ON THURSDAY, THE DAY BEFORE OUR ESCAPE, AXEL STILL WASN’T BACK. AS CURIOUS AS I WAS ABOUT WHERE HE’D GONE, I WAS SECRETLY RELIEVED. IT WOULD BE SO MUCH easier to escape if he wasn’t here. All day I’d worked with the dogs on simple commands: come, sit, stay, go. They were tired of it. Zasha finally just lay down on her bed and ignored me. Thor was still ready to learn, but often he pawed at the door to our room as if the reward for even the tiniest bit of learning was a long walk.

I waited until about three P.M. to go and check on Josef’s progress. The kitchen staff would be on their break between lunch cleanup and dinner preparations.

Taking Petr’s dish towel with me in case I needed it again as a cover story, I let myself into the utility room. I wasn’t too nervous about being caught in the main room. There were a lot of legitimate reasons I could invent for being in there that wouldn’t arouse suspicions.

But the closet … If I were found in there and Josef had made progress with the hole, it’d be all over. We’d both be dead. To make it worse, there was no light in the closet. If I wanted to see, I had to leave the door open and get light from the main room.

I opened the closet door and got down on my knees. There it was, the outline of a narrow, dark space that started at the floor and went up about six inches. It was only about a foot wide. If Josef started this on Tuesday night and this was all the progress he’d made by Thursday, he’d never get out by tomorrow.

I got my head as low to the floor as I could and whistled softly through the hole. After a few moments I heard what I was almost sure were footsteps. Within seconds I heard his voice.

“Is that you?” he asked, being smart enough not to use my name.

“Yes. The hole looks good, but …”

“I know. It’s not big enough. I’m grateful for the tools you gave me, but they’re just not strong enough. And I have to be very careful about not making too much noise.”

My heart beat faster. “There’s so little time…. What are we going to do?”

“Are there any other tools you can get me? A hammer, a screwdriver, something heavy. Whoever built this building did too good of a job!”

“Let me look around.” I was filled with frustration and fear as my role in helping Josef expanded. And yet if Josef hadn’t been worried about the copy of my letter being found, he wouldn’t be here. Petr had been very clear that my participation in Josef’s escape was the reason he’d given his okay to stealing the dogs. He understood they provided the cover we needed to get out of the building. Closing the closet door, I began a methodical search of the clutter in the utility room. There were some things that would have been helpful, like a shovel, but it would have been too noisy, and impossible to get to him.

Brooms and mops had sturdy wooden handles, but again, there was the noise to consider. He needed something smaller to gnaw away at the wall. There had to be something…. I remembered the screwdriver I’d seen when I hid the tools. Pulling it out, I saw that it had a sturdy red wooden handle, a strong shaft, and a flat blade.

Taking it back into the closet, I slipped it through the hole to Josef. It was weird to be able to see his fingers as he accepted it. “You have to make this work, Josef,” I said, feeling desperate as I looked at the pitiful, rough opening.

“Don’t worry, Ivan,” he said confidently. “I’ll think of my Yeshka with every stab I take at that wall. I will be ready tomorrow night.”

I wished I felt as confident as he did. There were so few hours left. What would we do if he couldn’t get out? I tried to imagine what I’d do if roles were reversed, if Yeshka were at headquarters passing tools to my imprisoned mother. I’d probably say to him what he said to me: “She’s the only family I have! You have to help.”

Focus on what you can do something about, I told myself, and left to work on commands with Zasha and Thor for the rest of the day.

I lived in constant worry about when Axel would return. In just another hour, I planned to leave this place forever.

As nine P.M. approached, I looked again at the few items I’d brought with me, knowing I’d have to leave some of them behind. The letter from Axel was going with me, of course, and Polina’s compass. My concertina and my father’s shaving kit were nonnegotiable. The kit I was able to stuff in a side pocket of my jacket. The concertina I’d have to tuck between my belly and my coat and hope the fit was tight enough to hold it.

Zasha sat in front of me, demanding that I pet her. Every time I stopped she pawed at me for more. I think Thor knew something was going to happen. Instead of being his usual rambunctious self, he lay close to me as if to say If you need help, I’m here. Their leads were out and ready to go.

Soon Josef and I would leave through the side basement door with the dogs. How many times had I reviewed what would happen once we were outside? Three dozen? Or four? It felt like a hundred. I paced nervously in our room. What am I forgetting? I asked myself. I knew the answer, and forgetting wasn’t the right word.

It was Josef. I hadn’t been in to check on him since yesterday, half out of fear of being caught, half out of knowing that digging the hole was something he’d have to accomplish himself.

It was Zasha and Thor who alerted me — jumping into standing positions, ears up, tails trembling. They heard and felt the surge of energy and activity before I did. I poked my head out the door and saw that people were rushing around in the kitchen area. What was going on? I closed the door behind me to keep the dogs safe and ran to see if I could find Fritzi. He and a dozen others were pulling supplies from shelves and refrigerators as fast as they could.

“Fritzi, what’s wrong?” I asked.

He shook his head, opened one of the refrigerators, pulled something out, and promptly dropped it on the floor. It shattered. He yelled as if someone had pinched him, and then began talking to himself in German. It almost sounded like he was crying.

“Fritzi, what’s wrong?” I said, louder this time, as I went over to help him clean up the mess. Four more people ran into the kitchen, two of them speaking to Fritzi at the same time, looking almost as distraught as he did.

“Fritzi!” I practically yelled it so that he would focus on me. “What happened?”

I could see him struggling to find the Russian words. He stood up and looked deeply upset as he said, “Tikhvin! Tikhvin bad! Germans leaving now helping. Hurry,” he said, motioning toward the other men who were grabbing utensils and pots and pans out of drawers and cupboards. He bent down again to clean up the mess at our feet. Shouts and the clamor of men on the floor above us grew louder. The whole army was on the move.

“Fritzi — where are the Germans going?”

He blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head to show me he didn’t know. “Going now.”

When I started to speak to him again, one of the other men yelled at me. I don’t know what he said, but he looked angry and annoyed and swung his arm toward me like I was a fly. The message was clear: Get out! Get away from us!

Just as I was turning to leave the kitchen, Axel came flying down the stairs. “Ivan! Get your things. We’re leaving. Where are the dogs?”

“In their room.”

“I’ll get them.”

I stood there openmouthed, not knowing what to say to deter him. He was halfway across the kitchen before he was intercepted by someone who needed his attention. They spoke rapidly in German.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice if I snuck away in all the chaos. Five steps later, he yelled, “Ivan! Be in my office in ten minutes with the dogs.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, and ran not to my room, but to the utility room. I prayed Josef was ready; we had to leave now. I flipped on the light and threw open the closet door. There was Josef, lying down on his back, his body stuck partway between his closet and the one I was in. He’d made it in just past his shoulders.

“What happened?” I cried. “How long have you been here?”

“About three hours,” he answered with some effort. “Help me.”

I was so shocked by what I saw, it took me a moment to comprehend it. “Okay, okay,” I muttered. “Stay right there.” I think I heard a weak laugh as I tore out into the utility room. I grabbed a rag out of a pile of them and a shovel from the corner.

“This would be so much easier if I could use your arms for leverage,” I mumbled, kneeling down. But I knew if Josef had decided to come through the hole arms first, it would have made his rib cage bigger. Which would have meant he’d have to make the hole bigger as well, and there just wasn’t time. I sighed and said, “I’m going to put this cloth over your face so you won’t be hit by the plaster. Turn your head to the left, all right?”

“Okay.” Whatever noise I’d make didn’t matter anymore; it was already coming from every direction. I hit the sharp blade against the wall about six inches above Josef’s face. Very little happened. I tried again and heard a slight crackling sound. The third and fourth blows brought an actual horizontal crack. Josef said something, but I didn’t want to stop and ask. He could talk to me when he was free. I hit the wall again at the crack. Fine white dust began falling. I slammed the shovel into the wall a dozen times before actual pieces crumbled. Leaning the shovel against the wall, I clawed at the plaster with my hands. Within two minutes there was about four inches of space open above Josef’s chest.

I took the towel off his face. “Ah, thank God,” he said. “I could hardly breathe.”

“I’m sorry, but we need to get out of here. The army’s leaving right now. Can you move?”

“I’ll try to push myself toward you with my heels….” He closed his eyes, he made grunting sounds, but he didn’t budge. “Go, Ivan. Save yourself.”

I ignored his remark. “Josef, try this. Can you roll on your side just a little? That will make you less wide on the sides and wider at the top where you’ve got some room now.”

“I’ve been lying here a long time now. I’m not sure.”

“I’m going to help you.” I couldn’t get my hands into his armpits from underneath, so I stood over him and pushed my hands into the almost nonexistent space between his arms and torso and pulled him away from the wall with all my might. Before I let go, I was almost certain I’d felt some movement.

“One more time. Try to roll slightly on your right side. Push with your heels. Okay? Go!” I pulled and strained; he pushed and struggled to roll himself over.

“Ah!” I cried. We’d moved him an inch or so. “Do it again!” We tried even harder, if that was possible. If we could just get him angled a little more, past his muscled arms, he’d make it.

“I’m going to get out, aren’t I?” he said, almost to himself.

“Yes. Two more pulls and your elbows will be through. I know it. Let’s go. Push!” We gave it our all, and I don’t know who was happier when Josef’s elbows cleared the opening and he was able to slip his hands up. He used them to push against the wall; his waist appeared, then his knees, and then his feet.

He sat on the floor for a minute as if in a daze. “Thank you, Ivan. I know you could have run, I know you could have left me….”

“That’s not what partisans do, is it? That’s not what you did.” I patted his shoulder. “We’re not out of here yet. Can you stand?” It took him about thirty seconds to feel secure on his feet. “There are the janitors’ uniforms.” I nodded to several hanging on hooks. “Put one on, and put those galoshes over your shoes. My room is right there,” I said, pointing in back of me. “I’m going to get ready. Come in as soon as you’re dressed.”

“Okay.” When I was halfway across the room, he said, “Ivan, your knife!” The tools I’d given him and my knife lay on the floor near the corner. “At least I remembered to throw them in here first before I got stuck.” He smiled.

It felt so good to have my knife again. I slipped it into my valenki and left. The echoes of activity from the kitchen and the floor above filled the hallway. Slamming the door behind me, I stood staring at Zasha and Thor although barely seeing them, my mind was racing so fast.

It was more than an hour before we were supposed to leave. Nothing that we so carefully planned was going to happen. Josef and I would have to get out of the building with the dogs on our own, in the middle of the chaos, with every soldier awake and alert and no one on the outside to help us.

And who would be leading the charge, making sure every man and every thing was where it was supposed to be? Major Axel Recht. The same man who expected me to be arriving in his room any minute with his dogs.

“We’re going now,” I said aloud, unbuttoning my shirt and grabbing my concertina. I pushed it up beneath my undershirt and gasped as the cold metal edges of the case hit my skin. I put the flat part against my stomach and slipped my coat on to cover the bulge. I felt in my pockets for my gloves and pulled my hat down on my head until it covered my ears.

The dogs were at my feet making little whining and moaning sounds. “You have to be very good and very quiet,” I said as I knelt down and clipped their leads to their collars. It wasn’t easy with the concertina in the way. I petted each of them and said a few soothing words.

As I looked around one last time to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, Josef entered the room. “Are you ready?” I asked.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything.”

“Stay at my side. Try to look natural.”

Josef nodded.

“Quiet,” I whispered to the dogs as I turned off the overhead light. I opened the door; the hall was empty. We scurried toward the side door. The cold hit us like a slap, and it was snowing. Good, I thought, it might help obscure us. “Quiet,” I cautioned the dogs again, and we walked up the stairs quietly and slowly.

There were men running everywhere, yelling to one another, trucks and other vehicles roaring into action. Dieter, the guard whose duty it was to protect this side of the building, was standing next to the cab of a truck, engaged in an animated conversation with the driver.

We hurried from the building and across the street to Kirov Avenue. No one seemed to notice us. If they had, I would have waved and then ignored them as if I didn’t understand that they wanted us to stop. If they caught up with us, I would have pulled out Axel’s letter and tried to convince them I was walking the dogs one last time before we all left with them for the new location. If they asked about Josef, I’d say he was someone assigned to help me with Axel’s dogs. Hopefully, if that happened, that lie would buy us enough time to escape.

Kirov Avenue was dark, and the snow acted as a thin veil. The farther we got from headquarters, the faster we moved. We were passed by at least four different vehicles, including one tank, but no one stopped or tried to speak with us.

“What’s the plan?” Josef asked softly, his eyes darting around.

“Turn right at the corner. We’re going to go in the alley and hide until Yeshka and Polina arrive.”

I was getting nervous. Even though we were out of sight of the activity on Kirov Avenue, we didn’t know what would happen next because we were an hour early. “See that shed?” I said. “If it’s unlocked, we’ll wait for them in there.”

The dogs trotted along unconcerned, having been here a few times already on our many walks. We got to the shed, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and opened the door. I almost screamed. There were Polina and Yeshka, standing in the dark not three feet from us.

“Papa!” Yeshka said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Get in.”

I stood outside, uncertain whether I should take the dogs in. Polina said, “Wait, let me take the sleds out.” After a quick hug with Josef, she maneuvered the two wooden sleds, now modified, out into the snow.

“Good-bye,” we whispered to our friends. “And good luck.” I closed the door so Josef could make his quick change into warmer clothes.

“Ivan, you put the dogs in the sacks, okay?” Polina said. “They don’t know me.” I nodded and gave her Thor’s lead.

I decided to put Zasha in first because her temperament was a little more mellow than Thor’s. At least I thought so, until I tried to get her into the burlap sack full of airholes that would act as her protection for the next hour.

She fought me hard, twisting, jumping, and in every way refusing to cooperate. “Zasha, please,” I begged. “It’s only for a little while.”

“Ivan, hurry.”

“I’m trying.” It was useless. “Let me try Thor,” I said, after another minute of struggle. If possible, Thor was worse. He’d seen Zasha’s response; if she hated the idea, he was determined to hate it even more.

“Why is there all this activity?” Polina asked as I tried once more to slip the sack over Thor’s head.

“It’s Tikhvin. I couldn’t understand exactly, but I think they’re going there to join the fight. Remember? Petr said he thought they were losing that battle.”

A sound of deep fear escaped from Polina like it was her last breath. “We have to go. Right now.”

“But I can’t yet….” Yeshka and Josef emerged from the shed, touched us each on the shoulder in farewell, sprinted into the alley, and disappeared.

“Now, Ivan,” Polina said in a deadly calm voice. “We have to go now.”

“But I can’t get them in the bags!”

“Leave the bags, leave the sleds. It’ll be too slow. Walk to the street RIGHT NOW.” Her tone was so authoritative, so certain, that I abandoned it all immediately, held fast to the dogs’ leads, and walked quickly with her to the street.

“Turn right. We’ll follow the rest of the plan,” she said, looking straight ahead. “Walk as fast as you can, but don’t run.” We’d made it almost to the corner when someone screamed my name.

“Ivaaaaaan! Halt or I’ll shoot!”

That voice would haunt me forever.

Time seemed to slow down as I looked behind me and saw Axel, a gun in his right hand, running toward us at top speed. He didn’t have a coat or hat on — he must have gone to the basement to find me and the dogs and realized what I’d done.

“Run, Polina!” I cried. We ran as fast as we could over the snow-covered ground, the dogs in the lead. I held tight to my concertina with my left hand so it wouldn’t fall out. We were almost a block ahead of Axel, but he was a grown man, and battle hardened.

Zasha kept turning around, as if she knew something was terribly wrong and I could explain it to her. It slowed us down. Twice I almost tripped over her. Polina noticed. “Give me one of the leads!”

“No!” I cried, afraid I might drop it, afraid I’d be separated from Polina and one of the dogs, afraid it would give Axel a chance to get even closer.

The shot Axel fired broke the silence of the night air like the crack of his whip. “He’ll kill us, Polina. Faster!” I felt blind with fear as my legs pumped harder and harder. The dogs were swift and light on their feet, but they were still puppies. If Axel followed us all the way to Petr’s, they’d tire and stop.

“Stop! You Russian swine … pig … I will kill you!”

Panic was building within me. “Polina, where should we go?” I panted. “We can’t lead him to Petr’s. He’ll find and kill everyone.”

Axel fired again. I swear I felt it rush past me, just inches from my arm.

“Go to Galina’s,” she cried softly. “We’ll hide in the hen coop.”

“No, he’s been there. He’ll find us.”

“Then there’s no choice. We go to Petr’s.”

“We’ll never make it before he catches —”

There was a strangled cry, and as we were about to round a corner I stole another glance back at Axel. He’d fallen. But he lay on his belly in the snow, both hands gripping his pistol. He fired off three more shots, hitting chips off of a brick building not seconds after we’d passed it.

“I’ll find you,” Axel screamed. “I’ll find you. And when I do, I’ll kill you! Do you hear me? I’ll kill you!”

“Don’t listen, Polina. We’ll head for the north-facing tunnel, the one hidden by the five trees.”

“He could follow our trail there in the snow.”

“Do you have a better plan?” We were running so hard and fast, our words were coming out unevenly between our short gulps of breath.

“The north tunnel,” she agreed. We ran for our lives. There were no more shots fired at us. Although I was fairly sure Axel had stopped chasing us after he fell, I dared not turn again and lose even a few seconds of our lead or risk falling myself. The dogs were tiring, but I cajoled, encouraged, and half dragged them down the hill until we reached the entrance to Petr’s north tunnel.

Only then did we stop and peek out from the small grove of trees to see if Axel had followed us after all. In the dark, through the falling snow, I could see nothing out of the ordinary, no movement, no sound. We did our best to quickly cover our footprints around the entrance and make it look natural by brushing the snow with a branch Polina broke off of an evergreen tree. After fumbling for the handle, we pulled open the entrance to the tunnel as quietly as we could and shut ourselves into its pitch-black silence. I struck a match against the rough surface of the candle holder, illuminating Polina and the dogs. They were all breathing heavily and looked a little disoriented and relieved.

“You go first,” I told Polina as I handed her my candle and lit another for myself. “If Axel follows us in here, I have a knife with me. I’ll protect you.”

“It’s all right, Ivan,” she said softly. “I think we’re safe.”

I nodded my head to reassure her, while knowing with certainty that Axel’s declaration that he would find me and kill me was not a threat. It was a promise.