Daughters of the Night Sky(55)

I could hear her cough over the interphone. She was trying to tell me something but was unable to speak—the smoke from the engine smothering her words, I guessed. Then she slumped forward. I saw the splotch of red on the back of her jacket and watched for a few seconds, paralyzed, as the red pooled larger and larger on her drab-green uniform.

My controls were unresponsive, rendered useless because Taisiya’s unconscious form weighed down on the stick. I stood up in my cockpit, leaning over my low windshield, and moved her backward so I could regain control. She was still breathing, shallowly. A German plane flew perilously close, so I didn’t bother to sit and maneuver from my own controls. I heard the roar of machine-gun fire but paid no heed to it. I had to choose between lobbing a grenade at it—next to useless, unless my aim was perfect—and keeping the plane from crashing a few meters away from the enemy’s base camp.

I flew the plane, leaning over Taisiya’s slumped form, painfully aware that I was exposed to any more attacks the Germans might think to throw at us. I opened the throttle as far as I could, muttering a senseless jumble of prayers that I would be able to get the plane back to base.




I expected to find the base a flurry of activity, but the planes were grounded and the crews still. All eyes scanned the sky, and it wasn’t until I touched down, landing as gently as I could on the bumpy grass we used for a runway, that any movement began. Medics rushed to the plane, but no one was readying more aircraft.

“Taisiya,” I gasped as Polina took me in her arms. My body, now that I was aware I was on the ground and aware that there was no German machine gun aimed at me, began shaking as though I had been doused in icy water. “She’s been hurt badly. She’s not conscious.”

Medics unstrapped her from her seat and lifted her from her cockpit as gingerly as they could, laying her on the bare ground to assess her. Her face was white as moonlight and streaked with crimson. I watched for those keen eyes to flicker with life, her chest to rise and fall, but there was nothing but stillness. I released Polina and knelt by Taisiya’s side. Taking her hand, I pressed my lips against her too-cold flesh.

Don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.

I didn’t mutter this aloud, knowing the only ears that mattered wouldn’t hear me. I remembered my horror in Moscow when Taisiya made me realize that we could have been separated into different regiments. I’d not contemplated that fate before she mentioned it, nor could I resign myself to this one. How could I fly without my pilot?

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” a medic said, his fingers on her wrist, seeking a pulse that I already knew wasn’t there.

I could hear Polina’s muffled sobs behind me. I could comfort her later.

The medic pronounced Taisiya had passed. He gave orders to have her placed on a stretcher and carried off, motioning for me to move aside so they could carry out their duty.

“Wait!” I snapped.

Taisiya’s sage brown eyes still looked blankly heavenward, like they sometimes did when she was contemplating a passage in one of her favorite books or a particularly complicated formula. I closed her eyes with a gentle motion of my fingers, softly kissed her forehead, then took her cool hand in mine once more. I pressed my lips to her bloodied knuckles, wishing her lungs would take a breath of their own accord.

“You promised Matvei, Taisiya. You promised him you would stay safe. You can’t—” I spoke in a rasp I barely recognized.

Renata and Polina took me in their arms so the medics could take her away.

“You have to let her go,” Renata said, rocking me gently.

My eyes followed the medics until I couldn’t make out their shapes in the dark any longer. My breath caught in my chest, and I hadn’t the first idea how to expel it.

“Oksana told us about the German counterattack,” Renata whispered, stroking my hair. “We thought you’d both gone down . . .”

“You were half-right. Oksana and Sofia made it back?”

“Oksana did. She’s bad off, but the medics seemed to think she’d be all right. They’re sending her to the hospital to be sure. Sofia . . .”

“They shot the pilots,” I said, blinking in realization. “They figured it was enough to take down the plane.” I felt ice permeate the marrow of my spine. We’d lost our leader. She and Taisiya were two of the most experienced in the regiment. Who would command us now?

“Effective enough,” Polina replied humorlessly. “We’re still missing Elsa’s and Mariya’s planes, and I’m not optimistic. Their mechanics have a bad feeling, and that never bodes well.”

“Oh God,” I said. “Six of us in one night.”

“Seven if we don’t get you to the hospital unit,” a medic said, racing to my side.

“What are you talking about?” I said, brushing his hand aside. I needed to assess morale and see what I could do for the rest of the regiment. With Sofia gone, they would need some direction. Oksana was on her way to a hospital, far from the front. And Taisiya . . .

No. I needed to organize the women to do something useful. They needed some warm tea and an occupation until they were calm enough to get some rest.

“Oh, Katya.” Renata looked down at my right side, and my eyes followed. The side of my flight jacket was drenched in warm blood.

“It must be . . . hers,” I said, unable to speak her name.