The Things We Cannot Say(98)

Henry fell silent for a moment. When the moment began to stretch, Tomasz stepped toward the older man and he dropped his voice, so low that I could barely hear it.

“There is no time, Henry,” Tomasz murmured. “They know who I am...what I’ve been doing... Soon enough, they will be looking for me if they aren’t already. Jakub needs to get on the road as fast as he can, in case they set up checkpoints. There is just no time for debate.”

“Tomasz,” Henry said, lips pursed. “Are you sure about this?”

“There is no other way.”

Henry sighed and ran his hand through his hair, then threw his hands into the air and turned to me.

“You have the film?”

“I do.”

“You have the rubles?”

I patted the leather bag I’d slipped across my shoulders, now hidden under my clothes.

“I do.”

“And you know the plan?” he said, as he withdrew from the pocket of his coat a small envelope. I nodded, and he held the envelope up right before me. “Here is a new identity card for you, in the name of Hanna Wis′niewski. It’s a forgery, and not a particularly convincing one, but it is the best I could do on such short notice, so you will have to make it work.”

I took the envelope and moved to put it into the pocket of my coat. Henry shook his head, and said incredulously, “Tuck it into your undergarments, Alina! You must protect this with your life. Do you understand me? No identity papers means no admission to the camp, and the British soldiers will be looking for my film inside the camp!”

Tears stung at my eyes, but I blinked them away as I pushed the envelope beneath my clothes, into the leather bag with the rubles. Henry looked from me to Saul, and he gave me a somewhat-desperate look.

“Dear God,” he muttered. “This is...”

“Henry. Alina is up to this,” Tomasz said flatly. “She will get that film where it needs to go. She is every bit as resourceful and capable as I am. Now let’s go.”

I grabbed Henry’s arm frantically.

“If I...if we happen to get captured? Is there anything I can do?”

He exhaled heavily, then gave me a searching look.

“If you’re captured and there’s time, destroy the film. Find a way. Otherwise...we must just hope that whatever happens to your body, that your captors don’t pay any attention to the cast, because if they find that film, it won’t be long before they find me and my colleagues too.”

We stood by the side of the road discussing the possibility of our executions as if it was nothing much at all—because in the scheme of things it wasn’t. In that circumstance, death was simply one of many things that could happen.

“Okay,” I said stiffly. “Got it.”

Henry led the way down a track, and soon the truck came into view. I hadn’t prepared myself for the sight of a man in a Wehrmacht uniform, leaning against the truck, smoking a cigarette. It was all I could do to stop myself from turning and running in the opposite direction.

“That’s Jakub,” Henry said quietly. And of course it was—because who else could drive openly on the roads to the Eastern Front, but a Wehrmacht driver, driving a Wehrmacht truck? I just hadn’t prepared myself for the sight of it. I hesitated and once again drew Henry’s ire.

“We must hurry, Alina—you know what’s at stake here, girl!”

It took more strength than I’d ever realized I possessed to start my feet walking again and move toward the man in that uniform, then to place my life in his hands.

“I’m Jakub,” the driver said as we neared.

“Alina,” I said automatically.

“No,” Henry corrected me impatiently. “You are not Alina. Who are you?”

I looked at him, but my mind was blank.

“I...can’t remember...”

“Hanna Wis′niewski!” Henry said impatiently. “You are Hanna Wis′niewski.”

“You know the plan?” Jakub glanced between us, his brows drawing. I swallowed hard as I nodded. Jakub frowned toward Tomasz, who was now jogging toward us—carrying Saul in his arms.

“Who’s going? There’s definitely no room for a third in there.”

“Just me and Saul—the man being carried,” I said miserably. Jakub winced. “Are you sure you’re up for this, lady?”

“Of course she is,” Tomasz said flatly, having finally caught up to us. Inside the truck, I could see the row of rations boxed against the deepest wall, behind several barrels and other loose containers. Jakub helped me to climb up into the tray, and Tomasz did the same for Saul, then leaped up to stand beside me. Henry was standing at ground level, but he was watching us and wringing his hands.

“You must be sure you are quiet,” Jakub said. “Perhaps you can whisper or talk quietly when we’re out on the road, but if the truck slows for any reason or it stops, you must assume I’m doing a delivery or picking up, and then be absolutely silent. So much as a cough or a sneeze—and not only are you both dead, but so am I.”

“What are you transporting?” I had a sudden terror that we’d be hidden in the back of a truck filled with explosives. Just one more thing to be terrified of—death by accidental explosion.

“Just fresh fruit and vegetables grown by the prisoners at Auschwitz,” he said, then he added bitterly, “The senior officers on the front line demand fresh produce, all the better if it’s drenched in the blood of our people.”