Konrad ran along, his left hand clasped tightly in his mother's, his right around a large, plush bear. The crowd around him was in a contained panic. Some families were dressed in their traveling clothes, others looked like they'd just come out wearing just their sleeping gowns. They were all afraid, but whenever he asked a grown-up what was happening, they just laughed and gave some fake story. They were putting on brave faces for the kids, but they weren't very good at it. Konrad hated it when grown-ups lied to him.
He recognized this place- it was the train station. The loud chuffing of the engines was clearly visible over the unnaturally hushed crowd.
"I'm tired mommy."
The woman holding his hand looked down him. She didn't smile a lot, but today she was particularly not-smiley. Her face was a grim mask of concern and fatigue.
"Hold tight dear. Daddy will be back with the tickets soon. Then we're going to visit your Great Auntie Thelma in Berlin."
"If we're visiting, why didn't daddy have tickets earlier?"
"Well, Daddy's..."
Mom trailed. Konrad though he heard a few mumbled words- then her hand abruptly stiffened. The young boy felt a shift in the crowd immediately. A gust of warm air and a flood of light revealed that the train's doors had opened.
"Make Daddy hurry up!"
His mother remained frozen in position, her grip tightening around his wrist. The crowd started pushing onto the train, but mom remained affixed to the ground. Her head jerked back and forth, looking across the crowd, then towards the train, before the indecision broke. Mother and son began pushing backwards, cutting through the human tide.
Konrad was thankful for his mom's presence- Barbar might be there to hug him whenever she wasn't, but the stuffed bear was terrible at making plans. As the human flood lightened ever so slightly, Konrad saw a familiar pair of legs through the crowd.
It was his dad. The man was arguing with two men outside a ticket booth. They had guns, and they were talking in Polish, but with weird accents.
"So you
are Karl Scheper."
"Yes, and I'm just trying to get tickets for my family, so please just let me-"
"We can't let you do that."
One of the men laughed and said something in his other-country talk. It sounded mean.
"The train's filling up God damn it, please just let me get my tickets- oh God, Anna, you're here too. Look, these-"
"Your brother Ernst derailed a train, it says here. Do you know how many Russians' blood you have on your hands?"
Konrad's mind flashed through his memories. Uncle Ernst was dad's younger brother. Great Auntie Thelma always called him a black sheep. Were black sheep bad luck on trains?
"Look, I don't care what my brother did, you've got to-"
One of the bad men shoved Konrad's father against the booth. The ticketeer inside cringed and retreated further out of sight.
"Well we care. Quite a bit. Not you or any of your family is leaving until it's repaid."
"Look, I know what you guys are doing to us! I just want to get my family out of here peacibly, and you can have your God-damned-"
The bad men threw dad against the booth. One held him against the metal grating, the other kicked him and punched him in the face. Mom screamed. Konrad could only stare in horror, clutching his bear and mother as the pair of soldiers attacked his dad, who writhed and struggled to break free.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. The man holding dad fell back, stunned, and then collapsed. Before he had, a second shot rang out, and both of the bad men fell to the ground. Dad's knees buckled, but mom grabbed him before he hit the ground- she was a pretty strong lady. The crowd was suddenly pouring into the train in an even greater panic. A trio of figures pushed their way into the center, and one fired a gunshot into the air, forcing silence once again.
"We're with the Brotherhood. There are no more trains coming. The Russians are coming. Follow us, there are still boats in the harbour."
The crowd began to panic aloud again. The train was already overfilled. One of the Brotherhood men was up at the front, talking to the conductor. One by one, the doors of the train closed. Konrad and his parents were not on board, along with several hundred others.
"Russians? Why are they coming? Dad?"
Dad was slowly recovering, but did not respond, and the man with the gun came to his side.
"Are you alright sir?"
Dad nodded. His glasses, which always sat so professorially on his beaky nose, were broken.
"Your brother destroyed a Russian train?"
Dad looked at the man, dumbfounded for a moment.
"I don't talk to him... Ernst is a fanatic."
The man frowned slightly. "Your brother is a hero."
With that said, he turned away and addressed the crowd in a booming voice.
"Everyone, you may call me Adler, these are my comrades, Faust and Feuer. There are no more trains coming, Russians have locked down the roundhouse. We're going to get you out to the harbour, there are still foreign ships there who can get you out of the country."
"And what if we don't want to follow a bunch of gun-toting loons?" catcalled a voice in the crowd.
"Yeah! The ones who got us into this mess in the first place!"
Adler's face flashed into brief snarl, before he composed himself and responded.
"Stay here and you can deal with another set of gun-toting loons, ones who're not sad to see even more Prussian blood get spilled tonight. Now follow me, or a missed train will be the least of your worries."
The locomotive's doors were now all closed, and the great engine began to pull away. With his weapon drawn, Adler began to walk swiftly away from the station. The crowd began to follow him, as the other two men from the German Brotherhood followed up in the rear.
Dad walked along, half-staggering but maintaining his pace. Mom braced him, one arm providing support and the other squeezing almost painfully against Konrad's wrist. Konrad did the same to Barbar, who did not complain, as the fleeing procession moved out into the moonlit streets of Danzig.
*****
Witaly shifted uncomfortably under his blanket, rousing out of a light sleep. Instinctively, his hand grasped out, and was reassured by the warm presence of his sister. The eight year old squinted into the darkness... the noises were louder tonight. He heard shouts, sounds of human movement... and gunshots.
That was trouble. The young Pole pulled himself up into a sitting position, and shivered deeply. His bag of food was almost empty, and now that the Russians had taken away the friendly baker who gave them the old bread, he didn't know how he'd be able to fill it. Maybe by stealing?
Witaly didn't like stealing. His parents had always said it was wrong. But then again, they were dead now, so they couldn't tell him what to do. Witaly tried to laugh a little bit, but had to wrestle back the urge to cry instead. He wouldn't show weakness.
The sounds were getting louder. Witaly turned and shook the figure beside him sleepily.
"Irena!"
His sister shifted sleepily, and started crying gently as she woke up. Witaly patted his twin on the back and tenderly kissed her forehead.
"It's gonna be okay, but we have to move. Someone's coming."
"Is it the Russians?"
"If it's them, I'll beat them up until I make them bring our parents back!" Witaly put on a brave, devil-may-care grin and pulled out his weapon- the cut-off end of an old broom handle- and brandished it. Irena smiled weakly and giggled, and Witaly contented himself with the knowledge that he had kept her spirits up.
The siblings got up. The brother rolled up the blanket and placed it into a satchel, while the sister hungrily dug in to a bit of the bread. The sounds were very close now.
"Follow me."
Witaly pulled the food bag away from his sister, and then crept along the alley, looking out into the street. Running along the empty sidewalk, Witaly spotted a good hiding place, and crouched behind a large pile of disassembled barrels, his sister settling down beside him. From this vantage point, Witaly could see one of the piers well- three ships were moored. Making a gun with his hand, the young boy pointed at each of them, pulling an invisible trigger with a whispered' bang'. Irena giggled again, as the two huddled down, keen to avoid whatever was about to unfold that night.
*****
Matthias Renke huffed along the street, two large duffel bags hanging over each shoulder. His girlfriend, Christina, kept close by his side, carrying a slightly smaller assortment of bags herself.
"So you're really going through with this."
Matthias stopped and looked to his side. After a brief pause, he responded.
"Yeah."
With that, he resumed walking. Christina caught up in a few strides.
"Really then? This isn't some sort of trick to get me out here so you could propose?"
Matthias looked uncomfortable for a moment, then looked down and resumed walking.
"No trick. We've talked about this for a while, we're just speeding up the schedule."
"Matti! You're not this kind of impulsive person- I can't just-"
"Stina. I've gotten the tickets to my family. They should have left for Pomerania this morning. You don't have any family in the country. I've resigned from my job. I've gotten our ship written down right here. This is anything but impulsive."
Christina fell silent as she looked at the scrawled piece of paper.
"I just can't believe it. I can't believe this is happening so fast..."
"Hans hasn't been wrong before. Something bad's coming down tonight. We're getting out of the country, simple as that. We take the
Storaskog to New Stockholm, convert our money in a bank, rent an apartment and I find work in a shop, just like before."
"This Hans again?"
"Look, he
knows things. I've got no reason not to trust him, and neither do-"
A small figure jumped in front of the pair, a short staff in its hands.
"Are you Russians?!" he shouted in Polish.
"What?" responded Matthias in the same language, "No! Who are you?"
"Oh, Matti, he's just a child."
"I'm not a child! I'm Witaly Wisniewski, and I am the head of my household!"
Matthias slipped a sideways look at Christina, then looked back to the not-child.
"What happened to your parents then?"
"They died! The soldiers shot them both, but I bet they killed about 20 when they went down!"
"Look, kid, the Russians are about to drop a hammer on Danzig if we don't get out of here quickly, so please get out of our way."
"Matti, we can't just leave them here, they're orphans-"
"Yes we can, we can just- oh God, you're not."
Christina wasn't listening as she approached the child.
"Okay Witaly, there's a boat just ahead that we're heading too. We're in a lot of trouble if the Russians catch us, and you probably are too if they... did that to your parents."
"You're not doing this..." moaned Matthias in the background.
"So I think you should come along with us."
Witaly squinted thoughtfully at the prospect.
"Where's the boat go?"
"Across the ocean and away from here."
"Do they have food on the boat?"
"Umm... they should."
Vitaly ran off and shouted around the corner.
"Irena! Get up, we're getting out of here."
A little girl emerged from behind the corner, running to join beside her brother. Vitaly stepped forward towards the couple.
"Alright, we'll go along with you."
Matthias looked about to say something to Christina, but thought better of it and slumped over.
"Alright then, the
Storaskog's one of the ships right ahead. Let's get going."
"Ooh, that one?" asked Vitaly, pointing intently.
"Oh yes, sure, I think that's it." responded Matthias, his eyes firmly focused elsewhere.
The group of four moved at a swift pace across the empty streets, towards the pier.
*****
Three ships were berthed, Konrad counted- the
Excelsior,
Polaris and
Storaskog.
A large crowd was assembling below them.
"Will we be able to get on?" asked Mom, concern still evident in her voice.
Adler looked up and chewed his lip "There's lots of space on these vessels, they can probably take a thousand each. This will be
Storaskog's second or third time back, not so sure about the others. How's your husband holding up?"
Konrad ignored the conversation up above, hugging his stuffed bear closely. Further up the line, a family of four seemed to be arguing about carrying too many bags. Konrad wished he could have brought more.
The night pushed on. Konrad was more tired than he'd ever been before. It felt like he'd first woken up on this day an eternity ago. The lineup pushed ever onwards, and the crowd began to grow restless. Adler and Faust left several times to go talk to the man watching the front of the line, who seemed to speak German with a funny Swedish accent.
"They're not loading fast enough." muttered Adler, as he returned from the front of the line once more. Mom nodded with appreciative concern. Konrad simply stared at the gangplank, drawing slowly closer in front of him. Out of the side of his eye, he caught some movement. Turning suddenly and squinting, he saw a column of marching soldiers just the second that another man shouted.
"Russians!"
Adler stiffened, immediately scanning the area to determine the situation. The crowd rustled fearfully as the soldiers approached. The man checking people at the front of the line was now ushering them on, much more rapidly than before. Konrad looked back to the boat, noticing that smoke was already rising out of its two funnels.
"Attention civilians!" shouted the leader of the soldiers, in heavily-accented and slightly broken German, "We know you have partisans and partisan relatives in here. Don't stop us in search and detaining."
The crowd was now beginning to panic, flooding towards the boat. Some people were getting pushed dangerously close to the edge of the pier, and the man watching the gangplank had given up entirely on recording the names of all aboard, simply allowing the human flood to push its way onboard.
Konrad looked around him. The men from the Brotherhood seemed to have melted away into the crowd. The ships was so close now!
A cold hand descended on his shoulder. Konrad spun around to see a uniformed man, and his mom shoving the hand away from him. The soldier shouted something. Konrad held tightly onto Barbar while his mother shielded him. His father stood up, pushing the soldier away from his wife and son. The crowd pressed on with greater pressure. Handhold broke as mother and son were pushed up onto the boat, while more of the soldiers began to pull his father away. A scream broke out in the cloud as gunfire opened elsewhere. Konrad screamed for his father as the figure disappeared behind a wall of moving bodies. Mom screamed at the same. The
Storaskog's horn wailed a dull, mournful tone.
The moon shone on, undisturbed. The night advanced, the gunfire came to an end. The Vinlandic freighter-turned-human transporter completed its loading and departed before sunrise. Karl Scheper did not board the ship.
