Maybe it was both.
Men and women, children and the elderly, had been swarming the streets since we’d left the park. But by the time we’d reached the west end of the city, the streets were all but abandoned. I worried that we were already too late, that my family had taken shelter somewhere and I’d be unable to find them in the night.
I didn’t allow myself to consider the other possibility . . . that the war had come too close to our home.
I almost cried with relief when we turned the final corner and all the houses on my street were still standing, unscathed by the bombs that were pummeling other neighborhoods in the city.
There was the flicker of candlelight coming from inside my house.
“Stay here!” I yelled to Max and Sydney.
Sydney’s face was creased with pain, and I knew it had been too much for her to run so far, so fast. Bght A fast. Blood dried along her left cheek, crusting in her hair. She seemed grateful for the moment’s rest.
I rushed to the front door just as it was opening from the inside. My father nearly ran into me, carrying Angelina in his arms.
“Oh, thank heaven! Magda! Magda!” he called to my mother as he pulled me against him. “She’s here! She’s safe!”
He squeezed me tight, Angelina smashed between us. My mother pushed past my father, grabbing me, touching me, ensuring herself that I was all in one piece.
Then my father handed his squirming bundle over to me; Angelina tangled her fingers into my hair, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“No!” I shouted, understanding his intentions. “You have to come with us! You can’t make us go alone!” My voice was hoarse from yelling, but I needed him to listen to me.
The crushing sound of a bomb rattled the air nearby and I jolted, ducking my head without thinking. The explosions seemed to be growing louder. And closer.
He shook his head, and I could see his answer written on his face. He’d already made up his mind. “We’re staying. You girls are better off without us.” This time he spoke in Englaise . . . so unusual for my father, so out of character. I wasn’t sure which surprised me more, that he was casting his daughters out into the war-torn streets of the city, or that he’d not spoken in Parshon.
My mother handed me a pack and I took it, slinging it over my shoulder. “There’s food inside. And some water!” She was yelling her words at the same time my father was pushing me down the front step. “When this is over, we’ll come for you. Until then, protect your sister, Charlaina.” She stepped onto the street, gripping my shoulders and staring me hard in the eye, serious in a way that I’d never seen her before. Her words were tough—harsh. “And don’t come back to the house until you know, without a doubt, that it’s completely safe.” She shook me once. “I mean it, Charlie. Stay away from here and avoid the troo
ps—on both sides. And whatever you do, never, ever reveal to anyone what you can do.” When her hands tightened, they conveyed something else—something softer—as her face contorted, her eyes welling with tears.
She kissed each one of us on our foreheads, taking just a moment to breathe us in, to memorize our smells.
Then my father shoved me, forcing me to take the first step away from them. I turned, clutching Angelina to my chest as I ran back to the corner where Max and Sydney awaited us. Bitter tears stung my eyes as I obeyed.
It felt wrong. All of it.
I worried for my parents and for my sister. But worse than that, I worried for myself, and I felt selfish for it.
X
Max took the pack filled with food and offered to take Angelina as well, but she clung to me. It was just as well; I needed her as much as she needed me.
“We can go to the mines!” I called above the constant wail. “We can hide there until C thćthe fighting ends.” I led the way, wondering which was the right way to go. Above the tops of buildings in the distance, I could see intermittent flashes that could only mean the ruin of homes, businesses, and schools. Flames beat at the sky, smoke darkening the night.
And, still, the sirens screamed.
Almost no one ventured out now; the streets were desolate. The power grids had fallen, and as we ran, the lights flickered and then vanished all around us. I didn’t know how the sirens continued, but I guessed that they were tied to another system—some sort of emergency backup power—that kept them operating even when the rest of the power failed.
The blackness felt like it was reaching down into my lungs, suffocating me.
Angelina must have felt it too, because she dropped her face to my neck and refused to look up.
I envied her. I wished that I could hide my eyes, bury my face, and choose not to see the world crumbling around me.
Thankfully, Max had a battery-operated pocket light. It wasn’t much, but when he turned it on, we could at least see the ground at our feet so we wouldn’t stumble as we ran.
My legs were already burning, and my arms quivered from the weight of my sister, but hugging Angelina to me made me feel safer. And as much as I hated to admit it, having Max at my side made me feel better as well.
Sydney didn’t slow us down, and that, at the moment, felt like a minor miracle in itself.
But that was when everything changed, and my plan of making it to the safety of the mines disintegrated, like so many pieces of a written promise set to flame.
Ahead of us, the white flash of an explosion, followed by an earsplitting crash, rippled through the air. I could practically taste the concussive shock wave as it rattled the night.
Angelina jolted in my arms as I stopped running and curled myself around her, doing my best to protect her. Her fingernails dug into me. Max grabbed my arm and dragged me closer to the cover of a building at the other side of the street, away from the blast.
My ears were ringing, and I could no longer distinguish the sound of the sirens from the humming that came from inside my own head. The two became one, and I knew it wasn’t just me as my sister reached her hands up and stuffed her tiny index fingers into her ears. She was shaking all over, and I squeezed her tighter, trying, without words, to comfort her.
A second explosion detonated somewhere close to the first one.
But Max was already pulling us in the opposite direction. Away from the mines, and away from the latest assaults on the city.
I wondered briefly how long it would be before the blast of bombs would not be our only concern. How long until enemy ground troops marched into the streets, wreaking their own brand of havoc and killing with reckless abandon.
How much longer until none of us was safe?
For some reason the words of the Pledge drifted through my head at that moment, and I tried to find the line that spoke of protecting the people, of keeping one another from harm. But of course, there was no such line. The Pledge wa B th Qedge wa s meant only to safeguard the queen.
Max’s grip on my arm tightened, and I realized he was speaking to me. I tried to focus, concentrating on his lips and the muffled voice that made its way through the buzzing in my head. His eyes were focused and intense, his black eyebrows drawn together as he leaned closer to me, his breath warm.
“Where is the nearest shelter?” he was yelling.
I looked over and saw that the fingers of his other hand were laced together with those of Sydney, who cowered beside him.
I told myself that it didn’t matter. Not now. I just needed to get Angelina to safety. Max, and his hands, were not my concern.
I tried to think, to remember all the places we’d been told to go during the countless drills. Churches and schools. But all of them were above ground, and they all seemed too exposed, too at risk during the bombings.
Another explosion ricocheted through the air, and this time I felt the ground rumble as I dropped to my knees, covering Angelina’s head with my arms. I heard her whimper—or maybe I only felt it—and I made sounds to soothe her, although I doubted she could hear them.
Then I remembered a place we could go, safe
r maybe than the others. Hopefully.
“The tunnels!” I cried out, lifting my head and meeting Max’s intense gaze. We were just inches apart. “Beneath the city, where the subways used to run! They’re being used as shelters!”
I didn’t wait for his approval, I just stood and ran. I kept my head as low as I could, wrapping one arm over Angelina as if I could somehow shield her.
The passageway wasn’t far ahead, and I prayed that we weren’t too late, that they hadn’t been sealed up already. Please let us gain entrance!
When we reached the stairs that led beneath the street, Angelina and I went first, with Sydney right behind us. Max waited at the top, making certain that we’d all made it safely below. I didn’t wait for him to catch up.
Ahead of me, I could see the set of double doors already sealed shut, a pair of uniformed men in blue standing guard before them.
For the first time, I thought of Max’s uniform and wondered why he was still with us, if there wasn’t someplace else he should be while the city was under attack. I wondered if he had abandoned his duty to be with us.
I rushed forward, practically falling over my own feet in my panic to get to the shelter beyond the doors. The burning muscles of my arms were screaming at me to set my sister down, to force her to walk on her own two feet, but again, I couldn’t make myself do it. I needed to feel her against me. She was all that kept me going.
Before we could reach the doors, one of the men stepped forward, holding out his hand in warning, motioning us to stay back. “There’s no more room. You’ll have to find shelter elsewhere.”
My heart twisted and despair strangled me, making it difficult to speak. “We—we can’t go back out there. It’s too dangerous on the streets.” I took a step closer, hoping they could hear me.
The second guard, a man with copper-red hair and sallow skin, fingered the trigger of his weapon, a rifle that he held across his thin chest. It was a grave warning. “That’s not our problem. The tunnels are full.”
My mother’s words haunted me, her pleas that I take care of Angelina at all costs.
I ignored my instincts and took another step in their direction. “At least let her inside,” I begged, pulling Angelina away from me. She fought me, struggling to hold on, but I was stronger than she was, and I pried her fingers free. “She’s small, and she won’t take up any space at all. Please.”
Angelina’s breath caught as I shook her off. My heart was breaking, but I couldn’t let her see that. I had to be strong.
The red-haired guard, the one with the gun, moved so suddenly that all I could do was watch in stunned silence. He shifted his rifle to his shoulder, readying and aiming it with lightning speed. I didn’t have time to stoop out of the way. All I could do was reach for Angelina and drag her back to me.
Sydney gasped, reminding me that she was still with us.
I stared at the weapon, blinking, my chest squeezing as I lifted my hand. “I—I’m s-sorry.” My voice shook as violently as my hand. “We d-don’t want trouble.”
I heard Max’s footsteps rushing up behind me, but I didn’t turn around, even when I felt his hand grip my shoulder. I kept all my attention on the rifle instead, as I took first one, and then another, cautious step backward, easing Angelina behind me.
But it was the actions of the first guard that confused me most of all, as a look of alarm flashed briefly across his face, and then he moved even faster than the red-haired man had. His arm shot out sideways, his fingers curling over the shaft of the gun as he twisted hard, disarming the red-haired sentry in one swift motion. The guard, who had just moments earlier held a weapon aimed at my heart, looked stunned by the sudden turn of events.
He opened his mouth to say something, to protest, but the first guard cut him off with a scathing glare, making it more than clear which of the pair was in charge.
And then the first guard reached for the door. He opened it and stepped aside, indicating that we could pass. All of us.
I snapped my head around to glance at Max, to see if he understood what had just happened, but he was already shoving Sydney through the doorway, and I could no longer see his face.
I picked up Angelina and followed the two of them, casting a wary glimpse at the guards as we passed.
Behind us, the doors closed again.
The first thing I was aware of was the darkness. It wasn’t complete, this darkness, but it was broken only in places by the flicker of lanterns and the pale glow of handheld lights. Definitely not enough to see where I was walking.
Once again, I was thankful for Max’s pocket light so we could pick our way through the overcrowded platforms in search of a place to rest.
That was the second thing I noticed: the people. Everywhere. Crammed together.
It was quieter down here, below the streets. Away from the sirens. But there was a hushed desperation that filled every ounce of space, every recess, making even the air feel thicker and harder to breathe. I could smell the worry.
We stepped carefully, avoiding legs and feet in our path, the small light’s beam scanning for an opening where we could stop and rest. When I could bear it no longer, I set Angelina down, squeezing her fingers tightly in an unspoken assurance that I wouldn’t release her. I pushed her in front of me, keeping her back pressed against me, my free hand on her shoulder to guide her.
When it became clear that we wouldn’t find a spot on the platforms, Max turned his light downward, onto the oily, dirt-caked tracks below. Faces stared back at us from the shaft of light, and Max moved it quickly over them, scanning, searching.
“There,” he finally said, pointing the light toward an opening. Although it was less an opening than it was a slight gap in the mass of people huddled atop the gravel on the far side of the unused tracks.
I agreed, it seemed the best we’d be able to do. And even though it would be a tight fit, at least we could all stay together.
Max dropped down from the platform, his feet crunching in the loose rocks below as he found a narrow space to stand between the bodies. He reached for Sydney’s hand, and I hated the twinge of jealousy I felt at seeing them touch again.
But I didn’t have time to dwell on it, because next he was reaching for Angelina. She went to him, this time without hesitation, and I was surprised by her willingness to trust him so easily, so soon. She was normally reserved, careful with whom she let down her guard. Yet her instincts were infallible.
Even in the shadows, I saw the sliver of a smile on her lips as Max set her gently to the ground. And then she reached for Sydney’s hand while she waited for me.
If not for the fear of stepping on someone below me in the darkness, I wouldn’t have waited for Max to help me down—I would have jumped myself. But I couldn’t see where I would land, so I was forced to place my hand in his.
He pulled me toward him and I landed in his arms, my body sliding down the length of his. Suddenly I was aware of everything about him, his strength, the heat of his body against mine, his hands at my hips as he gradually drew me down—far slower, I thought, than necessary for the task. Fire burst from the core of me and shot through my veins as I told myself that none of this mattered. None of it was real.
My hands were at his shoulders, and my thumbs brushed against his neck, and even that simple contact, that stroke of bare skin against bare skin, made me blush all over. A wanting shiver clutched me in its grasp.
When my toes touched the gravel beneath me, a sigh escaped my lips that I fervently prayed he hadn’t heard, although I wasn’t sure how he could have missed it. He was only a breath away from me.
For several beats too long, he continued to hold me pressed against him, his palms flat against my back, and I didn’t move away. I vaguely wondered what we looked like to anyone watching us—to Sydney and Angelina. But still, I stayed rooted where I was, feeling his heartbeat thundering beneath my cheek.
Someone near my feet coughed, and then I heard whispers, sounds that had been there all along
, but that I had only just noticed.
I shuffled backward, just one tiny step, but that space between us felt infinite. His hands dropped from my back and mine fell from his chest, and we parted as I went to join Angelina, taking her hand from the other girl.
I was too ashamed of myself to make eye contact with either of them.
Max took the lead again, directing us to the small opening on the ground. It was smaller than it had looked from the platform, but several people moved aside to make a little more room for us. Thanks to their shifting, there was just enough space for one person to lean against the rough brick wall. The rest of us would have to sit up straight in the gravel or lean against one another.
One look at Sydney, and there was no question that she was the one who needed to rest. Dark rivers of drying blood crept down the side of her cheek, and her skin looked gray even in the gloom. She fell into the spot, letting her head collapse back against the bricks. I eased myself onto the crushed rocks with my legs crossed, creating a nest for Angelina, who slipped easily onto my lap. Max sat beside me, his shoulder pressed right against mine.
I could feel every breath he took, could feel the strength in the muscles that rippled down his arms.
On the other side of me, I brushed against a man’s back as he guarded over a woman and three small children.
I shot a sheepish glance Max’s way, feeling suddenly speechless and uncomfortable, neither of which I was accustomed to. Angelina tipped her head back, looking first to me and then to Max, watching each of us silently in turn.
When she was satisfied—and comfortable—she leaned against my chest, and I saw her pull Muffin from her inside jacket pocket. She tucked the doll beneath her chin, using it as a makeshift pillow, and her breathing slowed.
“She’s tough, isn’t she?”
I narrowed my eyes at Max’s statement, a small smile finding its way to my lips. Angelina was tiny and fragile-looking, and she never spoke, but all of that was deceiving. She was whip-smart and took in everything around her. I’d always known that about her, even when everyone else underestimated her.