Blood of Vipers by Michael Wallace Page A

didn’t dare doze off and lose track of his people, and
     instead
     counted them one by one, picked out the men, Greta and Helgard,
     Karl, and all
     the others, to make sure the Russians didn’t drag them away when
     he lost
     attention.
    About two hours after leaving the village,
     Osimov caught up
     with the marching refugees from behind the wheel of a black
     Mercedes—a
     confiscated German officer’s staff car. He weaved back and forth
     to avoid the
     debris that left the road only slightly more passable than a
     minefield. When he
     pulled up next to Cal at the front of the column, he slowed the
     car to a
     walking pace.
    “Get in. You’ve walked far enough.”
    “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather
     walk.”
    Osimov glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t
     worry about them.
     They’ll be fine.”
    For a moment Cal was tempted, but he was so
     close, he didn’t
     want to lose now, simply because he was too tired and couldn’t
     be bothered to
     see it through to the end.
    “I’m a trained soldier,” he said. “I can keep
     up. Besides,
     if I show up in your car while letting a bunch of women and
     children walk, I’ll
     get it good from the Americans.”
    Osimov shrugged, but Cal thought he saw a
     hint of respect in
     the other man’s expression. “Suit yourself.”
    The car nudged forward, lights weaving as it
     continued down
     the road.
    “Cal?”
    He turned to see Greta by his side, looking
     up at him.
     Studying her in the moonlight, he was struck again by her
     beautiful,
     heart-shaped face, and the intense, vulnerable expression in her
     eyes.
    “It’ll be okay,” he said. “We’re almost
     there. They’ll give
     you a hot meal, find you all beds.”
    “You will ask about my father, yes?”
    “Of course. I’ll do what I can, you know
     that.”
    “I will never forget this. How you saved me,
     how you saved
     all of us.”
    “It was that nod of yours that did it. I was
     about to give
     up, but I saw the look on your face and I knew that if I let
     those people die
     I’d never forget it. And if you were strong enough to take that
     chance, I
     figured I could be, too.”
    “Thank you.” She cleared her throat and
     looked down at her
     hands. “Cal, what will you do when we reach American lines?”
    “They’ll debrief me, then send me back to my
     unit.”
    “Is that necessary? They say Hitler is dead.
     Is not the war
     over?”
    “Not yet, it’s not. And it doesn’t matter. I
     have to report
     for duty as soon as possible.”
    “Then I will never see you again?”
    “I don’t know, Greta.”
    They walked in silence for a few minutes, and
     then, when
     their guards had moved ahead some distance, she slipped her hand
     into his. It
     was cold and small and tentative. He didn’t let go—didn’t want to let
     go—but he needed to say something right away before it went any
     further.
    “Greta,” he began.
    “It is all right. It is only a little while
     yet. Unless it
     is true what the Russians told me, that you have a girl back
     home.”
    “There’s no girl. I only told him that so
     they’d lay off
     harassing you. But you’re so young. What is it, seventeen,
     maybe?”
    “Sixteen.” She gripped his hand tighter. “But
     I am seventeen
     on the thirty-first of May. How old are you?”
    “I turned twenty in March.”
    “There, almost seventeen and barely not
     nineteen. Not so
     different, is it?”
    “No, I guess not. Maybe in a year or two it
     wouldn’t matter
     at all. I guess it doesn’t matter much now, does it?” He shook
     his head. “It’s
     not that.”
    “Then you must hate me because I am German
     and Germans have
     done awful things.”
    “No, of course not.”
    “Please, then. It will not hurt to hold my
     hand for a few
     minutes, will it? Even if you never wish to think of me when
     this night is
     over.”
    “No, it doesn’t hurt at all.” He came to a
     sudden decision.
     “Greta, can you memorize something