grinding sound. He paused, and then drew his automatic. “Open the door.”
The third man stepped up and opened the door as the second man also drew his weapon as well.
As the door creaked open they pointed their lights into the interior unsure of what they would see. The place erupted with shrieks and a sudden flurry of movement, screeching filled their ears as dust flew up in the air and a multitude of figures spun out of control crashing into each other and the walls, emitting more shrieks.
The men jumped back as the chaos came toward them and ejected itself out of the open door.
“Chickens!”
Chapter 3
The men at the house were making slow progress. It was like a museum of the forties! Everything was old, antiques now. They picked their way along, momentarily forgetting their mission, looking at everything around them.
The lead man expressed their thoughts in a whisper. “This is amazing! It is like an antique shop. This stuff must be worth a fortune!”
“It reminds me of a haunted house.” The second man whispered back.
“Look, guys, why are we whispering.” Number three guy spoke aloud. “There is no one here. This place is deserted. Even if the old man is here, he has got to be in his ninety or close to it.”
“I suppose your right.” The lead man spoke. “I didn’t really mean to whisper, I guess it was just this old house.”
“Yeah, whatever, this place is a dump!” It actually wasn’t. It was very neatly arranged and everything was in order, it was just old. He turned and started looking in the kitchen. “Hey, look at this!”
All three came over to see what he was shining his light on. The kitchen was nearly spotless, but there was nothing really to see.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know…something.”
The lead man spoke up again. “It is clean.”
“We can see that.” The third man evidently wasn’t enjoying himself.
The lead man turned off his light and turned to face the man in the darkness. “Listen,” he wanted to say his name, but remembered the strict orders not to use names. “Have you forgotten why we are here? I realize you are skeptical, but remember why and quit complaining.” He paused, and then added more kindly. “Look, man, I know it has been a long search, and sometimes we have come up empty-handed, but we could be on to something here. This could be the place! If you want me to I could put in a transfer for you.”
“No sir,” The tone now of respect and sincerity. “You’re right. I am getting a bit frustrated, but I am not finished.”
“Good! Now, look again.” His beam was turned back on and shone around the countertops. “Clean. No dust, no mess, not rat feces, nothing. Spotless.”
“I see what you mean.” The second man chimed in.
“Exactly, someone is here.” The lead man turned back to the living room. “Let’s go upstairs.”
***
These words were drifting down to the old man, hunkered down beneath the deck still shaking from the gripping fear. He pulled his coat tighter around him for comfort. He heard the men’s footsteps recede from the kitchen which was almost above him and go across the living room to sound upon the wooden staircase.
It was odd how the sound reached him. Almost as if he was in the same room with him. Was it possible that it is some quirk of the nature of this house and its design? He thought. Yet, even as he asked the question of his self he knew it was not. The floor of the home was not altogether sealed and certainly he could hear through the cracks between the flooring boards. Still, it was something more. He could clearly hear them. Something else even more distressing to the old man was that he could hear the men that were outside by the buildings. He shivered again and again pulled the coat around him tightly.
***
As the three men in the house climbed the stairs the other three men moved on from the chicken shed to the next building. They came across a neat little garden that was very orderly and looked to be flourishing. There is definitely someone living here! They all thought. There was no doubt now. The chickens could be explained. They might be fallow chickens that are keeping their own, but this garden . . . It was tended by someone who not only knew what they were doing, but put great importance on it.
They walked around the garden and came to the barn. They approached the great big doors; they were ajar enough to admit entrance. The small group stood for a few seconds, all three feeling as though there was great significance in this one building, but not really understanding what they felt.
The leader nodded his head and stepped up to the open door. He switched off his tactical light and went through. The others quickly followed his example and slipped into the gaping, foreboding darkness.
Once inside they stood waiting for the next move. Where was their leader? Suddenly, one of the other two men felt a hand grab his arm from behind. His heart almost leapt into his throat and it was all he could do to keep from crying out. Then he heard a whisper in his ear.
“Signal the other man to keep quiet. I am not sure what it was, but I thought I heard something towards the back of the barn.”
The second man only nodded in the darkness, as if he could be seen assenting to the information. He reached over and pulled the third man to him, repeating a summary of the instructions.
Their leader whispered again. “There did you hear it?”
The second man had not, but found himself holding his breath, listening.
Then he heard it! As did the other man.
A quiet, soft, sobbing sound of someone that was frightened and was hopeless.
The leader tugged at the sleeve of the second man and pulled him hard toward the side of the barn. He in turn tugged at the other man and they all went over toward the western wall of the barn, carefully feeling their way along. They listened intensely, but could only hear the muffled sound of their feet in the ancient dust on the ground as they cr
ept along.
At last they reached the western wall and came to a stop. They seemed to sense what to do now and they needed no instruction. They all listened. Nothing. Still they listened. Still nothing.
They moved along the wall toward the back of the barn and toward the faded swastika painted outside the back wall of the barn. They heard something and froze! It was a low sob again coming from the back of the barn just in front of them, not twenty feet away. At once they all started toward it quickly, but silently.
The swastika outside almost seemed to darken and glow, alternately, in the moonlight as they approached closer.
After making their way ten feet or so a voice spoke up that once again froze them in their tracks and put a shiver down their spine.
“No, please, no!” It was not loud, but clear.
The leader threw his light up, pointing it toward the direction of the voice and switched it on. The beam of light nearly blinded them as it reflected off of the bare wall of the barn.
There was nothing there!
They all switched on their lights, frantically playing their beams around the back of the barn, looking for something, but not sure what. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not only was there not a person from whom the voice could be attributed to, but there was nothing there at all. The barn was nearly completely empty. They stood there bewildered, hearts racing, slightly frightened, yet unsure of what to think. They had all heard it!
Suddenly, it happened!
The scream of intense pain nearly burst their ears and the words that followed cut through them like a knife. They were in Hebrew!
As they stood for a moment transfixed by the saturation of their senses, both body and soul, unable to respond, something slammed into the wall from the outside and another scream! That voice was crying in Hebrew for mercy from God.