The Book Thief(67)

The new leader sat up fully and smiled, with straight white teeth. He then turned his casual focus onto the girl. Whos the little whore? Liesel, well accustomed to verbal abuse, simply watched the fog-ridden texture of his eyes.



Last year, she listed, I stole at least three hundred apples and dozens of potatoes. I have little trouble with barbed wire fences and I can keep up with anyone here.



Is that right?



Yes. She did not shrink or step away. All I ask is a small part of anything we take. A dozen apples here or there. A few leftovers for me and my friend.



Well, I suppose that can be arranged. Viktor lit a cigarette and raised it to his mouth. He made a concerted effort to blow his next mouthful in Liesels face.



Liesel did not cough.



It was the same group as the previous year, the only exception being the leader. Liesel wondered why none of the other boys had assumed the helm, but looking from face to face, she realized that none of them had it. They had no qualms about stealing, but they needed to be told. They liked to be told, and Viktor Chemmel liked to be the teller. It was a nice microcosm.



For a moment, Liesel longed for the reappearance of Arthur Berg. Or would he, too, have fallen under the leadership of Chemmel? It didnt matter. Liesel only knew that Arthur Berg did not have a tyrannical bone in his body, whereas the new leader had hundreds of them. Last year, she knew that if she was stuck in a tree, Arthur would come back for her, despite claiming otherwise. This year, by comparison, she was instantly aware that Viktor Chemmel wouldnt even bother to look back.



He stood, regarding the lanky boy and the malnourished-looking girl. So you want to steal with me?



What did they have to lose? They nodded.



He stepped closer and grabbed Rudys hair. I want to hear it.



Definitely, Rudy said, before being shoved back, fringe first.



And you?



Of course. Liesel was quick enough to avoid the same treatment.



Viktor smiled. He squashed his cigarette, breathed deeply in, and scratched his chest. My gentlemen, my whore, it looks like its time to go shopping.



As the group walked off, Liesel and Rudy were at the back, as theyd always been in the past.



Do you like him? Rudy whispered.



Do you?



Rudy paused a moment. I think hes a complete bastard.



Me too.



The group was getting away from them.



Come on, Rudy said, weve fallen behind.



After a few miles, they reached the first farm. What greeted them was a shock. The trees theyd imagined to be swollen with fruit were frail and injured-looking, with only a small array of apples hanging miserly from each branch. The next farm was the same. Maybe it was a bad season, or their timing wasnt quite right.



By the end of the afternoon, when the spoils were handed out, Liesel and Rudy were given one diminutive apple between them. In fairness, the takings were incredibly poor, but Viktor Chemmel also ran a tighter ship.



What do you call this? Rudy asked, the apple resting in his palm.



Viktor didnt even turn around. What does it look like? The words were dropped over his shoulder.



One lousy apple?



Here. A half-eaten one was also tossed their way, landing chewed-side-down in the dirt. You can have that one, too.



Rudy was incensed. To hell with this. We didnt walk ten miles for one and a half scrawny apples, did we, Liesel?



Liesel did not answer.



She did not have time, for Viktor Chemmel was on top of Rudy before she could utter a word. His knees had pinned Rudys arms and his hands were around his throat. The apples were scooped up by none other than Andy Schmeikl, at Viktors request.



Youre hurting him, Liesel said.



Am I? Viktor was smiling again. She hated that smile.



Hes not hurting me. Rudys words were rushed together and his face was red with strain. His nose began to bleed.



After an extended moment or two of increased pressure, Viktor let Rudy go and climbed off him, taking a few careless steps. He said, Get up, boy, and Rudy, choosing wisely, did as he was told.



Viktor came casually closer again and faced him. He gave him a gentle rub on the arm. A whisper. Unless you want me to turn that blood into a fountain, I suggest you go away, little boy. He looked at Liesel. And take the little slut with you.



No one moved.



Well, what are you waiting for?



Liesel took Rudys hand and they left, but not before Rudy turned one last time and spat some blood and saliva at Viktor Chemmels feet. It evoked one final remark.





A SMALL THREAT FROM

VIKTOR CHEMMEL TO RUDY STEINER

Youll pay for that at a later date, my friend.





Say what you will about Viktor Chemmel, but he certainly had patience and a good memory. It took him approximately five months to turn his statement into a true one.





SKETCHES





If the summer of 1941 was walling up around the likes of Rudy and Liesel, it was writing and painting itself into the life of Max Vandenburg. In his loneliest moments in the basement, the words started piling up around him. The visions began to pour and fall and occasionally limp from out of his hands.