Chapter Nineteen - Accepting Defeat
‘Paul, wake up!’ Katka said, tugging violently at his arm.
He mumbled something in reply, but didn’t open his eyes. Instead he just turned away from her, still sleeping.
‘Paul, they’ve found us, they’re coming!’ Katka said and she made no attempt to keep the panic from her voice. It was impossible. When she had woken, only minutes earlier, she had gone outside and seen German soldiers. It had been enough to stop Katka from breathing. to make each breath catch in her throat and her next words came sputtering, choking from her mouth, ‘Paul, they’re coming. The soldiers are coming, Jan and Rudi have already gone. Now come on, we need to get out of here!’
But Paul only stirred slightly. He opened his eyes and blinked at the light that was coming through the hut door. ‘What do you mean, they’ve left us?’ he asked sleepily, and the frustration that he could be so slow, the stupidness of his question, suddenly enraged Katka. She was unable to stop herself, she slapped him hard across the cheek. ‘Yes, Paul!’ she shouted, ‘They’ve already gone, they’ve left us and now the Germans are here! Now come on, we have to go!’
The slap was enough to bring Paul to his senses. He scrambled from the spot where he had been sleeping and ran to the door, suddenly alert, and like a guard dog he peered out. ‘Where are they?’ he asked, screwing up his face in an attempt to see better through the crack in the door.
Katka pushed him aside and looked out, scanning the green gloom as it spread out about the hut. The soldiers had been at most a hundred metres away, approaching slowly with rifles in their hands, she had seen them as clear as day before, but now they weren’t there. The forest was empty, completely void of human life. And quiet too, quiet but for the sound of birds singing, the rustle of leaves as the wind toyed through the perfect green foliage above.
‘What soldiers?’ Paul said, turning to Katka and smiling.
‘But -’ Katka began. Suddenly she had nothing to say, there was no way of proving what she had seen. Am I losing my mind, am I going ad? She asked herself, ‘But, they can't have -’ She looked again, searched desperately for a glimpse of grey amongst the greens and browns of the forest. But there was nothing there, no soldiers at all.
Paul laughed. He pushed open the hut door and stepped outside. ‘Soldiers?’ he said again, and the mocking tone in his voice at once sent a prickle of humiliation along Katka's spine, she felt her cheeks begin to colour.
‘I know what I saw, Paul. I -’
Suddenly something zipped through the air between them. Too fast to be seen, but they both knew at once what it was. Yet still they turned, just in time to see the distinct flash of gun muzzle, followed by another slicing of air, closer this time.
‘Get down!’ Paul shouted.
But Katka had already dropped to the floor. 'Come on!' she shouted and she scrambled for the tree line. Paul followed, and as soon as they had made it out of the clearing they broke into a run.
Hard, fast.
They pounded headlong into the forest. Whipped by branches, thorns that snagged at their clothes and cut skin. But they were too pumped with adrenaline too feel pain, and with hot fear pulsing like nitrogen through their veins they ran.
‘Quick, down here.’ Katka said, when she thought they had run far enough to be out of range. And she led Paul beneath a fallen limb of a broken tree, its roots sticking up from the ground like a huge earthen shield, beneath it was a crater large enough for them both to scramble into, ‘We’re sheltered here, for the moment at least.’ and before Paul could say anything in reply, Katka jammed her palm across his mouth, ‘Quiet, just listen!’ she commanded.
Paul looked at her. He nodded. He was accepting her lead now, letting her take control. The last bullet had nearly hit him, he must have felt the air strike his face like a wave and now the fear showed in his eyes, big and white, unable to blink.
‘Listen.’ Katka said. She strained her ear to hear past the sound of the trees, the slight wind.
‘Can you hear them?’ Paul asked.
Katka shook her head. There was nothing, no thud of boots, nor trample of grown men struggling through the undergrowth in pursuit.
‘We've lost them’ Paul said.
Katka let out the air from her lungs, she almost smiled. ‘It’s OK.’ she said, ‘they couldn’t keep up, we’re safe.’
Paul let out a relieved laugh. He looked at Katka and for a second she thought he was about to say sorry, to say that she was right and that he should have listened to her. But it was just a laugh, he shook his head, smiled. It was enough to make Katka laugh too.
‘I’m an idiot.’ Paul said, ‘I nearly got us killed.’
‘You should have listened to me.’ Katka said.
Paul rubbed his eyes, squeezed them shut, but he didn’t respond. Instead he looked at the ground and said nothing, concentrated instead on regaining his breath until eventually his smiled faded And for a long minute they sat then, side by side with bowed heads and empty hands resting on the dirt of the forest floor.
It was Katka who broke the silence. ‘What about Jan and Paul?’ she said.
Paul looked up. There hadn't been time to think about them until now. 'I don't know, I -' he said.
‘They weren’t there when I woke up this morning, it’s why I went outside. I was looking for them. All their things are gone.’
‘They've left us.' Paul said.
'What shall we do?' Katka asked. But it wasn't a real question, she was just thinking aloud, and her fear must have sounded in her voice because they were all alone now, they had no food, no shelter. They had even left their guns in the cabin and there was no going back.
'It doesn’t matter.’ Paul said, and he reached forward with his hand, as if he wanted to touch her face, to comfort her.
‘But -’ Katka began, pushing his hand away.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Paul repeated.
'What do you mean it doesn't matter, what about our stuff, what about -'
‘It’s because it’s almost over.’ Paul said interrupted.
‘What?’
‘Don’t you see?’ he went on, ‘They’ve left us here because it’s over, because the war is almost done and really this is -’ he paused, seemed momentarily stuck for words and he needed to look glancingly across his shoulder, as if for inspiration, for an idea that was alluding him, hiding just behind him in the tangle of limbs that made up the upturned tree roots.
‘What are you talking about, Paul?’
‘This is the best place. Don’t you see? This is the safest place, away from the cities and towns and the roads where the tanks and trucks will be moving up and down and the soldiers will be. I mean, God -’ he paused again, smacked his lips and coughed clear his throat, We could be caught up in a battle if we stayed out there, we could be arrested by the army or bombed by the British airplanes.’
‘No.’ Katka said, ‘It’s not over,’ and she stood up, a sudden jolt of energy, a sudden annoyance, ‘And I wish people would stop saying that it’s nearly over. Can’t you see it's not over, can’t you see by the fact that we’ve just been chased through the wood by soldiers with guns?’ She paused, lost for words, annoyed by the stupidity of what Paul had just said, and before he could say anything in reply she added, ‘How can it be over after what we did yesterday afternoon?’
‘But this is -’ Paul began, but Katka wasn’t interested in whatever he was about to say, ‘We killed people, Paul. Not just soldiers, but normal people too. We -’ she thought for a moment, ‘we became part of something yesterday, we crossed a line, we can’t say it’s over now, not now, not ever. It’s, it’s -’ but words escaped her.
There are no words for what she wanted to say. It was the evil of war that she was referring to. It was the unforgivable nature of it. But how do i put this into words, she thought? Until now they had merely been survivors, making best of the situation they had been born into - Prague, the streets - but things were different now, they had taken sides and it made no difference whether it was the right side or the wrong side, as far as Katka was concerned there was no such thing, because when war was concerned there was only one side and that was the wrong side. But she didn’t say any of this, she didn’t know how.
And then Paul said, ‘But this is war, Katka. Nothing more, this is just the way it is.’.
Katka shook her head.
And so he said the words again, speaking with more emphasis this time, and louder, ‘There’s nothing we can do and there’s no point beating yourself up because of the fact. We have been caught up in a war and now we have to survive, just like we did in Prague.’
Katka shook her head again, she let out a breath. It was pointless talking to Paul, he didn't understand. So instead she said, ‘You know my father is dead, don’t you?’
‘I know.’ Paul replied, ‘I heard you and Jan talking last night.’
A long moment passed then. No words - there was nothing more to say - no noise except the rustle of wind through the trees, the sound of water running along a stream somewhere nearby, the chatter of a bird above.
And then Katka said to herself, I would have thought there was something I would feel, that there would be words that one of us could say, that there would be some purpose now, now that we’ve reached the climax of our journey. But instead she just looked at the ground between her and Paul and said nothing. It was as if a spell had been caste, a little magic in the air that fluttered down from above, sprinkled the air with sadness, with an empty feeling, an overwhelming thought that there was absolutley no point, no purpose anymore to any of this.
Suddenly Paul looked at Katka, ‘What was that ?’ he said.
Katka listened. She could hear nothing. ‘What -?’
‘Shhh.’ Paul signalled for her to be quiet.
Nothing then. And for long enough for them to both think they had imagined the sound, but then it came again, and louder this time, as sharp as gun-shot, but deadlier still.
‘Dogs!’ Katka exclaimed.
‘They must have caught our scent.’ Paul said, his words coming in a rush, interrupted by his effort to get up onto his feet and almost at once they were running again.
But it was no use, within seconds the dogs were on them. There were three of them, brown and black, white flashing teeth. And snap-snap-snap, it was impossible to get away, impossible against the bounding motion of their blurred limbs as they vaulted their way across the foliage.
Paul let out a cry as one of them took hold of him by the arm. It spun him in the air before sending him crashing downwards. Another then had Katka by the back of the neck. It’s teeth ripping into her skin like the serrated edge of a saw. The pain was immeasurable. But somehow she managed to stay upright, lurching further until the dog let go and writhed momentarily on the ground at her feet.
Katka saw her chance. In the half-second it took for the dog to right itself, to lunge forward in a second attack, Katka was able to get hold of a broken branch from a tree and she wasted no time in putting it to use. She swung at the dog as it leapt at her, open mouthed and snapping with teeth red with blood. The branch caught it in the side of the face, sending it sprawling and whimpering to the forest floor.
In the same moment, Paul called out in pain. A desperate, pain-filled throttle to his voice, ‘Help, Katka!’
‘Hold on!’ she shouted in reply and turned just in time to see the third dog was joining the attack and snapping at Paul’s face. He was struggling to hold it off with his arm. He was struggling and losing.
Katka swung with the branch and knocked it backwards, sending it cartwheeling through the air. Then she swung at the second dog, but missed, and to her horror she saw it crouch down on its hind legs, readying itself to attack again. It was quick, lithe, and before she could bring the branch back to swing again it leapt up at her, knocking her backwards with the full force of its weight piling her into the ground, the dog on top of her.
It’s over, she thought. And she felt the rip of the dog’s teeth, even before they made contact with her skin, as she felt it tear at the tendons of her neck, sending the blood pouring, unstoppably, irrepariably, across her chest, onto the forest floor, she went limp. She readied herself, to give up, to close her eyes, to die.
But somehow it didn’t happen like that. Suddenly the dog was gone, Katka felt the immediate release of its weight, and then Paul had her by the hand, she was on her feet and he was pulling her through the forest once more. Leading her with a strength she did not know he had.
‘Come on!’ He shouted and with all the energy they could muster, together they were running again, crashing through the undergrowth with the sound of barking and shouts of soldiers behind them.
Katka tensed in anticipation of a fresh attack. She clenched her fists, gritted her teeth. But it was a different danger that attacked them next.
Paul was the first to notice. He let out a cry as his feet were suddenly taken from beneath him. Katka followed, she felt herself being flung downwards as together they ran at full speed over the edge of a cliff.
Together they dropped, rapidly, uncontrollably towards a fast flowing river beneath them. It happened so fast there wasn’t even time to cry out, and hitting the water was like hitting hardened cement. Only worse, ice cold and with a shock like electricity on the skin. They were at once pulled under its white surface and dragged along by an insatiable current. It was black and dark, impossible to tell which way was up or down. The current flung them hither and thither, like a child playing with a toy, against underwater boulders and raking their skin with the sharp stones of the river floor. Until suddenly it became bored and, without warning it threw Katka to the surface.
‘Paul!’ she shouted the moment she surfaced and gulping for air like a beached fish.
Paul was already there, next to her, and he was just able to reach out and get hold of her arm. He pulled himself close and together they clung on, holding tight and using their combined mass to keep afloat and to push themselves off from the rocks and low branches that obstructed the surface of the water.
Eventually the river widened, the current slowed and they were able to release their tight grip of each other and they swam to the shore, where they pulled themselves from the water and like drowned rats stepped up onto the river bank.
He mumbled something in reply, but didn’t open his eyes. Instead he just turned away from her, still sleeping.
‘Paul, they’ve found us, they’re coming!’ Katka said and she made no attempt to keep the panic from her voice. It was impossible. When she had woken, only minutes earlier, she had gone outside and seen German soldiers. It had been enough to stop Katka from breathing. to make each breath catch in her throat and her next words came sputtering, choking from her mouth, ‘Paul, they’re coming. The soldiers are coming, Jan and Rudi have already gone. Now come on, we need to get out of here!’
But Paul only stirred slightly. He opened his eyes and blinked at the light that was coming through the hut door. ‘What do you mean, they’ve left us?’ he asked sleepily, and the frustration that he could be so slow, the stupidness of his question, suddenly enraged Katka. She was unable to stop herself, she slapped him hard across the cheek. ‘Yes, Paul!’ she shouted, ‘They’ve already gone, they’ve left us and now the Germans are here! Now come on, we have to go!’
The slap was enough to bring Paul to his senses. He scrambled from the spot where he had been sleeping and ran to the door, suddenly alert, and like a guard dog he peered out. ‘Where are they?’ he asked, screwing up his face in an attempt to see better through the crack in the door.
Katka pushed him aside and looked out, scanning the green gloom as it spread out about the hut. The soldiers had been at most a hundred metres away, approaching slowly with rifles in their hands, she had seen them as clear as day before, but now they weren’t there. The forest was empty, completely void of human life. And quiet too, quiet but for the sound of birds singing, the rustle of leaves as the wind toyed through the perfect green foliage above.
‘What soldiers?’ Paul said, turning to Katka and smiling.
‘But -’ Katka began. Suddenly she had nothing to say, there was no way of proving what she had seen. Am I losing my mind, am I going ad? She asked herself, ‘But, they can't have -’ She looked again, searched desperately for a glimpse of grey amongst the greens and browns of the forest. But there was nothing there, no soldiers at all.
Paul laughed. He pushed open the hut door and stepped outside. ‘Soldiers?’ he said again, and the mocking tone in his voice at once sent a prickle of humiliation along Katka's spine, she felt her cheeks begin to colour.
‘I know what I saw, Paul. I -’
Suddenly something zipped through the air between them. Too fast to be seen, but they both knew at once what it was. Yet still they turned, just in time to see the distinct flash of gun muzzle, followed by another slicing of air, closer this time.
‘Get down!’ Paul shouted.
But Katka had already dropped to the floor. 'Come on!' she shouted and she scrambled for the tree line. Paul followed, and as soon as they had made it out of the clearing they broke into a run.
Hard, fast.
They pounded headlong into the forest. Whipped by branches, thorns that snagged at their clothes and cut skin. But they were too pumped with adrenaline too feel pain, and with hot fear pulsing like nitrogen through their veins they ran.
‘Quick, down here.’ Katka said, when she thought they had run far enough to be out of range. And she led Paul beneath a fallen limb of a broken tree, its roots sticking up from the ground like a huge earthen shield, beneath it was a crater large enough for them both to scramble into, ‘We’re sheltered here, for the moment at least.’ and before Paul could say anything in reply, Katka jammed her palm across his mouth, ‘Quiet, just listen!’ she commanded.
Paul looked at her. He nodded. He was accepting her lead now, letting her take control. The last bullet had nearly hit him, he must have felt the air strike his face like a wave and now the fear showed in his eyes, big and white, unable to blink.
‘Listen.’ Katka said. She strained her ear to hear past the sound of the trees, the slight wind.
‘Can you hear them?’ Paul asked.
Katka shook her head. There was nothing, no thud of boots, nor trample of grown men struggling through the undergrowth in pursuit.
‘We've lost them’ Paul said.
Katka let out the air from her lungs, she almost smiled. ‘It’s OK.’ she said, ‘they couldn’t keep up, we’re safe.’
Paul let out a relieved laugh. He looked at Katka and for a second she thought he was about to say sorry, to say that she was right and that he should have listened to her. But it was just a laugh, he shook his head, smiled. It was enough to make Katka laugh too.
‘I’m an idiot.’ Paul said, ‘I nearly got us killed.’
‘You should have listened to me.’ Katka said.
Paul rubbed his eyes, squeezed them shut, but he didn’t respond. Instead he looked at the ground and said nothing, concentrated instead on regaining his breath until eventually his smiled faded And for a long minute they sat then, side by side with bowed heads and empty hands resting on the dirt of the forest floor.
It was Katka who broke the silence. ‘What about Jan and Paul?’ she said.
Paul looked up. There hadn't been time to think about them until now. 'I don't know, I -' he said.
‘They weren’t there when I woke up this morning, it’s why I went outside. I was looking for them. All their things are gone.’
‘They've left us.' Paul said.
'What shall we do?' Katka asked. But it wasn't a real question, she was just thinking aloud, and her fear must have sounded in her voice because they were all alone now, they had no food, no shelter. They had even left their guns in the cabin and there was no going back.
'It doesn’t matter.’ Paul said, and he reached forward with his hand, as if he wanted to touch her face, to comfort her.
‘But -’ Katka began, pushing his hand away.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Paul repeated.
'What do you mean it doesn't matter, what about our stuff, what about -'
‘It’s because it’s almost over.’ Paul said interrupted.
‘What?’
‘Don’t you see?’ he went on, ‘They’ve left us here because it’s over, because the war is almost done and really this is -’ he paused, seemed momentarily stuck for words and he needed to look glancingly across his shoulder, as if for inspiration, for an idea that was alluding him, hiding just behind him in the tangle of limbs that made up the upturned tree roots.
‘What are you talking about, Paul?’
‘This is the best place. Don’t you see? This is the safest place, away from the cities and towns and the roads where the tanks and trucks will be moving up and down and the soldiers will be. I mean, God -’ he paused again, smacked his lips and coughed clear his throat, We could be caught up in a battle if we stayed out there, we could be arrested by the army or bombed by the British airplanes.’
‘No.’ Katka said, ‘It’s not over,’ and she stood up, a sudden jolt of energy, a sudden annoyance, ‘And I wish people would stop saying that it’s nearly over. Can’t you see it's not over, can’t you see by the fact that we’ve just been chased through the wood by soldiers with guns?’ She paused, lost for words, annoyed by the stupidity of what Paul had just said, and before he could say anything in reply she added, ‘How can it be over after what we did yesterday afternoon?’
‘But this is -’ Paul began, but Katka wasn’t interested in whatever he was about to say, ‘We killed people, Paul. Not just soldiers, but normal people too. We -’ she thought for a moment, ‘we became part of something yesterday, we crossed a line, we can’t say it’s over now, not now, not ever. It’s, it’s -’ but words escaped her.
There are no words for what she wanted to say. It was the evil of war that she was referring to. It was the unforgivable nature of it. But how do i put this into words, she thought? Until now they had merely been survivors, making best of the situation they had been born into - Prague, the streets - but things were different now, they had taken sides and it made no difference whether it was the right side or the wrong side, as far as Katka was concerned there was no such thing, because when war was concerned there was only one side and that was the wrong side. But she didn’t say any of this, she didn’t know how.
And then Paul said, ‘But this is war, Katka. Nothing more, this is just the way it is.’.
Katka shook her head.
And so he said the words again, speaking with more emphasis this time, and louder, ‘There’s nothing we can do and there’s no point beating yourself up because of the fact. We have been caught up in a war and now we have to survive, just like we did in Prague.’
Katka shook her head again, she let out a breath. It was pointless talking to Paul, he didn't understand. So instead she said, ‘You know my father is dead, don’t you?’
‘I know.’ Paul replied, ‘I heard you and Jan talking last night.’
A long moment passed then. No words - there was nothing more to say - no noise except the rustle of wind through the trees, the sound of water running along a stream somewhere nearby, the chatter of a bird above.
And then Katka said to herself, I would have thought there was something I would feel, that there would be words that one of us could say, that there would be some purpose now, now that we’ve reached the climax of our journey. But instead she just looked at the ground between her and Paul and said nothing. It was as if a spell had been caste, a little magic in the air that fluttered down from above, sprinkled the air with sadness, with an empty feeling, an overwhelming thought that there was absolutley no point, no purpose anymore to any of this.
Suddenly Paul looked at Katka, ‘What was that ?’ he said.
Katka listened. She could hear nothing. ‘What -?’
‘Shhh.’ Paul signalled for her to be quiet.
Nothing then. And for long enough for them to both think they had imagined the sound, but then it came again, and louder this time, as sharp as gun-shot, but deadlier still.
‘Dogs!’ Katka exclaimed.
‘They must have caught our scent.’ Paul said, his words coming in a rush, interrupted by his effort to get up onto his feet and almost at once they were running again.
But it was no use, within seconds the dogs were on them. There were three of them, brown and black, white flashing teeth. And snap-snap-snap, it was impossible to get away, impossible against the bounding motion of their blurred limbs as they vaulted their way across the foliage.
Paul let out a cry as one of them took hold of him by the arm. It spun him in the air before sending him crashing downwards. Another then had Katka by the back of the neck. It’s teeth ripping into her skin like the serrated edge of a saw. The pain was immeasurable. But somehow she managed to stay upright, lurching further until the dog let go and writhed momentarily on the ground at her feet.
Katka saw her chance. In the half-second it took for the dog to right itself, to lunge forward in a second attack, Katka was able to get hold of a broken branch from a tree and she wasted no time in putting it to use. She swung at the dog as it leapt at her, open mouthed and snapping with teeth red with blood. The branch caught it in the side of the face, sending it sprawling and whimpering to the forest floor.
In the same moment, Paul called out in pain. A desperate, pain-filled throttle to his voice, ‘Help, Katka!’
‘Hold on!’ she shouted in reply and turned just in time to see the third dog was joining the attack and snapping at Paul’s face. He was struggling to hold it off with his arm. He was struggling and losing.
Katka swung with the branch and knocked it backwards, sending it cartwheeling through the air. Then she swung at the second dog, but missed, and to her horror she saw it crouch down on its hind legs, readying itself to attack again. It was quick, lithe, and before she could bring the branch back to swing again it leapt up at her, knocking her backwards with the full force of its weight piling her into the ground, the dog on top of her.
It’s over, she thought. And she felt the rip of the dog’s teeth, even before they made contact with her skin, as she felt it tear at the tendons of her neck, sending the blood pouring, unstoppably, irrepariably, across her chest, onto the forest floor, she went limp. She readied herself, to give up, to close her eyes, to die.
But somehow it didn’t happen like that. Suddenly the dog was gone, Katka felt the immediate release of its weight, and then Paul had her by the hand, she was on her feet and he was pulling her through the forest once more. Leading her with a strength she did not know he had.
‘Come on!’ He shouted and with all the energy they could muster, together they were running again, crashing through the undergrowth with the sound of barking and shouts of soldiers behind them.
Katka tensed in anticipation of a fresh attack. She clenched her fists, gritted her teeth. But it was a different danger that attacked them next.
Paul was the first to notice. He let out a cry as his feet were suddenly taken from beneath him. Katka followed, she felt herself being flung downwards as together they ran at full speed over the edge of a cliff.
Together they dropped, rapidly, uncontrollably towards a fast flowing river beneath them. It happened so fast there wasn’t even time to cry out, and hitting the water was like hitting hardened cement. Only worse, ice cold and with a shock like electricity on the skin. They were at once pulled under its white surface and dragged along by an insatiable current. It was black and dark, impossible to tell which way was up or down. The current flung them hither and thither, like a child playing with a toy, against underwater boulders and raking their skin with the sharp stones of the river floor. Until suddenly it became bored and, without warning it threw Katka to the surface.
‘Paul!’ she shouted the moment she surfaced and gulping for air like a beached fish.
Paul was already there, next to her, and he was just able to reach out and get hold of her arm. He pulled himself close and together they clung on, holding tight and using their combined mass to keep afloat and to push themselves off from the rocks and low branches that obstructed the surface of the water.
Eventually the river widened, the current slowed and they were able to release their tight grip of each other and they swam to the shore, where they pulled themselves from the water and like drowned rats stepped up onto the river bank.