“All in a day’s work it appears, I’ve got to say, Mr. Rosenberg. The Luftwaffe enjoyed their stay in London.” Mr. Ebbings said dryly. “Germans did a number on most of the factories. I hope that it doesn’t affect the workforce. Seems like they want us to continue producing more and more equipment for the army.”
“It would be lucky to think like that, Mr. Ebbings. However, we haven’t gone to the factory yet, so we cannot accurately assess the damages to the factory. Mr. Rockbell might help in the process, but I fear that injury may keep him bedridden a little longer.”
“Daniel Rockbell? Are you sure that the man is as good as you say? You say that he is a very talented engineer and mechanic, and yet that man had gotten into an accident that lost him an arm. What are you trying to say, hire a cripple to help in the industry? That’s an outrage.”
“Mr. Ebbings, I assure you he is as good as I say he is. I’ve known him for a while, and Ford considers that man a valuable engineer in their automobile industry. Why focus on the negatives, Mr. Ebbings?”
Mr. Ebbings turned his face towards Rosenberg. His fat little chubby face reminded him of that spoiled child. This man was an industrialist through and through, and still was as sharp as he was when he wasn’t held down by the weight he put on. He put on a smile and said snarkily.
“So be it. That man has been nothing short of a nuisance, let’s focus on the positives now, then!” That snarky laugh he let out, resembled Porky Pig's.
Then, the two men stopped cold dead at their tracks. Room 38, this was where Mr. Rockbell stayed. The room was in a dimly lit corner of the hallway, and it felt off. Rosenberg knocked on the door, and called for Daniel. However, there was no answer.
“No answer?”
“...Is something going on?”
Rosenberg twisted the doorknob, and opened the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Rockbell.” Rosenberg happily greeted. “Looks like we were lucky tonight. Come, let's get breakfast at the bistro..."
Rosenberg peered over towards Daniel. The poor man was already up, sitting as straight as an arrow on his bed. He was silent, perhaps a rather ominous clue on what would happen if they succeeded in the storm. The man sat down on a nearby seat and took off his shoes. Daniel looked way more nauseous than he’d usually be, and he had a rather ominous stare. He experienced more pain from his lost arm.
"Daniel?”
It was a matter of concern. He had the tools needed to get the information out of that traumatized man. Rosenberg took in a deep and concentrated breath. He calmly let out any stress he had, and looked at Ebbings with a look of hands-off. Ebbings understood and went out the door.
“Daniel.” He snapped his fingers. “Daniel, are you alright? You look rather pale.” He questioned calmly. “Come, let’s get breakfast at the bistro. Mr. Ebbings is here and is interested in your service.”
“Doc?” Daniel said, confused. “Doc? I still feel sick.”
“Why Daniel? Did you catch the flu?”
“No, I went out.”
“You went out?”
“I went out, and I saw things that I wasn't supposed to see.”
Rosenberg was a bit surprised. Daniel would usually follow orders. Why would he…
***
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Once upon a time, it was a dark and stormy night. The storm reigned over the skies, however it couldn’t be seen. It sent a harrowing destruction across the houses all over the cities. It was as if that silly fascist dictator wanted this flame extinguished. Men and women hid in bomb shelters, the Tube, their homes if the storm dared to spare them. Daniel saw some posters plastered hastily on the walls of some brick-laden homes. It was dimly lit, but he could definitely see them. Keep calm and carry on. It felt like a hypocritical spit on the face from Parliament, but what else could they do but maintain the stiff upper lip. There’s war across the channel.
He had disobeyed some clear instructions to not go around walking whilst he was still injured. But the pain had subsided mostly, and he was itching to go out and walk around the city. He did not care, perhaps that person might have survived. Either way, there’s no foul play nor regret in that. Certainly.
Daniel could hear echoes of shouting in the distance, and when he turned to see who it was, a numbing silence echoed in the wide boulevard. A rising plume of gray began to contrast with the dark blue night sky. He began running cumbersomely towards those in need. He came across Ground Zero— a burning residential abode, and was surrounded by some locals who were trying to free the people from a flaming building. The size of the flames was a sight to behold, for it was engulfing other buildings.
It reminded the young man of what had happened a few years ago.
“Look at the size of the fire, good lord!”
“Where’s the damn fire brigade?!”
“Come and help me and my children! We’re dying from the smoke!”
“Get a fucking ladder!”
The babbling of the locals was just a bit shocking to Daniel, but he simply continued to watch. Then, the sirens attracted more people. The fire brigade arrived, heckled by those concerned, and began to spray a line of water against the flame monster that he set free.
“I’m sorry about that, sir.” The firefighter said. When Daniel held out his arm to help the firefighter up, the firefighter simply shook her head and got up herself.
“No thanks. I can handle myself.”
Then, they made eye contact. Daniel was shocked. It was that person.
“You should get to safety. With that one arm of yours, it could get dangerous.” She said, with that look that all the posters had.
“But how could that be?” He whispered to himself. It was something he’d never seen before. But the look on that woman’s face was as brave as the men fighting in the frontlines. He was shocked. But, he shook his head, and continued to stare at the house.
As the fire intensified, the brigade began to roll the ladder up against the windows, and some of the residents began to climb on. They were covered in a dark soot and ash, but the shouting couldn’t stop. Suddenly, another siren began to blare. This time, it wasn’t a fire truck. It was a squadron of Stuka dive bombers terrorised with the horns of Jericho blasting against all that was in their way.
The crowds began to disperse while the fire began to intensify once more. The fire fighters however, were unfazed and continued to fight against the danger. A group of soldiers then appeared. At that moment, order was somehow regained in the boulevard. Daniel was dumbfounded, and wondered if this war was to reach the other side of the pond.
“Look!” A member of the crowd screamed. Apparently, a mother and her baby began to stand on the edge of the window sill, one hand the baby, the other on the window. It looked rather precarious, and many were shocked at the woman’s tenacity (or stupidity) to stand there.
“Don’t do it!” Daniel screamed. He didn’t want blood in his memory again. Then, the ghost gripped against his arm again. The firefighters on the ladder demanded the ladder go higher, but it was still too low for the woman and the baby in her hands. As she teetered over collapsing against the sill, some people showed up with a cloth and began unfurling it.
"Hey, you! The one with a single arm!" A voice rang. It was a soldier. The light from the flames illuminated against his stoic face, and it made him look like an intimidating drunkard. However, Daniel himself was at the same height as the soldier, so it didn’t look as intimidating.
"Me?" Daniel replied.
"Yes you. Come here, you should stay back since you're a man with an injury."
"Can I at least stand behind the crowd?" Daniel said, somewhat annoyed.
“Sure you can. But I’m warning you. Don’t come close to the building. Might get another injury, laddie. All the hospitals are full of people coming in with diseases, injuries, disabilities, and shelter. Germans won’t care.”
Daniel stood there pondering, then turned back to the crowd. There was a harrowing shriek as the woman decided to jump. The men with the cloth managed to catch the baby but the woman fell on the sidewalk and a harrowing shriek filled the night. Scarlet red blood leaked from the woman.
The horns of Jericho couldn't compare to the helpless cries the baby let out. Everyone felt guilty. As the baby continued to let out a cry of sadness and the ambulances rolled in, Daniel spotted that firefighter looking speechless… Everyone was as silent as the aftermath of what had happened above the sky. He has deserted us in our time of need, they thought, and that set off a spark that lit a powder keg.
Suddenly, all those posters made sense.
“I wish I were back in the States.” Daniel wistfully said, before throwing up.