Gestapo

7

As weeks went by, Peter barely noticed as more and more Jews filed in - men, women, and children - or as more and more Jews died - of starvation, disease, and muted gunshots in the dark of night. Peter actually had it much better off than most other concentration camps across the country, but he had no way of knowing that, so he woke to the morning bell, ate breakfast when it was offered, participated in the grueling outdoor activities under the cruel gaze of the sun, and was beaten by the Gestapo guards just like the rest of them - but by night, he would plan with the old man next door, and, finally, finally, everything was in place.

The man had been preparing the plan for months before, but now it was time.

And so, on the morning of that perfect day, Peter almost smiled. It was for a fleeting moment, but it was there - until he remembered that today was the day he would say goodbye to Rebecca forever. She would go back to her Max, not ever knowing how much Peter loved her. And he would stay here. No, he didn't belong here, but he would die here.

"Herrmann!" There was a loud crash just outside Peter's cell. An officer must have kicked his metal door. "Hurry up! Frühstück!" Breakfast. Good - Rebecca would need her strength for the escape.

During breakfast, it was announced that outdoor activities would be cancelled today. Peter should have known from looking outside, but it had seemed beyond these people to show any sign of sympathy or emotion. He and the man next door had been depending on outside activities and a dark day for their escape, but there was a backup plan. It had taken many weeks of hard work through days and nights, close calls, and feigned illnesses or disabilities for both of them, but there was a block of cement carved out of the wall behind the man's bed. It was big enough for Rebecca to slip through - she was frail and thin enough that it had been possible for them to create an escape hatch, but they had not wanted to use it. Now they would.

"Rebecca," It was strange. Peter spent so much timing thinking about her, but he hadn't really spoken to Rebecca much in the two months that they had been imprisoned. Talking to her came naturally to him, but he didn't really know anything about her. How was she? He didn't know. But would she be safer if she were with Max? The answer to this, he though he knew.