Chapter 40
FORTY
CURRENT DAY
Gliwice, Poland
My heart thunders, seizing my lungs into a gasp when I realize I fell asleep. It was dark last I looked out the window but now there’s a glow of sun striping the blankets.
I press my shaking hand on Noah’s chest, his skin cool but not cold. There’s warmth, enough to break through the extreme chill. His heart is stronger too, but still slightly erratic.
“Are you all right?” Elias asks, his back against the wall, eyes wide open, watching over Noah. I didn’t hear him come back in last night after tending to the fire.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“You needed sleep. You can’t take care of him or anyone if you aren’t taking care of yourself,” he tells me.
“What about you?”
Avi chuckles through a sound of irritation. “I was forced to lie in bed for a week. I’m all right.”
Noah stirs beneath my hand, a groan murmuring in his throat. His lashes flutter slowly, and multiple times over the span of a long minute. I stare at him, silently willing him to open his eyes and see me.
Avi leans forward, pressing her hands into the mattress.
The flutter stops and my stomach sinks with dread, but then his eyes open, just enough to see what’s in front of him.
They grow wider, exposing the beautiful storm of golds, greens, and browns as he searches between my face and Avi’s, his brows knitting together with tension. He doesn’t know Avi.
“Cold,” he whispers. How can he still be this cold after nearly a day?
“We—we’re—warm—warming you up,” I say, trying to sound brave, but failing.
“We won’t let you get cold again,” Avi adds, placing her hand on his blanket covered shoulder.
“Who?” Noah utters in a whisper, still looking between the two of us.
A jab of pain hits me without warning, sobs breaking through my chest. But I press my hand to my mouth to stop sound from escaping. It doesn’t stop the tears though.
“Celina, your wife,” Avi says, “and me, just a new friend, Avi, and Elias, wherever he is.”
Through the blur of tears, I can still see Noah close his eyes, though his brows stay tightly pressed into deep creases.
Elias walks into the room. I didn’t notice he was gone. He’s holding the metal bowl, with a blanket rolled up inside. “I added more tinder to the fire. It should be—” Elias steps in closer to Avi. “Has something happened?”
“He woke up for a minute, confused,” Avi says.
Avi takes the blanket for the bowl and Elias walks to the other side of the bed, patting his hand against my shoulder.
“I’m going to head into the village and start going through some of the collapsed houses in search of cans of food—something to buy us more time here.”
“You’re going to go alone?” Avi scolds him.
“It’s all right. The guards are gone. The village is empty.”
Avi gives him a look—a look I would give Noah if he were suggesting the same.
“Let me help. I need air.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll be all right here with Noah.” I think. I don’t know if that’s true, or even close to being true.
“We really do need food and water,” Elias says.
“Thank you. Just be careful,” I tell them.
Hours pass and I grow increasingly worried about Elias and Avi.
I don’t know how far this village stretches from where we are, or what’s left of it.
During the few minutes I’ve taken to use the barely functioning toilet, I’ve checked each window on both sides of the building for a sign of them, but there’s nothing but stillness out there.
I return to Noah’s side and climb back into the bed, wrapping my side up tightly with the layers. “I’m back.” I run my fingertips over Noah’s cheeks, smudging away more of the dirt, carefully avoiding the yellowing blossom of bruising that keeps growing.
“We’ve been inseparable most of our lives, Noah, and yet these last three years have felt like an entire lifetime, a new life, one I didn’t want.
I thought you were dead on the street in Amsterdam the day you saved me.
” It was still an us then. “I didn’t run like you told me to.
I looked back at the street, saw who I thought was you, lying in a pool of blood, face down.
My world crumbled—all of it within seconds.
I had never felt such agony, like someone had carved my heart out of my body.
I didn’t know how I could hold up my promise to you and find a way to live after that. ”
A squeaky whine breaks through the silence outside, and I can’t imagine what could cause that sound, which makes my heart race. I push myself up, trying not to shake the mattress, and stare toward the window as if I can see anything more than a few distant trees.
The low mutter of Elias’s voice pipes up just as the other sound stops, but I can’t make out what he’s saying.
“We—can’t stay here,” Noah says, his words only clear through his breath.
“Noah,” I say, touching his face again. “Do you know where we are?”
His mouth opens, just a crack, and nothing else follows. I lower my head back to his shoulder and fight the shudders of breath swelling in my lungs. I can’t convince myself we’ll ever be safe or even make it through this.
My body goes rigid when I hear footsteps clomping against the metal stairs. I pull the blankets up higher as if they could protect us from an unwanted arrival. Nothing can protect us.
“What if it’s not them?” I whisper against Noah’s chest.
His hand lifts from his other side and slides over his chest until his fingertips graze mine.
“Celina?” Avi’s voice startles me. I pull the blanket down away from my head, finding her at the foot of the bed with the metal bowl. “What happened?”
Behind her, Elias is dragging in loaded canvas bags.
“No—nothing,” I say, sniffling.
“We have food and a water source. Enough to keep us going for some time,” Avi says.
“It’s so much, we had to grab one of the abandoned wheelbarrows.”
“I’m going to bring the radio from downstairs up here so we can follow the war updates. If we have food and other supplies we found today, we should stay here for the time being,” Elias says.
I ease myself out of the bed and tuck the sides into Noah before stepping away. I kneel beside Elias and Avi to help untie the canvas bags. The smell of old snow and mildew strike me as the knots loosen. Tins clink against each other. The bag is heavy, and the tins are full.
Behind me, the metal frame beneath the mattress groans. My hands freeze around the bag before I turn toward Noah.
His breaths sound heavier. “Celina?”
Sound. His voice has sound.
Like the memory stitched into my mind. But real.
I push myself up and nearly stumble to the bed. “I’m here. I’m here,” I say, taking his hand that’s still draped across his chest. His eyes are open, but he isn’t looking at me, just past me toward the ground.
“I don’t want to ever see that thing again.”
I look over my shoulder, finding the German uniform we stripped off him. It’s strewn like a piece of trash, partially balled up, covered in mud, but the eagle insignia is still visible.
I shimmy to the side to block his view of the uniform. “You don’t need to worry,” I tell him. “We’ll get rid of it.”
But there is nothing but terror in his eyes.