Beyond the Shadow of Night(53)

“Okay,” Asher said, and drifted back into that state that was neither awake nor asleep, more an acute awareness that important events were happening outside and sooner or later he would be at their mercy. He was never completely sure if his eyes were open or shut. His balance, too, seemed to have no frame of reference, and more than once he had the sensation of falling down a hole, only to wake with a start.

Then.

A crack. One single crack, like a piece of wood being broken.

The door, perhaps?

His senses went into overdrive. Should he ask Rina if she’d heard it too? No, too dangerous. Be silent. And breathe quietly, all the better to hear.

A hand on his ankle again. Squeezing. This time so tightly it hurt.

So, Rina had heard it too.

But what to do?

Nothing.

Be quiet. Be still. One false move and the wardrobe could become a coffin.

Another cracking sound. This time Asher was definitely awake, and he heard it loud and clear. The sound didn’t come from the door, but from the other side of the room. It was like wood splintering.

A third crack, and now there was movement—like a hinge in need of a drop of oil.

Asher heard a thumping sound and felt it too, as if someone had just landed on the floorboards.

Were those footsteps?

It was hard to know.

Now he felt Rina’s grip tighten on his leg, her desperate nails almost breaking through his skin, making him clench his teeth rather than yelp in pain.

Another creak, this time lighter.

The wardrobe door?

The next thing Asher became aware of was the bundle of clothes being dragged off him, followed by the smell of soot and sweat from the hand clasped over his mouth.

“Shh!” he heard.

The hand came away from his mouth, although slowly, as though not quite trusting. But Asher was too confused to speak.

Then there was a face. It happened in a flash—the flash of a match being lit.

On the other side of the match was the blackened and furtive face of a man.

Asher squinted to see past the wavering yellow light, unsure for a moment whether he recognized him.

The man used his free hand to pull the clothes off Rina and then cover her mouth too. When he pulled it away he held his index finger up to his mouth. “Don’t scream,” he whispered. “You must be Rina, yes?”

Rina, too shocked to speak, didn’t reply, didn’t move.

The man now looked at Asher. “And you are Asher? You’re the two Kogans, yes?”

“Yes, we are,” Asher said.

Then the tiny light between them flickered and died, and soon another match lit up their faces.

Yes. Asher knew this man.

“I’m Josef,” he said. “I worked with you and your papa at the brick factory.”

Asher went to speak, but Josef held up a silencing finger. “We can talk later,” he said. “For now, just follow me.”

They crawled out of the wardrobe, gently and quietly unfolding their limbs, taking a few moments to stretch their backs.

Now Asher could see a little moonlight casting a bluish hue onto the window. The wooden frame was crooked, hanging by one hinge, clearly wrenched off.

“Don’t speak, and try not to make any noise,” Josef said. He lifted the window frame to one side, and in the half-light Asher saw two wooden stumps leaning against the outside wall.

He felt a nudge from Rina, asking him to go first.

A moment later, he was leaning out of the window, peering down to the street below. He could just make out another man standing at the foot of the ladder.

“Quickly,” Josef said. “The guards will patrol this area soon.”

Asher scrambled out of the window and as good as flew down the ladder. Before his feet touched the ground, the man standing there gave two raps on the ladder with his knuckles.

Before Asher knew it, Rina was with him. They stood next to each other, both scanning the street.

Another two raps on the wood and Josef’s feet appeared at the top. He was halfway down when they all heard a commotion at the end of the street, and looked to see vague figures in the distance, shouting and weaving left and right.

Josef’s feet thumped down onto the ground, and Asher felt his muscles tighten as he watched him pull out a pistol and shoot in the direction of the figures.

“Follow me!” the other man shouted, and they all ran, Josef occasionally turning back to fire more shots.

The next few minutes were frantic. Asher and Rina were led down one street here, up another there, through the front door of one house, out the back door, up a back alley, and out onto another street. At each turn there were shots—in both directions, Asher thought. At one stage Josef and the other man swapped places, with Josef leading them through the front door of a house and immediately through another door.

Now there wasn’t even moonlight to help them, and Josef lit another match.

Asher looked around. They were in a kitchen—a very ordinary-looking one. Before he had time to ask questions, Josef opened the oven door and in his whispered rasp said, “In!”

Asher looked at the oven, a fairly large but otherwise unremarkable affair. He looked at Rina, and then at Josef.

“It’s all right,” Josef said. “Just get in. Go through.”

Shots from outside made Rina react first, dropping to the ground and forcing her head into the oven. She stopped and turned, looking up at Josef.