From Dusk Till Dawn

Chapter 15: Unending nightmares-Joseph's pov

The next morning doesn't come quick enough but when it does I awaken to stiff bones and thundering voices.We are hurried off the bus into the freezing morning before we have time to wake up properly. Sun blinds my eyes as I step onto the soft grass.

Where are we? It takes a couple of minutes for my eyes to adjust.
It appears we're at a train station in the middle of farmland. My surroundings look completely different from yesterday's. Then the image of that poor young woman being shot re enters my mind.

Glancing over at the kind poetic woman we met last night, I see that the baby is swaddled in between her arms. A thin blanket grey blanket is all that the baby has to keep warm now. The baby doesn't look too well in the face. It's young enough to still need it's mother's breast milk.

Everyone on the bus is well aware that it won't live much longer if it doesn't get the nutrients it needs.
No one on our bus has a child younger than five years so the baby won't get the milk it needs. We've tried to give it water but the baby is just too young.

"Do you think if we asked one of the soldiers for a milk bottle for the baby, do you think they'd give us a milk bottle?" George asks me curiously.

"No boy. It must always be breast milk. If you give the baby milk from a cow it will get severely sick." The poetic woman from last night tells us.

"She's right George! All we can do now is pray for the baby." Ma tells us with little hope in her voice. George and I both know praying won't save the baby.

Although the sun is out and the sky is blue, the temperature is well below freezing. We waste no time filing onto the train.

Later that day as the train bumped along the tracks we discovered that the baby had passed away in it's sleep. It desperately needed its mother's milk but wasn't able to get some. The soldier who escorted me had promised us on our next stop we'd find a woman who could take care of the child but we were too late. My heart breaks for the child and it's mother.

The train stops and the soldiers allow us to bury the cold child. Parents shield their children from the deceased baby as we exit the train. Watching each of the soldiers' faces as we dig a hole for the infant, I notice they all wear masks of uncertainty.

Colonel Decker closely follows us as we bundle the baby in ma's soft blanket. Even pa didn't complain about giving the blanket away as I hadn't expected before. He stands behind me and George with a stern and angry look on his face. We all wear similar faces.

After the infant is buried the poetic woman and Viola's ma, say a few words and then close the service with a prayer. We pray for happiness in heaven with its mother.

"Hansen!" Colonel Decker calls to the young soldier who escorted me last night. Hansen snaps out of his trance which is focused on the pile of dirt.

"Get these criminals back onto the train! We're already late." Spitting on the grass besides him he walks the other direction. A few soldiers rush after the Colonel like they're his trained dogs.

Hansen navigated us all to the waiting train. The train station is one of the smallest I've ever seen. There's a small building where the tickets are bought and a couple of wooden benches outside of the building.
Instead of buying tickets, we're forced onto the old, smelly train. We were prisoners riding a train without an expense. Once everyone's piled back into a single train car we remain silent.

To distract my thoughts I glance around wondering about our very old transportation. The design and frames is extraordinary. "It was made in 1914." Hansen tells me. I thought I'd just thought it but I must've asked it out loud.