When it spotted them, it took flight, taking off with a loud cawing noise, and all eyes suddenly turned in their direction.
‘Wer ist da?’Who is there?yelled the guard, squinting through the smoke in their direction. ‘Zeig dich.’Show yourself.
He raised his rifle and a loud whirring started in Dorotha’s head. It was over. She pushed Gabriele behind her, squeezed her eyes shut and braced her body for the impact of the bullet. But no shot rang out. She opened her eyes.
A truck had pulled up in the square and suddenly all the guards were gathering their rifles and piling into the back. A babble of barked German orders, but one word stood out. ‘Friedhof.’Cemetery.The round-ups had begun.
Nathan was right.
The truck pulled off. Dorotha grabbed Gabriele’s hand and they ran headlong across the square, her heart crashing against her ribcage. Shots were fired, and an explosive sound rang in her ears.
She whipped round, the wind tearing at her skin. A faceless soldier with his gun balancing against the side of the truck was taking pot shots as they drove out of the square.
‘Get down,’ she screamed, pulling Gabriele to the ground and huddling together.
A minute passed in which all she could hear was the thundering of her blood pulsing in her ears, then silence. She looked up. The truck was gone. But they might be back. There wasn’t much time.
‘Are you hurt?’ she gabbled, frantically patting Gabriele down.
Gabriele’s face was a ghostly white against the cold dawn sky, her breath hanging like smoke.
The little girl was staring at Dorotha’s leg.
‘No, but you are.’
Dorotha touched the top of her left leg. When she pulled her hand away, she saw her fingers were soaked in blood. She had been shot. Questions rattled through her mind.
Why does it not hurt? How could she have been so stupid? If they’d just waited one more minute.
Survival instincts kicked hard.
‘We must get inside.’
She grabbed the icy door handle of the administration offices and wrenched it open.
Inside, they passed scenes of absolute chaos. Offices had been turned upside down, empty filing cabinets lay strewn across the floor. Every typewriter and desk had been removed. The room was empty, save for a single jacket hanging on the back of the door, which she grabbed as they passed.
They hastened up the darkened corridors to the old stationery cupboard, and Dorotha rummaged in her bag for the key Oscar had given her. Her fingers were so slippery with blood, she couldn’t get the key in. Then, to her horror, she realised the lock was frozen solid.
‘Please no...’ she whimpered. She slammed her palm against the door in frustration.
‘Let me,’ said Gabriele. She pressed her mouth against the lock and breathed. She blew her hot breath, slowly and deliberately into the keyhole, then, taking the key from Dorotha, she slid it into the lock. This time, it turned.
Once inside the safety of the library, Dorotha wanted to crash to her knees in relief, but they weren’t safe yet. She locked the door behind them and then pointed to the bookcase.
She wriggled under first, and gestured to Gabriele to follow her. The girl’s eyes were round as zlotys as she followed her into the secret room.
‘What is this place?’ Gabriele asked.
Groping around in the dark, under the crate, Dorotha found a box of matches and managed to light a candle, her hands beginning to shake violently.
‘Th-This is our new home,’ she said through chattering teeth.
‘For how long?’ Gabriele gasped.
‘Until we are rescued. Or the Germans leave. Whichever happens first.’
‘You’re bleeding,’ Gabriele whimpered, and, finally, the pain began.
