After the Soviet planes departed, chaos struck the train passengers. The living wept for the dead. Dirty, sooty children wandered alone. Shell-shocked women sat with blank faces.
What had the world come to? Perhaps the second coming was near.
Éva scanned the countryside bathed in moonbeams and flickering firelight. Flames licked the dark sky, casting an eerie glow over the scene of devastation. The hulking engine shell smoked on the tracks, and the rest of the cars were a tangled, mangled mess. She skimmed the wide-eyed faces for signs of anyone she knew. Familiar red hair or a lanky figure.
Nothing. No one she recognized. Where were they? She choked out the thought. They had to be okay. They couldn’t be injured. Or …
Nem, nem, nem. She would find them. She had to. Apu said she had to put her hope in God. How hard that was, though, in such circumstances. For all she knew, she was the only one of their group who had survived. She’d lived through two bombings in a matter of days. How many more times could she cheat death? And the others? Only God knew what had happened to them.
Wait a minute. There. A tall, dark-haired man. That had to be Patrik.
But as she headed in his direction, he tumbled to the ground.
Éva’s heart jolted within her. She might not trust Patrik, but she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. She picked her way toward him as fast as possible. People were stepping over his body as if climbing over a downed tree in the forest. Humanity had become calloused. Thick-skinned from the hardships of life.
Close, closer, and now there was no mistaking that head of dark hair. It was indeed Patrik. Gasping, she dropped to her knees in the soft, damp grass beside him and checked his wrist for a pulse. Its steady beat throbbed beneath her fingers. Praise God. A quick examination revealed he’d wrapped his shirt around his leg. Blood had soaked the clothing.
“Wake up. Come on, open your eyes. Can you hear me?”
Zofia came and knelt beside Éva. “I met him and he told me about his leg. Said it was nothing. I was headed to the forest but turned and saw him stumble.”
“Am I ever glad to see you.” Éva kept her words low. “Where is my brother?”
“Right here.” Ernő’s voice sounded behind her.
“Thank God we’re all alive.”
“That’s nothing short of a miracle.” Zofia leaned back on her haunches. “So many weren’t as fortunate. The Soviets did their job.”
Éva gave Patrik’s cheek a few more gentle slaps. Still no response. “We have to get out of here. Reka was on this train.”
“She what?”
“Shh, Ernő. Not so loud. She was sitting right in front of me. I ducked out when I spied her, but if she spots us, she’ll give away our identities. And probably cause a ruckus. Patrik told me if anything happened, I had to go to the woods and meet him there.”
Zofia nodded. “Staying in the open until another train arrives will only increase the likelihood of us running into Reka. If she’s even alive.”
Ernő moved to Patrik’s other side. “We have to assume she is. If he doesn’t wake up soon, we may have to carry him.”
Éva slapped Patrik a little harder. This time, he moaned. His eyelids fluttered open. “Éva, a múzsám.”
He reached up, but she backed away before he touched her cheek. “We have to hurry to the woods so we aren’t so exposed. Do you think you can walk?”
He nodded. “So dizzy.”
Ernő lifted him to a sitting position. “Probably from blood loss. Take a few seconds for the world to stop whirling, then we’ll get you to your feet.”
The fire’s ghostly glow reflected off Patrik’s pale face. He’d never be able to cross the meadow under his own power.
Patrik blinked several times and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to move. I’m going to need a hand.”
Her brother assisted Patrik in standing. He grasped Ernő by the shoulder and steadied himself. “We’ll have to keep low to avoid being seen. We can’t draw attention to ourselves, or people will wonder where we’re going, why we aren’t on our way to the town like most everyone else.”
Ernő grabbed Patrik under one arm, and Éva positioned herself under his other. Together they supported Patrik’s weight. Keeping their heads bowed, they stumbled across the grassy field, Zofia close behind.
A few others straggled toward the woods. Most moved in the direction of the nearby village.
After a short distance, Éva’s arms burned under Patrik’s weight.
“Sorry I’m so heavy.” He pinched his lips together.
“I’m just grateful you’re not dead.”
“Ah, you don’t despise me.” His eyes twinkled in the dim light.
“Incorrigible.”
Only with God’s strength did they make it into the tree line. Sweat poured down Éva’s face by the time the branches and leaves hid them. Several meters in, they halted. Patrik slumped against an oak. Little of the moon’s brightness seeped through the canopy. The air hung thick and heavy, and the acrid odor of smoke permeated even the forest.
Ernő rubbed his eyes. “I suggest we sleep for a while, and come daylight, figure out where we go from here.” He and Zofia sat down and huddled together against a tree.
“Good idea.” Éva settled against another tree. The bark was rough and the trunk hard on the back of her head. Shutting her eyes, she prayed she’d wake up and find out the last forty-eight hours were a nightmare. She would be back in her pretty pink bedroom with Apu and Anya in the other room. She would get up and go to the music studio and teach her students. Nothing would have changed.
But everything had changed. And nothing would ever be the same.
The adrenaline drained from her body, and she fell into a fitful doze.
Crack.
Éva woke with a start. What was that sound? She sat still, taking shallow breaths. Nothing.
Snap.
Nem, something was there.
Or someone.
“Zofia, Ernő, wake up.”
Éva’s quiet, insistent voice and her shaking Ernő’s shoulder roused him from his slumber against a nearby tree. “What?”
Crack. A twig snapped not far away. Zofia’s eyes flicked open.
“Shh.” He rose from Zofia’s side.
Nearby, Patrik stirred. Ernő motioned everyone to stay put. Then he melted into the underbrush.
Éva’s pulse pounded in her neck.
Silence descended again. No more breaking branches. Even the crickets quieted their night music.
After a long, long while, just as pink brushed the eastern sky, Ernő returned. Éva, who hadn’t been able to fall back to sleep, sat up straight. “What did you find?”
“Is that good or bad?”
“The noise might just have been an animal. Or it could have been other people. There isn’t a way for me to tell.”
“Must move.” Patrik croaked the words.
Éva was at his side in a flash. “What’s wrong?” She touched his burning cheeks. “He’s running a fever. A high one.” If he died out here, they would be in a bad way without anyone to get them to the border. Zofia may have been part of the organization, but as far as Éva knew, she hadn’t been to Nagyvárad and didn’t have the contacts there that Patrik did. God, protect him.
“Must move.”
Zofia shushed him. “You aren’t going anywhere until you’ve healed. We’re going to have to stay until you’re stronger. Right now, you should have something to drink.”
Ernő nodded. “When I was searching for the source of the noise, I came across a small stream.”
Éva bit her lower lip. “We don’t have anything to bring water back.”
“I can go.” Patrik’s words were labored.
“Where? To the river?” Éva glared at him. “Absolutely not.”
“Must go.”
“You are in no condition to move. We can’t risk losing you.” Éva cleared the sudden wave of emotion from her throat. “You’re the one who knows where we’re going and has the contacts we need.”
Zofia nodded. “I’m in agreement. Until you’re stronger, we stay put.”
“Too dangerous.”
Éva huffed. How stubborn could one man be? “If we tried to travel with you as sick as you are, we would draw too much attention to ourselves. Nem, the best course of action is to try to find some water, food, and medicine. Patrik, do you have any idea where we are?”
He pulled his eyebrows together for a moment. “There’s a town not too far. Remember passing it. East. Not far from the train.”
“I’ll find it.” Zofia rose to leave.
Ernő caught her by the elbow. “I won’t allow it. You’re pregnant, not to mention that with your red hair, you stand out in a crowd.”
She pulled a silky scarf from her skirt pocket and covered her head. “Better? There are risks involved with exposing ourselves. But right now, the risks are greater if we don’t do anything to help Patrik. Besides, I have been trained for cases such as this. I have my false papers. The only one we really have to worry about is Reka.”
“Szerelmem, please don’t do this.”
She kissed her husband’s scruffy cheek. “I learned my lesson in Budapest. I won’t be rash this time, I promise.” She placed his hand over the spot where their child grew. “This time, I have too much to lose.”
“That settles it.” Éva stood and brushed away the dead leaves that clung to her lightweight skirt. “I’ll go. It’s too risky for Zofia, and Ernő should stay with her.”
“But—”
She cut off Zofia’s protests with a wave. “You know it makes the most sense. Ernő needs to be here, especially if you’re forced to move Patrik at the last minute. I’ll take your scarf so I can hide my hair and face. I’ll blend in more.”
“Thank you.” Ernő kissed her hands.
She kissed his cheek.
“Éva.”
At Patrik’s weak call, she knelt beside him.
“Watch out. Don’t take chances. Get out if you have to.”
“Of course. There’s not too much that can go wrong.” She said the words to herself more than to him.
“Köszönöm.”
Staring into his brown eyes, a tug-of-war raged inside. A pull toward him. A pull away from him. A dissonance between two instruments. Which side would win? She didn’t have time to analyze it.
Before any of them could protest further, she set off through the thicket toward the tracks.
Brambles snagged at her skirt and scratched her legs. Had she known she would be tramping through a forest, she would have worn trousers. But she hadn’t had time to think about what she packed when they had fled Budapest. And saving Patrik’s life was worth a few scratches.
The sun rose higher. Heat penetrated the leafy ceiling, and not a breeze stirred the air. Plenty of rocks and exposed roots made the going difficult, and in her haste, she tripped several times. Just about the time when she couldn’t take another step, out she popped onto a road. Shielding her eyes from the bright daylight, she spied an old farmer atop a donkey cart overflowing with maize plodding in her direction.
Maybe there was room for her amid the corn. She stepped into the road and waved him down.
The old man reined to a halt. “Can I help you?”
“I’m headed to the village. Are you going that way?”
“Do you need a ride? Looks like you’ve about had it.”
She nodded. “A ride would be wonderful.” She hopped onto the back of the cart and nestled into the maize.
“You can sit up front if you’d like.”
“Nem, köszönöm.” A few stray strands of straw stuck to her clammy skin. No one would want to be near her if they could smell her now.
A short time later, they pulled into a small hamlet of red-roofed medieval buildings surrounding a central square. When the man stopped to allow a handful of pedestrians to cross the street, Éva slid from the wagon. She wished she could give him something for his help, but she had to save her money for more important needs.
Like the bribes at the border.
She hunted down the odors of yeast and flour that tickled her nose to the bakery. A few ration coupons would get each of them a bit of bread in their stomachs. From there, she could decide how to find a doctor. A trustworthy physician.
“Éva? Bognár Éva? Is that you?”
Dear God in heaven, nem. Reka had spotted her.