Page 39 of The Nurse Behind the Gates: Completely heartbreaking and unputdownable World War Two fiction

THIRTY-SEVEN

Dachau, Germany

I climb up to the top tier of the bunks in my block, holding the rolled-up newspaper tightly beneath my arm. “Hans, I’ve got more,” I whisper.

“Am I truly hearing these words?” Hans utters, shimmying around to face me. I hold the paper out to him so he can smell the mouth-watering aroma of sliced beef.

“I’ve died and this is heaven,” Hans says.

“Eli, wake up,” I say, shaking the old man’s shoulder. He doesn’t stir right away, so I give him a moment.

I unravel the newspaper beneath my wool blanket, knowing I don’t have enough to share with anyone other than Hans, Eli, and Fred.

“Have you seen that guard who looks like he’s seen masses of goblins every day? You know, the one who’s always sweating and shaking when giving orders?”

“Yeah, I think I know who you mean. He’s by the second watch tower most afternoons, right?”

“That’s him,” Hans says. “He’s been the one delivering letters to me over the last year, but I hadn’t seen him for months until these last few days. He had a letter for me today, but said it might be the last for a while. He told me I could find Matilda at The Shop of Wonders in town. He said he couldn’t tell me anything more and he was sorry for that.”

“What do you think that means?” I ask, eager to find a reason to hope of getting out of this place.

“I wish I knew,” Hans said. “The look in his eyes didn’t paint a good picture, but to know that he’s seen Matilda, she’s still okay, and had a good enough reason to give me her location…it has to mean something.” It could mean many things, things that I might try to avoid thinking, but all we have is the idea of possibility and I won’t take that from him.

I split the food beneath the blanket and pass Hans his share, turning back to Eli to give him his. I give him another nudge, but he doesn’t flinch.

“Has he just gone to sleep?” I ask Hans.

“I think so, but he was already there when I got back from labor duty.”

I shake Eli a bit harder and he flops from his side onto his back. His eyes are closed, his mouth open, and his face pale—not necessarily unusual for when he’s asleep. “Eli,” I call out again.

Hans dives over my bunk and shoves Eli harder than I did. “Wake up, old man,” he says, his voice croaking. “Come on, wake up. I have more old-man jokes. Don’t you want to hear them?”

I stare at his neck, wishing there was more light filling the area here, but there isn’t enough to make out fine details like the sight of a pulse. I reach my hand over, clenching my fist before stretching out two fingers, and place them over his carotid artery beneath the shadows of his chin. My entire body shivers as I move my fingers around, hoping I wasn’t lucky enough to find his pulse at the first try, but his skin is cold—too cold.

My head shakes from side to side before I can find the words.

“No…he can’t be gone. He’s fine. He’s fine.”

I rock back and forth, keeping my hand against his neck. I told myself we’d all get out of here together or none of us at all. Now I know how this will end.

“Papa!” Hans shouts. “No, you can’t leave me again.”

I grab Hans’ shoulder as he tugs at his ears. “Papa?”

Hans curls his hands into fists and presses them against his ears. “He’s been like a father to me since I arrived. I lost my father. I lost him. I can’t lose Eli, too,” he cries.

“Me too,” I say, pulling him into my arms. “Me too.” I clench my eyes, expecting tears to fall down my cheeks, but nothing comes—just the ache in my chest. We see people fall to their death every day, but we hold on to each other as if we’re the keepers of one another’s last breaths.

Eli has done nothing but gives us fatherly advice, words of wisdom we may need if we somehow survive the odds here. A familiar, comforting face. I didn’t think—I don’t know why I didn’t think—anything could happen to him.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell Hans, choking on my words.

“We needed him. He needed us. He had nothing outside these gates. He already lost his wife. This isn’t fair. It’s not fair!”

I choke back the sobs threatening to burst from my chest as the tears finally slide silently down my cheeks. We all try to avoid the truth of how slight the chances are of walking out of here, and how much less of a chance we have at finding anything we left behind. We are free-falling between heaven and hell and I’m not sure there’s a stop anywhere in between.