Hope among the ruins (EN) ✅

Chapter 22

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I slowly recovered and blinked a few times. I saw a pink sky. Later I felt myself being carried. I was held by the solid hands of a soldier. I could not see his face, only his chin covered with black hair and his dark, wide nostrils, from which a few black hairs protruded.

Out of exhaustion, I put my head to the bearer's chest and he lowered his head and looked at me. I saw greenish wide eyes, lush thick eyebrows, jutting jaws, a broad nose and a blunt chin.

"Toby..." I moaned in a low, croaky voice, trying not to fall asleep.

"He's not here," answered the soldier in German, who was still holding me tightly in his arms and carrying me somewhere. I could hear the footsteps of at least two more pairs of boots in the distance, behind us and also in front of us, the quiet hum of car engines.

"Where is he?" anyway, I didn't phrase the question that way.

"I would also be interested to know where he put it," she shot back.

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?"

"Calm down," the man chastised me as soon as I started to wriggle in his arms. "We are Toby's accomplices. Refugees just like him and you. We'll protect you until that fool finally decides to come to our hideout."

"What if he..."

"Drowned?" he interrupted. "Please... Even the devil wouldn't take that idiot. Die in an honorable fight without even trying to save yourself? Not his way. I'm sure he survived. In addition, he can swim."

"How did you save me?" I asked.

"It was lucky that we were nearby when the soldiers of our platoon found the ship you two were on and fired two rockets at the ship. The storm favored them in that the ship stopped and did not sail any further."

"Soldiers in your squad?" I was surprised.

"Yes. Hitler ordered Toby to kill you, he disobeyed the order and helped you escape. Later, he disappeared just before assigned secret missions, which raised suspicions. He didn't even try to disguise his secret plan and escape. Of course, we helped him and now we are also running away from the war. It didn't take long for the soldiers of our platoon to find out what the matter was. They discovered that Tobias was a Jew and began to persecute you. Now they think you're dead and they'll keep hunting Toby."

"We have to protect Toby," I started wriggling even more in the boy's arms, until finally he stopped and carefully put me on my feet, but continued to hold me tightly by the torso. He must have noticed how unsteady I was on my feet.

"Calm down," the green-eyed soldier, and at the same time Toby's accomplice in escaping from the war, squeezed my torso tightly with both hands. "Our other accomplices are already looking for him. And we have to find a hiding place. Trust me, you don't want to see German soldiers shoot their own..."

After his words, there was an explosion somewhere nearby. I couldn't say exactly where the sound came from, but it seemed very close. Maybe even within ten feet of us. After the explosion died down, the next wave arrived: this time someone started throwing grenades and shooting at us.

Everything happened at such an unpredictable speed that I hardly understood what was really happening. All I could think about was hiding here, but there was no where. Next to me and the green-eyed soldier lay the corpses of deserters who had fled the war. Some of them were injured. Some had broken legs or arms. Others had gaping wounds in their bellies or chests, oozing with blood.

I barely resisted the temptation to fall to the wounded and give them first aid. I was fighting my man, so for a few very long seconds I had to convince myself that it would be better if I didn't touch them. If I don't even approach them. I still won't be able to save them. They will die anyway.

I looked around, there was a dense forest next to us. Instinctively, I jumped to one of the injured and began searching his backpack for a first aid kit. I only found a few rolls of bandaged, so while others were shooting with something, while bombs were exploding above my head, I bandaged the wounded man, trying not to forget that there were at least five more bleeding bodies lying nearby.

Still, I gave in to my primal instinct to help another, but not myself, even though I knew it might cost my own life.

When I finally got to the last soldier with a big chest and was going to give the guy first aid, I was pulled back with a strong force. I only blacked out as I walked away from the scene of the shooting and mopped with my bloody hands.

"Let me finish my job," I screamed in a voice that wasn't my own.

"Don't be silly," I heard a male voice behind me, but it wasn't the voice of the same guy who carried me in his arms earlier. "We have to hide somewhere at least for a while. You did not think of taking care of the wounded at the wrong time."

"I have to save them."

"You can't help them anymore. They will die soon." He objected and rudely turned to himself.

Now standing in front of me was a blue-eyed, blond-haired, stocky guy. His face was smeared with soot, on his head was a dark green helmet, into which he had thrown various grasses and tree branches with large leaves.

"Are you leaving them all to their fate? After all, they are soldiers of your squad. And those who help you escape from the war," I began to condemn him and looked him in the face with disgust.

"Stop explaining to everyone here," he retorted rudely and grabbed my wrist and began to drag me into the depths of the forest. "There is a war going on. It cannot control the death of every soldier or civilian. Can't stop it Elizabeth."

I didn't say anything else to him, but I tried to get out of his grip. The more I tried to do it, the harder and more painful he squeezed my wrist. I tripped over every root of a tree or creeper, my shoes digging into the moss, which only made running more difficult.

I don't know how long our journey into the depths of the forest took, but this blond soldier suddenly stopped and let go of my hand. I began to rub the sore spot as I watched him walk over to the small cave and crouch down next to it. I instinctively moved closer to see this guy open the cobwebbed round wooden door and then look up at me.

"Get in," he called, and after standing up and leaving the door open, he placed a small spotlight in my palm. "Hurry up. We don't have much time."

I directed the light of the searchlight to a small opening and estimated that even I, who am not so tall, would have to crawl inside squatting or even on all fours.

In the dim light I saw a metal ladder leading down to my side. I looked doubtfully at the blonde, who was stomping impatiently in one place, waiting for me to go downstairs. I carefully turned and placed one foot on the fifth - or so it seemed to me - rung of the ladder, moved the other foot, and soon began to descend.

The ladder rail was cold and damp and slippery. The lower I went, the colder I felt. I don't know how long it took for me to land, but when I finally felt solid ground under my feet I felt a bit of relief and let out a sigh that had been building up in my lungs.

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