The Darkest Hour(34)

“I’ll tell the Resistance to dispose of them.”

“What about you?” Guilt gnaws at me for what we’ve exposed her to. “You shouldn’t stay here—”

“After I’ve taken you to the safe house, I’ll go to my sister’s.” She peers cautiously out the window and begins herding us down the stairs. “We must hurry.”

Once we’ve piled up the bodies, Sabine and I change into a couple of Madame Rochette’s old dresses and pick over the Nazis’ weapons. We strap their pistols to our thighs and tuck their pocketknives into our brassieres. The rifles are far too big to carry with us, but I miss the weight of their bullets just the same.

Sunlight leeches from the sky as we dive into the shadows. Madame Rochette leads the way, walking a block ahead of us with Dorner next to her while Sabine and I follow suit. I figured it would be easier to hide in plain sight as separate pairs than the four of us crammed together. We’ve already passed five corpses on the street, their bodies propped up with spikes through their throats. As if that weren’t warning enough, the Nazis had scrawled a message and tied it around one of the victims’ feet: For aiding and succoring the Resistance. I can only imagine what they have in store for a spy like me.

There’s another reason why I suggested we travel in pairs. I need a moment with Odette. The streets have nearly emptied, and we’re alone on our block, but I hush my voice just the same.

“Did they arrest you?”

Sabine stiffens. “Yes.”

“What did they want?”

“What else could they want? To see my papers. To question me.”

“When?”

We walk into the shadows of a bombed-out apartment building, and she steps over a sharp piece of rubble, choosing her words just as carefully as she chooses her steps. “Not even an hour after we parted ways. There was a patrol, and there wasn’t time to hide.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Nothing important. I gave them Fifine’s cover story.”

For ten whole hours? But I remind myself that Sabine is Sabine, Harken’s favorite. If anyone could lie for that long and get away with it, it would be her. “How did you escape?”

She winces, and I know I’ve dragged up a brutal memory. “How do you think? I used my ‘womanly charms’ on him. Is your curiosity satisfied?”

The color leaves my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Then don’t. I’d prefer to forget about all that, and I’d ask you to do the same.” For a second, her hardened mask falls off to reveal a trembling girl underneath. “Please.”

I blink at her. I don’t think she has ever said please to me before. Or to anyone. That’s why I swallow the barrage of questions in my throat. I can’t help but think that if she had been the one to take the bicycle into town, then I probably would’ve been the one who got picked up by the Nazis—and I’d have the bumps and bruises and bad memories to show for it.

Sabine wraps her arms around herself. “Tell me about Dorner. What have you discovered?”

I inhale a deep breath because I’ll need it for what I have to say next. Then, once I make sure that the street is completely empty around us, I give her the bare-bones version of what Dorner has told me: about the laboratory, about the virus, and about what will happen next. With every detail I give, Sabine simply stares ahead, but I can see the muscles in her jaw twitching.

“So this is what they have been working on. A weapon we’ll have no defense against,” she mumbles. “You believe what he has told you?”

“He has a folder full of paperwork and photographs, all taken from this secret Wunderwaffe laboratory.” I nod ahead of us to where both he and Madame Rochette are walking. Despite the danger it will bring us, Dorner still has his papers on him, wrapped in a tarp to keep them dry and tucked inside the back of his shirt, secured with a belt. I don’t like the idea of having all that intelligence out in the open, but both the SOE and Covert Ops need to see the evidence for themselves. Once they see that photo of the young girl crying blood … I sweep that image away, though, because I haven’t told Sabine everything yet. “There’s more. Right before you arrived, Dorner told me that the Allies have a double agent among us. In Paris.”

Sabine finally looks at me. “Who? Someone in the Resistance?”

“Maybe even higher up. He told me he’d give us the name when we arrive at the Channel. He wants full immunity in England.”

I wait for Sabine to bluster and to call Dorner a list of terrible names for bribing us like this. I may even have to hold her back from choking the double agent’s name out of him. Instead Sabine doesn’t do much of anything. She goes quiet as she looks over at Dorner. He’s a half block ahead of us, with his arm linked around Madame Rochette’s, like a grandmother and grandson out for a stroll. He does glance back at us every other minute to make sure that we’re following, and I cautiously wave him on.

“Do you trust him?” she asks.

I chew on that. Yes, Dorner has answered my questions and has shown me his folder of proof, but that doesn’t mean we should throw our arms around him and welcome him to the Allies. But here’s the other side of that coin—can we take the risk of not trusting him? Of ignoring the Zerfall virus?