THE SHOEBOX PURSUIT
FOOTSTEPS AND SHADOWS
By
Benjamin Maxwell
Copyright © B.Maxwell
INTRODUCTION
Much as life does, a story can unfold in an infinite variety of ways. From time to time there is romance. Every now and again there is adventure. And on occasion, if you’re lucky enough, there is genuine happiness. It is easy to find picturesque tales filled with damsels in distress, trapped in high and crooked towers, isolated and long-suffering as they wait to be rescued by the pompous and shallow male lead. And it’s just as simple to happen upon spine-chilling horrors that go bump in the night, overflowing with grueling monsters, flimsy heroes and a myriad of disposable victims. We, unfortunately, stray somewhere between the two. So we begin again…
It is now January 1944, and the wrath of the war still scorns the earth. Almost a year has passed since the incredible day Charlie Crumble and Billy Random crossed paths. Needless to say, Charlie and the boys had got rather sidetracked of late, with daring rescues, covert missions and straight-up face to face combat hindering their journey. The passing months had been blood splattered, soul destroying and downright weird to unqualified levels for the dynamic unit. They had all been warned when they took on the Alpha-Omega missions that they should expect the absolute worst conditions. But they had assumed those perils, as deadly as they may be, and as heavy as they would hit, would at least be grounded in reality! They were wrong. Sure enough, their quest had hauled them from their concept of sanity and opened up a world they did not recognise, leading them through dungeons of mass torture, revealing beasts beyond their comprehension, and forcing them down a path that would change them all forever.
But now they were back on their grand pursuit, high-tailing it towards their final goal, and my - what a rough road it had become. Since their encounter with the Nazi-wolves, more and more of ‘His’ projects had thwarted their missions and delayed their progress. Perhaps it was a distraction, perhaps it was all part of some as yet unknown master-plan, or perhaps it was simply for nothing more than ‘His’ own sick amusement. It was anyone’s guess. Conventional missions it seems, were a luxury they could not afford.
Yet in the here and now, things were very real indeed. Rumours and whispers had set them back on course, leading them further along their pursuit. Deep in the heart of Germany, a country now barely recognisable due to the terror it housed, the story continued to play out. In the midst of a torrential rain storm, in the dead of night, beneath a jagged cliff edge and surrounded by the burnt and sparse remains of a once glorious forest, our heroes Charlie, the geek Specks, and the American brothers, Yankee and Doodle, were once again fighting off a small squad of Nazi soldiers.
Charlie looked ever the hero. Despite the awful conditions that he had suffered over the passing months, he still looked healthy, clean, and rather handsome - posing more like a Hollywood film star than the humble and dedicated English soldier he really was. Specks, as the boys had come to expect, was not wielding a weapon of any sort. His glasses had clearly been broken several times, and the man still looked very out of place in such a situation. But despite that, he was right where he should be, one step away from Charlie, ready and willing to throw an abundance of ideas at his Captain upon request. Yankee and Doodle, however, were doing what they did best - pointing and shooting at bad guys. Pistols in both hands, as loud and wild as ever, firing at will, and giving the Nazis the hell they deserved. Billy, however, was nowhere to be seen.
Unfortunately for the group, their hunt had led them so far astray from the rest of the war, that they had not come across an ally of any sorts for months. They were very much on their own. Yet unluckily for them, enemies were in abundance. But for an assembly such as this, who had seen wonders of delight that the rest of us only get to see in our dreams, and witnessed atrocities of pure ghastliness that haunt our darkest of nightmares, a small squad of ‘normal’ Nazi soldiers was an easy day’s work.
So, without further delay, let’s get back into it…