Anton was close enough now to hear and see what was happening. He nearly cried out when the sergeant roughly pushed his bubbe to the ground. He listened to the exchange carefully, but only really understood Bubbe, and her words frightened him. She was daring the major to execute her!

He watched in horror as the major answered her by pointing his pistol at David. Rina cried out, a horrible, aching sob, and begged for her son’s life. Anton had to do something. If only he had a gun. Think, Anton. You must get the soldiers away from Rina and Bubbe. But how?

He shrugged his blanket bag off his shoulder. Inside he found the small hatchet Uncle Dmitri had given him to make tinder for the fires in the cave. That was the only weapon he had. One small hatchet against five armed men. It wouldn’t do. He slammed his hand to the ground. Ugh! He’d hit something. That was just what he needed. To let another stone cause him pain.

But actually, that gave him an idea. He felt around on the ground until he had a handful of good-size stones.

He stood up and gauged the distance. He needed to get closer. Slowly, he moved toward the group until he was only thirty meters away. One of the soldiers—the sergeant, Anton thought—stood with his back to him. Taking careful aim, Anton chucked a rock with all his might. It flew through the air and struck the soldier between the shoulder blades, driving him to his knees.

“Was ist das?” the soldier shouted. The others raised their weapons and glanced about. But Anton was already on the move. As quietly as he could, he ran in an arc around the men, who were now yelling at one another in confusion. Taking careful aim, he hurled a second stone. This one struck one of the men in the thigh. He moved around the group again and threw a third. This time he missed. The stone skipped through the middle of the group.

The major ordered his men to shoot. Machine-gun fire spat in every direction. Anton dropped to the ground. The bullets whizzed over his head. When the firing stopped, he slowly stood and crept farther around the group. He chucked another rock. Ping! It hit one of the soldiers on the helmet, and the man staggered forward.

“Finden sie! Finden sie! Achtung!” the major shouted. Find them! The four soldiers took off running into the night while the major stayed behind to guard their prisoners.

Clutching the hatchet in his hand, Anton waited until the soldiers had disappeared. He circled slowly, quietly. When the major’s back was to him, Anton crept forward out of the darkness. The cruel man who’d taken his bubbe turned, and his eyes went wide with surprise just as Anton brought the blunt side of the hatchet down on his head.

“Too bad gestapo officers don’t wear helmets,” Anton whispered as the blow hammered the major to his knees. A hand raised the Luger, but Anton swung again. This swipe did the trick. The major slumped forward, landing face-first on the ground.

“Bubbe, Rina,” Anton said. “Come. We must hurry.”