Simple Faith (33 page)

They both stopped in their tracks when they heard footsteps running toward them. A moment later, Anja appeared with Daniel and threw herself into Mikel’s arms, hugging him, touching his face, his hair, his chest as if to reassure herself that he was really there. Peter let the reunion play out for only a moment. “Come on,” he said. “Plenty of time for that later.” He trudged on up the way Anja had come—opposite from the boulder that he’d been so sure was a marker that would lead him to her.

Anja had never been happier to see anyone in her life than she was to see Mikel. Her prayers had been answered. He was safe. He was here in the cave with them, reassuring Daniel that nothing bad had really happened. And it was all thanks to Peter. While Daniel and Mikel were reuniting, she turned to Peter. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she began. “I was so afraid they had—”

“He’ll be okay,” Peter said, cutting her off as he turned to Mikel. “We have to get moving. You’re the one who knows these mountains,” he reminded him.

He sounded annoyed, impatient—not at all like the man she had come to know and care for. “We’re going to be all right,” she told him.

He looked at her as if she had just announced that from here they would be able to fly over the mountain. “We’re a long way from being all right, Anja. You may not have noticed, but Mikel is injured—he’s in a lot of pain. I don’t know what that guy hit him with, but he’s probably got a concussion at the very least. And my guess is that he’s also got a couple of broken ribs. The soldiers took a turn at him when they arrived, and those jackboots can deliver quite a blow.”

Mikel edged his way between them and jerked his head toward Daniel. “The boy’s ready. Let’s go,” he said. She didn’t miss the way he grimaced as he crawled to the top of a rise and looked around. Then he signaled for them to follow him into the unknown blackness of the forest and the trail leading up into the mountains.

Anja was well aware that for the next couple of hours they would follow an unmarked trail uphill through meadows and past streams and racing brooks. It was best to stay near water when they could. That way if the soldiers brought dogs to join in the search, they could step into the icy water and throw the dogs off their scent. As she trudged along, she chastised herself for her trivial concerns about Peter’s seemingly bad temper. They were covered in muck because they had been forced to crawl over the slippery terrain. He was simply tense as they all were. It had nothing to do with her. It had always amazed her how in the midst of the most incredible danger the mind could turn to the most routine facets of one’s life. She recalled how when she was imprisoned at Sobibor, the women had sometimes talked about how best to get a child through teething or about their dreams for after the war as they were sorting through clothing taken from prisoners who would not be returning to claim it. She thought about how she and Peter had danced with the snowman in the gardens in Paris. She thought about how her first thought on seeing him at the convent hospital ward was that she must look a mess.

Such insignificant drivel in the face of real danger and the likelihood that many of them would not survive the war. She was a grown woman—a mother and supposedly a leader in this movement to help Allied airmen escape. Yet here she was acting like a love-struck teenager trying to get the attention of the handsome boy in her class.

They walked on, their breath coming in audible gasps as the air grew thinner and the way ever more vertical. They had been climbing steadily with few stops to rest for some time when Anja took hold of Daniel’s hand and edged past Peter, leaving him to bring up the rear, as she fell into step behind Mikel.

“I can take the lead for a while,” she offered, knowing that setting the pace and deciding the best route on the unmarked trail was stressful and exhausting. “You need to conserve your strength. Once we reach the river …”

Mikel walked doggedly on without a word.

“Mikel, please. I can see that you are suffering and …”

He held up his hand for silence and paused before taking another step. He pointed to his left and then bent down to Daniel’s height and placed his finger on the boy’s lips, signaling the need for absolute quiet. He started to lift Daniel but could not swallow a grunt of pain. Peter stepped forward and picked Daniel up.

Mikel edged along an opening between the overgrown brush and trees. Not far away Anja heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps—at least two, perhaps more, people moving down the way toward them. Mikel motioned for her and Peter to hide, then started walking on, using his staff for support. After a few minutes, Anja heard him speaking in his native language, and not long after that, three men wearing the same blue coveralls and carrying large packs on their backs passed within a few feet of where she, Peter, and Daniel had taken cover. Without pausing, they continued on down the hillside.

“Smugglers,” she whispered to Peter. When he started to stand up, she held him back. “Wait for Mikel to signal. There could be more of them.”

Finally, she heard the call of a night bird and knew that it was Mikel. “Come on.” She led the way through the trees and emerged on a rocky ridge. Below them in the distance she could see the lights of the villages of Irun and San Sebastian. They had reached the southern flank of the hills and were facing Spain—freedom that was close enough to see but remained so very far away. They still had to follow the ridge to reach the place where it would be safest to descend to the river. Another two hours at least. Usually they made this part of the climb in the darkest part of the night, but they had lost hours hiding from the German patrol and rescuing Mikel. It would be daylight before they reached their destination.

“Those men,” Peter began, but Anja stopped him.

“No more talking. From here on just watch Mikel and me for signals.” She reached to take Daniel from him.

“I’ve got him,” he said.

“We’ll take turns. For now he can walk.”

“Shhh,” Daniel admonished Peter as he slipped from his arms and started following Anja across the rocky ridge. But he couldn’t resist adding, “Mama, those mountains are really high. Is there no other way?”

“Just keep your eyes on the ground and watch your step,” she told him. “One step at a time, and before you know it, we will reach the river.”

Another lie
.

The intensity

With which, already overwhelmed
,

We longed in those days to be able

To walk together once again

Free beneath the sun
.

—P
RIMO
L
EVI
,
TRANS
. R
UTH
F
ELDMAN AND
B
RIAN
S
WANN

   CHAPTER 17   

P
eter was amazed at Anja’s stamina. He was far more worried about Mikel, who was obviously struggling. Mikel had looped the longest section of the rope that Pierre had used to restrain him and taken it with him when he and Peter made their escape. Now Peter began to see a purpose for that rope.

“Let’s take a break,” he said when they came to a piedmont area that they would need to cross to continue following the ridge. Daylight was just beginning to streak the eastern sky. He set Daniel down. He’d been carrying the boy for some time, and although the kid was waif thin, it was still a relief to be without the extra weight. The fact that for once neither Mikel nor Anja objected to his suggestion told him that they had been thinking along similar lines but were determined to keep pushing forward in a race against the coming dawn and the need to reach and cross the river. Not that they would be home free once they accomplished that. The Spaniards might not be officially in this war, but their government definitely tended to side with Hitler. And there was money to be made for capturing and turning people like them over to the Germans. Mikel had said that some locals would gladly trade any one of them for an extra loaf of bread.

Peter leaned against a boulder and took a long swallow of the water that was almost gone from the goatskin. “Let me see that rope,” he said.

Mikel gave him a look that as usual questioned whatever he might be thinking.

“Come on. Hand it over.”

Reluctantly, Mikel did as he asked. Peter handed him the goatskin in exchange. Mikel drank and passed it to Anja, who took no more than a sip before offering it to her son.

“Daniel, why don’t you refill that with water from that little brook over there,” he suggested as he uncoiled the rope, mentally measuring the length. It would do for his purposes. He tied one end into a loop and waited for Daniel to return with the filled goatskin, which he proudly presented to his mother. Peter slipped the rope over Daniel’s head and then tightened it around the boy’s waist. “Now you,” he said to Anja as he formed a second loop.

“You will get us all killed,” Mikel scoffed as he watched Peter fasten the rope around Anja’s waist, leaving a length between her and Daniel and another length before he formed the third loop that he offered Mikel. “I am not doing this,” Mikel protested. “Besides, you were to carry the boy through the most difficult parts.”

“And I will do that. That’s why he is on the end, so I can release him and carry him.”

“And where will you be?”

“I’ll take the lead.”

Mikel bristled, and then he laughed. “You? You have no idea where you are going.”

“That’s why you are going to be next to me so you can tell me.” He held up the third loop.

Mikel scowled at him, but at last, with obvious pain that he was having more and more trouble concealing, he stood and slipped it over his head, tightening it with a firm jerk at his waist. “Now what?”

Peter quickly formed the last loop and secured it around his waist. “Now we go.” He looked up to where the clouds hung low over the highest peaks. “Daniel, do you think you can make it to those clouds?”

Daniel hesitated. The clouds must have seemed miles away to the boy. “I can do it,” he replied firmly.

“You don’t have to,” Anja said. “I can carry you, and then—”

“I can do it, Mama.”

“Then let’s go,” Peter said and started up the trail that wound its way around boulders and across valleys, following the ridge. He could feel the drag of the others tugging at his waist as he walked on slowly but steadily. He couldn’t help thinking about his fellow crew members and Ian and Colin. He suspected that at least one of them had stayed behind to face the soldiers and give the rest a chance to make it to the woods. He also suspected that the person who had stayed had been Sam Levine.

After all, he was the one who had found the pistol, and he was also the one who had seemed the most affected and depressed by the experiences he’d suffered in the prison camp. When they were talking while eating the breakfast Pierre had prepared for them, Ian and Colin had spoken openly about how they were certain the invasion was coming soon and after that the war would be over in a matter of months if not weeks. But Sam had smirked at such idealistic chatter.

Peter thought about the shot he’d heard and realized that it had been a single gunshot followed by the sound of shots from a machine gun. Peter remembered how Eddie had joked in training that machine gun fire sounded like a woodpecker. How they had laughed at that image. In those days, they had been told that the men around them, going through training with them, were now their families. And if all the men in the unit were his family, then for sure the men on that plane with him had been his brothers. He would miss his crew—he already did.