“It should be easy enough,” one of the three said. “How many ambulances are on the road?”
Richter was irritated. “More than you think. There’s a war raging, remember?”
“We’ll find them,” the leader said. “I promise you.”
Manfred eyed each in turn, his eyes showing anger, annoyed at their incompetence. “See that you do,” he warned, waving a finger in their faces. “Because if you don’t, the plans I had for them will instead be used for you.”
CHAPTER 70
York kept a wary eye in the mirror, watching the troop truck get closer, maintaining a constant speed. He didn’t want to act suspiciously, or seem like he was trying to flee, but he didn’t want to get captured either. The truck was traveling much faster than he was and, as the minutes passed, the gap between them closed.
“What’s the matter?” Amanda asked, watching him closely, her eyebrows knitted with concern.
“There’s a troop truck behind us. And it’s moving quickly. I can’t tell if they’re coming after us or just on the same road.”
“Is it the truck from the accident?”
“I’m not sure. But it’s gaining.”
They continued on the country road, approaching the merge that would take them back to their original route. But they were still ten kilometers away, and the map showed no intersections. The truck would reach them well before then.
Amanda watched the vehicle in the side mirror. “There are two men in the cab,” she said. “But I can’t tell if the fender is dented. It may be a different truck.”
“They could still be after us. Maybe when the injured soldiers got back to camp and described what happened, someone thought it was suspicious. They could have sent the truck after us. Better tell Erika to keep everyone quiet.”
Amanda opened the port and explained what was happening. The noise from the back, aimless chatter, a child singing, and Millie talking to the teenager, gradually subsided as Erika asked for silence.
York watched the mirror. The truck was close now, only a few meters behind their bumper. He eased up on the accelerator and guided the vehicle closer to the shoulder, waiting patiently for the truck to pass.
It didn’t. The truck slowed to the same rate of speed, hugging the bumper of the ambulance. York sped up, just a bit.
The truck increased its speed also, keeping the same distance. They were so close he could see the driver’s face. It was a man, not the boy involved in the accident. It was someone with experience, someone who may have seen combat.
York was annoyed. “I’m not sure what they’re doing,” he said. “They don’t want to pass. They don’t want to stop us. They want to stay glued to our bumper. Maybe they’re waiting for us to make the first move.”
He watched the driver’s head turn, talking to the passenger, before moving his eyes back to the road. What were they discussing? Was it the ambulance?
They were five kilometers from the merge when they passed a narrow dirt road on the left, barely visible through the trees. Suddenly the troop truck braked, slowed considerably, and turned into the woods.
York breathed a sigh of relief. “That lane must lead to the camp.”
The strain so visible on Amanda’s face slowly dissipated. “This has been the longest day of my life,” she said. “I’ve never dealt with danger before. Now it never leaves me.”
“Tell Erika another fifteen minutes or so and we’ll stop. I’ll find a spot in the woods somewhere once we’re on the other road.”
Five minutes later they were back on their original route, the road little-traveled and surrounded by forest. After driving for fifteen kilometers, York saw a slender dirt trail. He pulled off the road and into a grove of evergreen trees and got out of the ambulance, stretching.
The children remained well behaved, and once again York was struck by their innocence, their absolute trust in Inga, the teenage girl that managed them, and in Erika. They seemed incapable of thinking evil thoughts; it would never occur to them that someone might treat them badly. They were content with what they had, trusting who they were with, and marveling at what most take for granted: the height of the trees, the sound of the birds, the beauty of a flower. As York watched them, eating and skipping around the forest, he realized that his life would always be a bit richer because they had walked into it.
Samuel and Sarah quickly adapted to their new family, clinging to Millie, Erika’s mother. She was so frail, so thin and tired, that they felt compelled to care for her. York wondered if they had any family left. He wasn’t sure what to do with them when they reached Switzerland, but he was sure someone would be willing to care for them.
York studied the map as Amanda chatted with Erika. It was another two hours to Nuremberg, which was more than halfway. The route had them take rural roads around the city, almost in a semi-circle, and then remain on country roads the rest of the journey, bypassing the last metropolitan center, Stuttgart, on their way to Switzerland. The remainder of the trip would be through forest and farm fields, safer and more secluded than the first half.
They got back in the ambulance an hour later, still ahead of schedule, and continued on. York watched the needle on the fuel gauge slowly move, knowing he had the ten-liter tank as reserve. They drove two more hours, until darkness slowly consumed the skies. He pulled the truck into another dirt lane, this time at the edge of the forest just before a stretch of farmland, the fields fallow for winter.
York walked to the edge of the trees and studied the farm beyond. He could see a barn in the distance, built sturdily of stone, a long sloping roof to ease the winter snows to the ground. It was several stories high, rising in a steep triangle, the top of the pyramid stucco and timber. An outbuilding extended perpendicular to the barn, one wall open to the weather. He could see a tractor and another vehicle, maybe a small truck, parked in the lean-to. A large house sat on the other side of the barn, its roof line and chimneys visible from where he stood.
He emptied the ten-liter can into the ambulance’s petrol tank and did a quick calculation. If he could get ten more liters, they would be close. But maybe not close enough. Nothing would be worse than being stranded near the Swiss border, but not near enough to get to it.
Amanda and Erika were sitting with the children in and about the ambulance, all wrapped in blankets. York finished filling the petrol tank and walked to the rear of the vehicle.
“I’m going to see what’s at that farmhouse,” he told them. “I should be back in about thirty minutes.”
A flicker of fear crossed their faces, the thought of being alone overwhelming. He realized how traumatic the journey was for two people more accustomed to violins and concert halls.
“I won’t be long,” he promised.
He set off with the fuel can, working his way through the darkness and staying near the edge of the trees. It took him longer than he thought, the distance across the open field farther than he estimated, but he soon reached the edge of the lean-to. He could hear rustling in the barn, probably cows or chickens or whatever livestock the farmer had. He paused, waiting, but heard no voices. Hopefully the farmer was done for the day and was now sitting in front of a fire or radio, having enjoyed a good supper.
York slipped into the building, moving stealthily to the tractor. Its fuel tank sat high, making it easier to siphon. He slipped the rubber hose in until it touched the bottom, and then withdrew it, trying to gauge what was in the tank.
It wasn’t much, definitely less than half and probably closer to a quarter. But it was a large tank. He might get ten liters. He sucked through the hose, spitting out petrol, and stuck the end in his can.
It took about five minutes and, as the level increased in his can, he pulled the rubber hose from the tractor tank, letting the remnants drain in his container. He was getting much better at siphoning, and hadn’t spilled a drop. He put the lid back on the tractor’s fuel tank and secured his container.
He was about to slide out from underneath
the tractor when he heard a noise. It was faint at first, maybe an animal in the fields. He remained still, listening intently, watching.
He heard the noise again, louder, footsteps, someone walking. He peeked from around the tractor’s tire. A pair of legs came into view, coming from the barn.
CHAPTER 71
The children were inside the ambulance, overseen by Millie and Inga, sheltered from the cold. Amanda and Erika sat on the front bumper, anxiously waiting for York’s return. Sounds of the forest kept them alert: an owl hooting, unseen creatures scrambling through fallen leaves, branches swaying in the breeze. They felt vulnerable without York, and the slightest sound produced an uneasy fear of the unknown.
“Erika, you’re the strongest, most compassionate person I’ve ever known,” Amanda said. “I can’t even fathom the hardships you’ve faced, devoting your life to these children.”
Erika sighed, her face grim, hiding exhaustion. “Thank you so much, but anyone would have done it, if faced with the same dilemma. But it hasn’t been easy.”
“How long have you been caring for them?”
“I started with two children, Rudolph and Gertrude, about three years ago. The rest came over the next year or two. Inga arrived last, the same time that Friedrich, the last of the children did. She’s an orphan, and so are all the children.” Her eyes clouded, misted by memories. “Inga came just after Wilhelm was killed.”
Amanda rubbed her arm, knowing how devastated she was by her husband’s death. “I would have helped you, if I had only known. Even financially, so you wouldn’t have had to work so hard.”
“I was afraid to tell anyone,” Erika said. “Even you. I had Wilhelm in the beginning, and my mother helped before she got sick. She was working then, too, so we had more money. But it’s been so difficult the last year or so. Even those times that you helped with my mother, I was afraid the children would make noise when you were in the apartment, and you would suspect something.”
“I don’t know how you did it. I know I never could.”
“I took any work I could find: scrubbing floors, sewing clothes, waitressing. At times I was so tired, I could have slept for a week straight.”
Amanda hugged her. “It’ll be over soon.”
Erika took a deep breath. “I just want the children to be safe and free. You see how excited they are to be outside. Imagine living in one room for years.”
Amanda was overwhelmed by all Erika did, all she had accomplished. It seemed so incredible. “Do you know what I want to be?” she asked.
“No, tell me,” Erika said.
“I want to be more like you.”
Erika blushed. “Amanda, you’re too kind.”
“I mean it. And I want to help you.”
“Thank you, but I haven’t even thought about what I‘ll do when we get to Switzerland. I hope people there will help the children. My mother and I don’t have a lot of money.”
“Wherever we finally end up, whether it’s Switzerland or London, I want to help you and your mother, Inga and the children, and any other children in need.”
Erika showed surprise, her eyes wide. “It’s very much appreciated. But I can’t ask you to do that. Not that you even could.”
“You don’t have to ask me. Just tell me what you want or need, and I will provide it. For as many children as you have the strength to care for. And you can even hire people to help you.”
“Are you serious?” Erika asked with disbelief.
Amanda smiled. “Yes, I am. I never really talked about it, but I have the family fortune tucked away in London. It’s time I started to use it, especially for a good cause. It’s more money than I could ever spend. So I am going to help you. And I won’t take no for an answer.”
Erika was stunned. “Amanda, I don’t know what to say. You would really do all that for me?”
“Absolutely, and with no hesitation.”
Erica was overwhelmed, her mind traveling in a dozen different directions. “There are so many children that need care. I would love nothing more than to devote my life to helping them.”
Amanda smiled, touching her friends arm. “Then that’s what you should do.”
Erika hugged her, clinging to her tightly, her eyes tearing. They sat for a moment, each stealing a few seconds to envision a future that lived only in their dreams. After a moment had passed, Erika thought of something she had wanted to ask, but wasn’t sure she should. But it seemed like the right time.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” she asked Amanda.
“Not that I can think of,” Amanda replied, pensive. “What about?”
“Michael.”
Amanda smiled, and leaned closer to her friend. “Is it that noticeable?”
Erika laughed. “Yes, it is. I didn’t realize at first. I thought you were just grateful he was rescuing you from Manfred. But I started to notice that you always sit next to him, you’re always close, and your eyes twinkle when you’re near him.”
“Oh, Erika, I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am. We have so much in common I feel like I met the male version of me. He’s a classical music lover, and can discuss the masters as easily as we can. He loves architecture, buildings and bridges, and he spends hours looking at my photographs. And I think he actually likes them!”
Erika laughed. “And you’re both from the United Kingdom with similar backgrounds and beliefs. It’s no wonder.”
“I feel like I have a second chance at life,” Amanda said. “Each day we’ve been together has been a gift from heaven. We have our whole life ahead of us.”
Erika hugged her again. “If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”
Amanda was sheepish. “There’s more.”
Erika cast a quizzical look, seconds passing in silence, the suspense building. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”
Amanda smiled, her face lighting the darkened night. “I’m carrying Michael’s child.”
CHAPTER 72
York watched the legs move towards the lean-to, unable to see the upper body. They belonged to a man, his thighs thick, pants smudged with dirt, boots sturdy. His stride was long and measured, without hesitation, even in the darkness. The man had walked the same path many times.
York pushed the petrol can as far underneath the tractor as he could. He crouched behind the rear tire, peeking around the edge.
The legs came closer, the bottom of the jacket and then the torso were visible, but the face was not. York knew the man would never suspect someone was in his shed, stealing his petrol. But he also knew if the man saw him, he wouldn’t hesitate to protect his property. And if he perceived the threat to be dangerous, he would protect his life.
The man walked into the lean-to, moving through the narrow space between tractor and truck, just a few meters away. He paused for a moment, his hand rummaging through his pocket, and then continued towards the back of the building. If he moved much father, he was certain to see York.
The tire was large, over a meter high, and York squeezed closer behind it, hoping to stay hidden in the darkness, knowing the man was near. But he realized he was trapped, with no place left to go. And he didn’t want to resort to force. Not with an innocent farmer, probably elderly, who was as far removed from the battlefield as any German could be.
The truck door opened. There was a slight rustling sound, faint unknown noises, and then a moment later the engine started.
York breathed a sigh of relief but stayed where he was, crouched low against the ground, and waited. The truck remained where it was, idling.
A few seconds passed painfully, neither man nor machine moving. If the farmer started both vehicles, letting them run a few minutes to warm the engines, York would never get out. But he had his cane, and he had his pistol, and he would use them if he had to.
A moment later, the truck door closed. The vehicle was put in gear and driven out of the shed, traveling down the dirt lane. It turned at the road, moving in the opposite direction
from where the ambulance was parked.
York didn’t know how long the man would be gone, but he didn’t want to linger. He picked up the fuel can and left, crossing the field but staying in the shadows by the forest where the moonlight couldn’t cut the darkness. Twenty minutes later, after hobbling through the furrowed field, he was back at the ambulance, Amanda and Erika waiting for him.
“What took so long?” Amanda asked, alarmed. “We saw that truck cross the field and were worried sick. We were afraid something happened to you.”
“Only a slight delay,” he said. “I had finished filling the petrol can when the farmer came out. I hid, not knowing what to expect, but he got into his truck and drove away. I don’t know where he’s going this late at night, unless he’s visiting a neighbor.”
York’s own words caused him concern. What if the farmer saw him and went to get the authorities? That didn’t seem likely. But what if he returned and the ambulance was visible from the road, especially with the headlamps trained on it. He needed to check.
“I’m going to make sure we’re well hidden,” he told Erika and Amanda. “I’ll only be gone a minute.”
He went out to the road and then into the field, but the ambulance couldn’t be seen, at least not in the darkness. He wasn’t sure when morning came.
When he returned, Amanda and Erika were inside the vehicle putting the children to bed. York watched as they shared the available space, doubling up, evenly placed along the four two-meter cots. Blankets were placed along the aisle, and Samuel and Sarah and Inga slept there. Erika and her mother took the space against the partition.
York and Amanda returned to the cab. They talked for a few minutes but, as time passed, York noticed that Amanda’s responses took longer and longer, until he heard the contented rhythm of her slumber.
He stayed awake a while longer, thinking of the future, and fingered the photograph in his pocket. What a fabulous family he would have, Amanda and the baby, with Elizabeth in his life again. It seemed almost too good to be true.
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