Stuart was making his way down the sidewalk a few paces in front of me. A cold wind coming down from the hills that ringed the city blew an odd bit of trash down the dirty, snow-covered street next to us. In the dim light of the full moon, I could see it was a discarded MRE wrapper, probably from one of the aid convoys that had arrived a few days before.

I swept my eyes at the broken windows and roofs across the street for what felt like the thousandth time since we’d stepped out of an alley half a mile back. Snipers almost never made their way down this far into town, but I couldn’t see far enough out into the hills for it to matter, and I had to look at something in between looking for a place to take cover every few seconds.

The wind caught the sweat running down the back of my neck, bringing a chill down my spine. Steam was starting to stream off the curly hair below Stuart’s watch cap, so he was feeling it too.

At my feet, the faint glow of a gas lamp came through a crack in the old curtains someone had hung against a basement window. The locals came out during the day, especially if there was fog, but there wasn’t any food or fuel to be scavenged at this hour. The stumps of trees that used to line the street, cut off as low as they could to gather something to keep folks warm, didn’t offer anything to them after dark, either.

Only fools and people up to no good were out and about after dark. I’m still not sure which category best fit us.

I was glad Stuart didn’t take a moment to look around while my legs were silhouetted, though. Drawing someone’s attention wasn’t a good idea just then.

We came to an intersection with a bigger road, wide enough that there was a cement median in the center. Under the light of the moon, I could see a few dark spots in the concrete where potshots from the hills tagged someone recently.

Another shiver ran down my spine as I strained to see any movement first to our right, then our left.

A distant thunder broke the silence, followed a few seconds later by the crash of something getting hit a few blocks away.

Stuart took a knee in the last doorway, disappearing into the deeper shadow. I did my best to blend into the sidewalk a few steps behind him. We both did our best to look up and down both roads while we caught our breath and waited to see what would happen next. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the little sliver of light behind us wink out.

“South of us,” Stuart breathed out quietly. “Half a click or so?”

He couldn’t see me, but I shrugged. “Far enough, but too close. How much further?”

Stuart opened his mouth to answer, but then stopped and looked to his right.

A sound, piercing the quiet darkness, carried on the wind as another shell crumped into the city. Music, played on violin or something like that, came from the opposite direction of where the mortars were landing.

We stayed still and listened, both to the tune and for the sound of shots or impacts getting closer. Far off, we heard the staccato firing of some rifles, a couple more explosions, then nothing but the music. My breath came out in little puffs as we waited to see if the folks up in the hills had run out of shells or had just gotten bored.

I saw Stuart’s smile in the moonlight as he pushed off from his doorstep and start jogging across the intersection.

“God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay……” His low tenor rose to echo off of the pockmarked buildings around us.

Cursing under my breath, I moved to keep up. Hopefully, we’d be at our destination and safely warming ourselves next to a fire before the musician finished his carol.