The Faun

(Vespa serial)

How could I think of peril? There are times you just slog through. There is no other way. Then something changes. Whatever reality I had driven into, I needed to continue, war or no war. Dents or no dents. And so far, the greatest peril had come from me.

You have been a friend, I told him. You have cared for a stranger. Other figures lay stretched on cots nearby. And I'm not even a soldier.

He smiled. But you have become one. The young medic, himself in a wheelchair--I supposed why I had first thought him to be a faun--rolled his chair closer. We don't have much. But, if you could do something for us, I could find you some gas.

And a map?

He looked thoughtful. I suppose. Where are you headed?

I didn't hesitate. Home. There was of course the question of the Sus.