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✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲
The cargo ship was enormous, and in the end we managed to board it by climbing the rope ladder lowered from its stern. It was our last chance, for reaching it by the rear gangway had proved impossible. We moved slowly and silently, slipping from one hiding place to another behind the containers stacked securely across the deck. Crew members swarmed everywhere aboard the vessel, and I had no idea where we would conceal ourselves for the duration of the voyage.
Or perhaps I was the only one who didn't know.
Tobias seemed to have a plan.
At least, I hoped he did.
Sneaking and hiding like thieves, we eventually reached a cabin. Without the slightest hesitation, Tobias pulled the hunting knife from where it was tucked into his boot and slit the throat of the sailor stationed there.
The man collapsed instantly.
Blood poured from the gaping wound in his neck, pooling across the floor.
I stood frozen, staring at the scene before me.
Strangely, though, the sight of blood did not make me sick this time.
That, more than anything else, frightened me.
Lifting my eyes to Tobias, I frowned.
"I know how much this upsets you," he said, dropping onto the cabin sofa after locking the door behind us. He laid the knife on the fold-out table. "But it had to be done. In war, as in love, there are no rules. Every means is justified."
"No cause is noble enough to justify dishonorable means," I replied, sitting beside him and folding my arms across my chest.
"Albert Einstein, is it?" he asked, glancing sideways at me. He had recognized the quotation immediately.
"I'm only saying you could have forced him to keep silent instead of killing him."
"A bad peace is far worse than war itself. Believe me."
I offered no reply.
I knew I had no right to condemn him for the sailor's death.
Long before he met me, he had killed countless innocent people.
He had nearly killed me.
"The day before you kidnapped me," I broke the silence that had once again settled between us, this time heavy and oppressive, "I realized something. I thought about the fact that most of you soldiers probably don't even know why you're fighting."
"Of course we do," Tobias answered with a nod. "Hitler wants to conquer the world."
"Tobi... I hope you don't mind if I call you that."
He gave a slight nod of approval.
"That's not what I mean. You're all carrying out the whims of some thick-headed bastard, killing innocent people for reasons that can never be justified. You kill them even when you don't want to. Have you ever asked yourself how you'll feel after taking someone's life?"
I pointed toward the dead sailor lying in his own blood on the floor.
"I have," Tobias replied quietly. "And I still do. I think about it often. It doesn't save me from guilt, though. I understand what you're trying to say, Elizabeth. But that's what war is."
"Did you join the army willingly?" I asked, hoping to reach his heart by another path. I wasn't sure why I wanted to. Perhaps because I feared losing my own humanity.
"Yes. I had to hide my heritage. It was the only way to escape my fate."
"And did you choose the war?"
"No."
"Exactly." I spread my hands. "Some soldiers may not even have wanted to join the army—they were conscripted. But none of you imagined you'd end up in a real war, watching people die before your eyes, powerless to save them, knowing that if you don't save yourself first, you'll be the one lying dead."
"So now you understand why I had to kill that sailor."
Tobias leaned back against the wall and folded his hands over his stomach.
I turned toward him despite the dimness of the cabin.
"War has only one advantage," I whispered. "You can kill a man and never be punished."
"I let my mother die," I murmured, lowering my gaze to my trembling hands. "She had tuberculosis, and I did nothing to save her. I was training to become a nurse. I could have tried."
"Tuberculosis was incurable," he answered gently. "There was nothing you could have done. That doesn't count. I'm talking about pointing a gun at someone and pulling the trigger."
"When I first arrived at the military hospital, they brought in a wounded soldier. His body could still be saved. I was the chief surgeon's assistant, handing him every instrument he needed. He removed three bullets from the man's left arm, two from his shoulder, and four from his leg. After sewing up the wounds, he transferred him to the ward, and I was assigned to care for him."
I paused, drawing a shaky breath.
For a moment I looked at Tobias.
He watched me intently, listening so quietly I could scarcely hear him breathe.
So I continued.
"One day, while examining his wounds, I felt a lump in his throat. I reported it immediately. The doctors performed more tests and discovered he had advanced throat cancer. He didn't have long to live. Day after day he grew weaker, though they never stopped trying to save him. Then, on the day before he died, he asked me to take him outside for a walk."
The memory flooded back.
I swallowed hard and glanced again at the dead sailor on the floor.
Despite the pain tightening in my chest, I went on.
"When we were far enough from camp, he took out a pistol and placed it in my hand. He didn't ask me... he demanded that I kill him. He said he couldn't bring himself to end his own life, but he couldn't bear the agony anymore. Every part of him hurt. Every organ. He begged me for a long time, and in the end I gave in. The suffering in his eyes left me no choice. I had to grant his only wish. He wanted to be free. He told me death wasn't frightening—that it was gentle, that it freed us from all the pain we endure on this earth. When I returned to camp, I never told anyone what I had done."
"So you know what it feels like to take a life," Tobias said with understanding. "Even if it was what he wanted."
"I'm not proud that I let him persuade me."
"But you gave him freedom," Tobias replied, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "You fulfilled his last wish. He wanted it, Elizabeth. There are people for whom death is not terrifying. They welcome it as salvation."
"But most people don't want to die," I answered, my voice rising.
"I know," Tobias said quietly. "But when your friends' lives—and your own—are in danger, your first instinct is to survive. You'll do whatever it takes to save yourself."
"I wouldn't..." I began. "If I ever had to choose between living and dying, I would choose death without hesitation."
"Because that's who I am. Someone else's life will always matter more to me than my own. If I had reached your parents in time, I would have stood before the Red Army soldiers and begged them to shoot me instead."
"They would have," Tobias said, lifting his brows. "And then they would have turned around and killed my mother and father anyway."
