in her belly. “How can I possibly be safe when you’re not?”
“You’re more important.”
She wasn’t having any of that. “No.” She held up a hand, palm out and hissed, “Stop sacrificing yourself for me. Just…” A sob escaped. Where had it come from? “Stop.”
“I’m not.”
“You are .” She sucked in another sob and pounded his chest with her fists. “You have to save yourself.” She kept pounding. “You have to.”
“Why?” His question was so soft, so calm she almost didn’t hear it. “Why do I have to?”
“Because if you’re not safe…if you’re not safe. I don’t…I can’t…I won’t go without you.”
“All right.” He clasped her hands, cradling them in his own. “All right. And I won’t go without you. Agreed?”
Having finally voiced the thoughts in her heart, she looked him in the eyes. “Agreed.”
“We’ll stay here until dark then carry on.”
“Not until I’ve checked on the soldier in the barn.”
“Will you give him mercy if he asks for it?”
Just the thought of killing another human being made her sick to her stomach. But if he was suffering and certain to die… “I—I don’t know.”
“If you need my help, just come get me.”
He was offering to do it for her, to put the soldier out of his misery. It was a generous and horrible choice.
She crawled into the barn. The German’s eyes were closed, but she could see the rise and fall of his chest.
Still alive.
She put her hand on his forehead—pale, cold and clammy, he was covered with sweat.
His eyes opened. “I was cold, but now I’m not.”
She looked inside his shirt. The skin on his abdomen looked tight. She carefully touched his belly. It felt full and taunt. She pasted a small smile on her lips. “It’s a good sign that you’re not cold anymore.”
He smiled back, but from one moment to the next his smile turned to stone and his eyes went sightless.
She’d seen death arrive many times before, but it never ceased to surprise and humble her. One moment you’re alive the next you’re dead. No fanfare. No warning. No second chances.
She pulled the edges of his shirt together, got to her feet and went back to the coop.
“How is he?” John asked.
“Dead,” she said as she sat down across from him. Her limbs seemed to weigh far more than they should, while sleep pulled at her eyelids. She drew up her knees, closed her eyes and rested her head on them.
His hand took hers and squeezed. “I’m sorry.”
She lifted her head and discovered she was crying. “For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Didn’t I? Once again, we’re in this situation because of me.”
He had lied to her about leading the Germans away without getting caught.
“Yes, once again, you sacrificed your own safety for mine.” She rolled her eyes. “What a horrible person you are.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Yes, I think I am.” She wiped the tears from her face. “It’s better than crying. But…” She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t lie to me ever again.”
“I promise.”
“You’ll give me your word?”
“You have my word. I won’t lie to you ever again.”
“Good.” She tore her gaze from his and glanced around the coop. “Should we move?”
“No one has found us so far. Why don’t we rest here until nightfall?” He pulled her away from the wall, turning her so her back was against his front, and coaxed her to lie down.
Safe.
* * *
After dusk, they snuck out of the chicken coop and made their way back to their original path. Though he was covered in bruises, John’s injuries from the beating weren’t enough to slow them down. She did wonder if he had a couple of cracked ribs. If they were bothering him, he kept it off his face.
The night was calm, warm and would have been lovely had their errand been less urgent. As it was, every sound, movement and shadow was cause enough to hide, run or freeze. John asked for her opinion more than once about
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