Page 97 of Winter’s End

The woman paused. “You might be interested to know that such a man with a recent gunshot wound was released from hospital early this morning under heavy guard. It seems he will continue recovering at his home in Diemen…”

Abruptly, the woman stood, tucked her water bottle in her bag, and crossed the road to a bus stop.

Mila looked away, looked down at her gloved hands. Resistance,godjedank, was everywhere.

She knew of Diemen. It was not more than five or six kilometers from where she sat. Once, it had been a busy haven for Jews loyal to the Dutch Royal House – but Hitler’s Reich had long since sent the lot of them to their deaths….

If Reimar de Boer owned a home in Diemen, he had no doubt purchased it for a rock bottom price after the Jews had been evacuated…

And if the day nurse was to be believed, the traitor was once again in residence.

EVI

The back door of the barn creaked open a sliver. Backlit as he was from a dim light inside, Evi could see only a stocky figure wearing a wide-brimmed German field cap. The man briefly scanned the wooded area, scowled, and withdrew, pulling the door closed behind him.

So, there was someone inside. The question was, who besides this guard – and how many?

She scooped up another handful of gravel, tossed it haphazardly at the door of the barn and retreated into the shadows.

In the next instant, the barn door crashed open, and this time, the guard emerged with pistol drawn.

Adrenaline pumping, Evi raised the Colt, took careful aim, and opened fire. She saw the German go down in a heap, but in the next millisecond, another figure emerged with a rifle, and a searing pain ripped through her left shoulder.

She tumbled to the ground, gritting her teeth against the pain, every instinct telling her to grasp her shoulder and roll with the pain. But whoever had shot her was running now in her direction.

She heard Zoe cry out. The figure turned toward the sound, and in the split second that he looked away, Evi willed herself to roll onto her good shoulder, raise the Colt, and fire.

Then she lowered the pistol, gave in to the pain, and surrendered to a merciful blackness.

ZOE

Zoe watched as three men ran from the open doorway of the barn, pausing only to glance at the two downed German guards before sprinting towards the woods behind the barn. They wore civilian clothing, no coats, no hats, and nothing to distinguish them – but Zoe would have known her father’s halting gait – the result of a decades-old old soccer injury – anywhere.

“Papa!” she called, rooted to the ground, caught between a wish to rush to her father and the pressing need to get to Evi, who lay motionless on the ground.

She did not waver long. Clearly, there were no other guards inside the barn, or her father and the others would not have been able to rush out as they had. But Evi needed her.

In the next instant, she crossed the few meters, knelt at Evi’s side, peeled back her coat collar, and shakily reached for a pulse.

“Zoe?”

Evi was alive!Godjidank!

She glanced up long enough to see her father’s face. “Papa!” she said. “The barn is empty?”

He turned at the sound of her voice and nodded. “Zoe?”

“Grasp this girl carefully under one arm and help me move her inside…”

To her relief, Evi moaned as they carried her in and laid her gently on a pile of dirty straw. Under the light of an oil lamp hung from a hookon the wall. Zoe bent to her friend. In the flickering light, she saw the bullet hole in the shoulder of Evi’s coat and a widening patch of blood.

She looked up only briefly. “Run, Papa,” she said. “Godjizdank, you are safe. Go home only long enough to grab Mam and get yourselves to Tante Inge’s house in Haaksbergen.”

Zoe gently patted Evi’s cheek. “Evi, can you hear me? It is Zoe…”

She looked up briefly. “Do you understand, Papa? Do not stay at home. Go with Mam to Tante Inge’s. You will be safer from the Germans there than in Enschede.”

Evi’s eyes flickered open, but she groaned, clearly in pain.