Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13 Paul got Pierre some water and sat with him a moment. Then he went and stood outside the room where Victor was and waited. Maman and Mr. Spire came out a few minutes later. Maman's dress was splattered with blood, her face slick with sweat. "I got the bullet out and stitched the wound," she said. "I gave him some medicine for the pain.

He'll be asleep for a few hours at least." She wrapped an arm around Paul as they walked back to the radio room. "Maman… will he be all right?" Paul asked. "I've seen much worse," Maman said. "I do think he's going to make it. We'll know more when he wakes up." Back in the radio room, Mrs. Bernard said she'd go sit with Victor. She called to Pierre. "Come in with me," she said. "I can wrap up your ankle." With the Nazi notebook in hand, Mr. Leon repeated Pierre's story for Maman and Mr. Spire. He showed them the page with the location of the Nebelwerfers on the cliffs. "We need to get there and destroy them now," he said. "But how?" Maman asked. "I ride my bicycle on those roads every day. The road to the beach is blocked off. They have guards posted near all the paths that lead to the cliffs. They've blocked everything off with barbed wire."

Paul peered over Mr. Leon's shoulder at the map once again. He pictured the exact spot where it said NbW—a grassy field on the cliffs overlooking the beach. "I know how to get there without the roads," Paul blurted. "There's a way to cut through the hedgerows, cross these woods, and then climb up over a fence." Mr. Spire and Mr. Leon looked at Paul. "Can you draw us a map?" Mr. Spire asked. Mr. Leon grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil from the box next to the radio. They watched as Paul started to sketch it out. But he'd barely gotten started when he realized there was no way he could put his route on paper. There were too many twists and turns, too many secret cuts in the bushes that only Paul—or Gerard—would be able to see. He put the pencil down. "I can't draw it or tell you," Paul said. "I need to be able to see where I'm going."

Three sets of eyes stared at him. "I'll go there. I'll show you." "No, Paul," Mr. Leon said, putting his hand on Paul's head. "No boy should do anything like this." Paul knew that was right. And no eleven-year-old boy should have his papa behind barbed wire. No eleven-year-old boy should see his teacher shot. No eleven-year-old boy should have his best friend taken in the night. Paul looked at Maman. Their eyes locked. She gave Paul a nod. "I'll take him," Maman said to Mr. Leon. "Anna, no. You're the only one who will be able to help Victor if he takes a turn for the worse," Mr. Spire said. "I would go. But this leg…" Mr. Leon sat quietly for what seemed like a very long time. Finally he stood up. "Paul," he said. "We leave in five minutes."