Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12 FIVE WEEKS LATER JEWISH PARTISAN CAMP LODA FOREST Max sat up in bed, his heart pounding with fear. It was the same every morning — he kept thinking he was still in that ditch. It always took him a moment to realize where he was, and that he and Zena were safe. They were in their underground sleeping hut. Six men snored around them, their rifles by their sides. Zena snuffled softly on the tiny bed of logs she shared with Max. He reached and rested his hand lightly on her arm.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, smiling at him. "Today's the day," she whispered. Aunt Hannah, Lev, and Martin were due back from a mission, their first since the attack in the forest. They had gone back toward Esties, to get some supplies from Mr. Jablonski. Max followed Zena up a short ladder that led to the overhead door of the hut. He winced in pain as he hoisted himself out the door. His wound was almost healed. The purple, puckered scar was even grislier than the ones Aunt Hannah and Martin had shown them. Dr. Zelman, the partisan doctor, kept telling Max how lucky he'd been. The bullet had lodged between two of his ribs. An inch in either direction and he wouldn't have survived. Zena had told him the details of those hours after he'd been shot — how Martin had packed the wound with strips of fabric torn away from his own shirt, how he and Zena had stayed there,

hiding in the bushes, praying that Max would survive. Max remembered none of it. But he'd heard the story of that day and night over and over, and he could picture it all in his mind. After Martin had bandaged Max's wound, he'd hoisted him onto his back and led Zena to a large crater created by one of the bombs. He covered it with pine branches and they hid there as the soldiers swarmed around them. They stayed there for hours, until it was dark. Max was groaning in pain, and he seemed to be fading. Martin knew they needed to find a doctor as soon as possible, that he had to try to get them back to the camp. And so once again, Martin put Max onto his back. He took Zena's hand. They crept through the burning darkness, dodging behind trees when they heard footsteps. There was no way to get to the underwater bridge — it was more than a mile

away. They would have to cross the swamp in the water. This was the part of the story that was hardest for Zena to tell; her blue eyes always grew shadowy with fear. The water had been freezing cold, and the knifelike swamp grasses had sliced through their clothes. Snakes slithered between their legs, and sharp-toothed creatures nipped at them. But the worst was the mud, which at times came up past Zena's waist. Once, she became stuck, and it took all of Martin's strength to pull her out. Finally it was too dangerous to keep going in the dark. They stopped in a cluster of dead trees that rose from the water like twisted skeletons. The forest glowed eerily around them, machine-gun fire pounded in the distance. And then came the most terrifying moment, when an enormous creature came floating through the water toward them.

But it turned out to be Hannah and Lev, gripping a giant branch. The small group waited together until the sun came up, and then finally made it to the island. As Aunt Hannah had predicted, the camp had escaped the bombing. And within minutes, Max was in the hands of Dr. Zelman, an older partisan who had been a famous surgeon before he became a fighter. He removed the bullet, stitched the wound, and pumped Max full of medicines. Through it all, Zena refused to leave her brother's side. Over the next few days, whenever Max woke up, he saw different people staring down at him — men with tangled beards, women with short-cropped hair, all looking at him with caring, worried eyes. And always the face closest to his was Zena's Miraculously, Max was feeling better within a couple of weeks. Soon he and Zena were swept into the bustling life of the camp. His favorite times were sitting around the fire with the

partisans, listening to them talk. Mostly they talked of the rumors about the war: that the Russians had finally chased the Nazis out of their country. Now Russian soldiers were in eastern Poland, pushing the Nazis out. Hitler's troops were on the run. The partisans spoke with cautious hope about the end of the war, about returning home. But Max saw the questions in their eyes: Exactly what was left of their homes… and their families? They were all hoping that Aunt Hannah, Martin, and Lev would return with news. And sure enough, later in the morning, the guard shouted down from his treetop lookout. "They're back!" he called. Max and Zena raced to the edge of the swamp and looked out over the sunken bridge. There was Aunt Hannah, wading through the water, with Martin and Lev right behind her. And there was someone else: a man. At first, Max was sure he was dreaming.