I have but to leave him

“Okay, I’ll go.” I give in. Every part of me wants to stay with him, but I understand the gravity of the situation.

“Just… before you go,” he says wearily. “One more kiss.”

I kneel at his side, sobbing. Artyom looks up at me, and brings his bloodied hand to my cheek. I lean down and kiss him softly.

Pulling away is hard. I feel cheated by life. My heart is broken. With much ****, I stand. The sounds of shouting and dogs barking creep closer and closer.

“Tatya.” He says. I look down at him. “Get these fascist bastards.” He coughs weakly. “Every last one of them.”

Turning my back on him is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I leave him laying against a tree, dying in the cold. I ugly cry, holding nothing back, snot running from my nose. I feel empty inside.

A hand grabs my sleeve and yanks me forwards.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” It’s Dadonov. “That’s the most unprofessional god damn thing I’ve ever seen anybody do in all my years of service!”

“That’s why women shouldn’t be allowed in combat.” Smirnov comments from behind him.

I continue to sob. The look on Dadonov’s face softens when he notices.

“Come on.” He urges me. “I’m thankful that you’re still alive. You’re lucky you didn’t get killed, or worse, captured.”

“Did you find your little friend?” Smirnov asks smugly. I have no response for him.

“I told you so.” He says.

“Enough!” Dadonov snaps at him. “This is no time for your bullshit! Look around! This is all that’s left, and the last time I checked, we’re still deep in enemy territory. Fritz is going to be looking high and low for us so we need to put our heads together and find a way out of here.”

“What’s the point?” Smirnov asks. “Even if we make it, the commissar is going to have us all shot.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Dadonov says. “Now let’s go! We’re wasting too much time.”

Shortly after, the three of us encounter an element of fourth squad which survived. Based on our conversations and what each of us witnessed individually, we presume that everyone who isn’t part of our ragtag group of survivors has either been killed or captured by the German forces.

We limp our way into headquarters after an exhausting and stressful journey. It’s in the middle of the night when we finally return, and Dadonov stops us to deliberate before we report in.

“We have to figure out what we’re going to do.” He says.

“Looks like it’s time to cross that bridge.” Smirnov quips. “Somebody is going to have to wake the commissar from his evil slumber and tell him that we failed again, and that we defied his orders by retreating.”

“Well, which one of us is he least likely to kill?” Dadonov wonders.

The two of them both look at me.

“Not a fucking chance.” I protest.

“I think you have to.” Dadonov argues. “You’re our best chance. Maybe our only chance.”