Page 203
Story: Valor
“In that case, we better get going.” He raised his hand to attract the server’s attention. “You may want to see the place first before making any big decisions. How is your stomach?”
“I feel much better. Let me get this.” Meghan took the wallet out of her knapsack.
“Don’t worry about it.” He touched his phone to the pin pad the waitress brought to the table. They exchanged a few sentences, out of which Meghan only understood the words for thank you.
She gathered up her courage and repeated the phrase. The server nodded politely and replied in English, so much for practicing her Czech. Meghan took one more sip of her tea and got up.
Oliver held the door for her. She stepped into the parking lot. The fog was gone. The sound of screeching tires grabbed her attention. A black Land Rover swerved onto the mountain road, leaving a cloud of dust behind.
“That car—” she spun around, right into Oliver.
His arms shot up, steadying her.
“Let’s go,” he said with such resolve that she feared Oliver would chase after the guy down the twisting road. Oliver unlocked the car, but before they got in, Meghan reached for the windshield wiper. She unfolded the piece of paper that someone had stuck underneath it. The message was written in block capital letters.
LEAVE WHILE YOU CAN.
Her trembling hand flew to her lips as she passed the note to Oliver.
“Do you want me to drive back to my house?”
“No.” She bit her bottom lip as adrenaline coursed through her veins. “Now I really want to see the mill. These people, whoever they are, seem to be really keen on scaring me away. I want to know why.”
They got into the car, but before Oliver started the engine, he reached over and gently squeezed her hand. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
She turned toward him, silently wondering why he had made such a promise and how this high school teacher was planning to keep it.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Northern Moravia, 1942
Fred,Hedvika, and Jakob ran through the forest. Branches and underbrush lashed against them, their lungs burning with exhaustion. Fred had lost his sense of direction a while back but would not say that out loud. Hedvika’s face was smeared with tears. Jakob’s burning red cheeks rubbed raw. Fred knew that if they followed the river upstream, they would get to the top of the mountain. Aside from that, the rushing water drowned out the sound of their footsteps. Or so he hoped. The higher they climbed, the more difficult it would be for the Nazis to catch them.
“Fred,” Hedvika gasped. “We need to slow down. Jakob can’t keep up.”
“We can’t stop until we confirm they are not after us.” The echoes of the gunshots still rang in Fred’s ears. He wouldn’t let them get her. He would rather die himself. “I’ll carry him.” He reached for the boy.
Fred hoisted the boy up on his back. Not much heavier than a sack of grain. He prayed under his breath that Hedvika would be strong enough to keep up. There was no way he could carry them both. If he were to think of one good thing in this horrific situation, it would be that she no longer wore her fancy clothes. His sister’s old dress hung loosely on her, but the shoes seemed to fit. The sturdy boots were ugly in comparison with the polished leather ones she wore this morning, but she could run in them.
“Are you good to go?”
Hedvika nodded.
“I’m thirsty,” the boy whined into Fred’s ear.
“We’ll find some clean water soon. You can’t drink from the river,” he said.
“Where are you taking us?”
The unshed tears he saw in her eyes broke his heart all over again.
“There is an old shepherd’s hut up in the mountains. I have been there once with a friend.”
Of course, he wouldn’t tell her that the friend was Mark Sokol, his cousin on Mother’s side, a poor relative, who was hired every spring to help drive the sheep into the high pasture lands. Fred was allowed to help him. Once. He had not forgotten the experience of sleeping under the open skies. But no one was chasing after them at that time. If the hut was still there, they might stand a chance unless Fritz decided to send dogs after them. How did he not think about this earlier? He turned his ears to the sounds of the forest, trying to ignore the rushing water. Was that a distant bark?
“We need to cross the river,” Fred said breathlessly.
Hedvika stopped. She was panting for breath. Her eyes grew wide with fear as she looked at the white water rushing over sharp boulders.
“I feel much better. Let me get this.” Meghan took the wallet out of her knapsack.
“Don’t worry about it.” He touched his phone to the pin pad the waitress brought to the table. They exchanged a few sentences, out of which Meghan only understood the words for thank you.
She gathered up her courage and repeated the phrase. The server nodded politely and replied in English, so much for practicing her Czech. Meghan took one more sip of her tea and got up.
Oliver held the door for her. She stepped into the parking lot. The fog was gone. The sound of screeching tires grabbed her attention. A black Land Rover swerved onto the mountain road, leaving a cloud of dust behind.
“That car—” she spun around, right into Oliver.
His arms shot up, steadying her.
“Let’s go,” he said with such resolve that she feared Oliver would chase after the guy down the twisting road. Oliver unlocked the car, but before they got in, Meghan reached for the windshield wiper. She unfolded the piece of paper that someone had stuck underneath it. The message was written in block capital letters.
LEAVE WHILE YOU CAN.
Her trembling hand flew to her lips as she passed the note to Oliver.
“Do you want me to drive back to my house?”
“No.” She bit her bottom lip as adrenaline coursed through her veins. “Now I really want to see the mill. These people, whoever they are, seem to be really keen on scaring me away. I want to know why.”
They got into the car, but before Oliver started the engine, he reached over and gently squeezed her hand. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
She turned toward him, silently wondering why he had made such a promise and how this high school teacher was planning to keep it.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Northern Moravia, 1942
Fred,Hedvika, and Jakob ran through the forest. Branches and underbrush lashed against them, their lungs burning with exhaustion. Fred had lost his sense of direction a while back but would not say that out loud. Hedvika’s face was smeared with tears. Jakob’s burning red cheeks rubbed raw. Fred knew that if they followed the river upstream, they would get to the top of the mountain. Aside from that, the rushing water drowned out the sound of their footsteps. Or so he hoped. The higher they climbed, the more difficult it would be for the Nazis to catch them.
“Fred,” Hedvika gasped. “We need to slow down. Jakob can’t keep up.”
“We can’t stop until we confirm they are not after us.” The echoes of the gunshots still rang in Fred’s ears. He wouldn’t let them get her. He would rather die himself. “I’ll carry him.” He reached for the boy.
Fred hoisted the boy up on his back. Not much heavier than a sack of grain. He prayed under his breath that Hedvika would be strong enough to keep up. There was no way he could carry them both. If he were to think of one good thing in this horrific situation, it would be that she no longer wore her fancy clothes. His sister’s old dress hung loosely on her, but the shoes seemed to fit. The sturdy boots were ugly in comparison with the polished leather ones she wore this morning, but she could run in them.
“Are you good to go?”
Hedvika nodded.
“I’m thirsty,” the boy whined into Fred’s ear.
“We’ll find some clean water soon. You can’t drink from the river,” he said.
“Where are you taking us?”
The unshed tears he saw in her eyes broke his heart all over again.
“There is an old shepherd’s hut up in the mountains. I have been there once with a friend.”
Of course, he wouldn’t tell her that the friend was Mark Sokol, his cousin on Mother’s side, a poor relative, who was hired every spring to help drive the sheep into the high pasture lands. Fred was allowed to help him. Once. He had not forgotten the experience of sleeping under the open skies. But no one was chasing after them at that time. If the hut was still there, they might stand a chance unless Fritz decided to send dogs after them. How did he not think about this earlier? He turned his ears to the sounds of the forest, trying to ignore the rushing water. Was that a distant bark?
“We need to cross the river,” Fred said breathlessly.
Hedvika stopped. She was panting for breath. Her eyes grew wide with fear as she looked at the white water rushing over sharp boulders.
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