Ben coughed, then said, “I’ll help these people fight.” Before I could respond, he added, “Only me. We have a long night ahead, and no matter how it ends, when news of what’s happened here gets out, the anger against Russia will rise more than ever. Which means the need for book carriers will be greater than ever.”
Lukas and I started to protest, but Ben ignored us as he continued pushing us toward the back of the church. We’d only taken a few steps before the first shots were fired out in the street.
“Was that them or us?” Lukas asked.
&
nbsp; Ben turned back to us, his face grim. “Get inside that coffin and stay there until I come for you, or until it’s been silent for an hour. Hear me?”
“We’re not hiding like cowards while everyone else fights to defend themselves!” I said.
Ben turned on Lukas, his face reddening with anger. “I’ve seen these fights before, Lukas, and I know how they end. Get her to safety, now!”
Lukas nodded and grabbed my arm, even as more shots were fired. I yanked it away and stomped ahead of him toward the back of the church, furious.
“Aren’t you afraid?” he asked. “Why are you in such a rush to join the fight?”
“Of course I’m afraid!” I said. “Just as I’ve been afraid nearly every moment since the day my parents were taken away. But every day, I tell myself to push through my fear, because if I do, maybe I will finally carry the book that brings them home, and it never does, never. Book smuggling isn’t enough, Lukas—isn’t that obvious? At some point, we’ve got to stand on our feet and face the Cossacks and force the Russian Empire out of our land! What if tonight is the night we could have made a difference, the night I could have brought my parents home, but it doesn’t happen because I’m hiding inside a coffin instead?” I hesitated as we heard more shots firing above and a loud crash directly overhead, as if the soldiers had already broken into the church. Lowering my voice, I said, “We can help these people. It’s the right thing to do and you know it.”
Lukas sighed as if he knew he’d lost the argument. “I should have made you stay with Milda, and then I should have stayed too. So what do we do?”
My eyes were on the door that someone had left slightly ajar. Through it, I couldn’t see any soldiers, nor were any shots coming from back here. I suspected when the fighting began, anyone who was here joined the others at the front of the church.
I said, “Let’s get outside and find a place to see for ourselves what’s happening. If there’s a way to help, we’ll do it. If not, I promise, I’ll leave with you and escape into the forest.”
Lukas nodded. “That’s fair enough.” He took a deep breath, gripped the handle of the door, then said, “I told you once that if you began to work with us, there’d be no going back. I wish you hadn’t taken me so seriously.”
I put a hand on his back and pressed him forward, then with a sigh added, “I wish that too.”
As we had hoped, the back of the church was abandoned, and my first thought was to tell the people inside that we had a way out. But before that thought was even finished, Lukas grabbed my arm and yanked me to the ground, just in time, as the soldiers who’d been here returned, grumbling about being assigned watch duty when the real action would happen up front.
For now there was no more shooting, so I hoped what I’d heard earlier were only warning shots intended to scatter the men with pitchforks. Though if those were warnings, I doubted that anyone had left. The men weren’t only protecting their church now, they were also protecting their loved ones inside.
Their actions were noble and brave … and probably would end in tragedy. And now I had dragged Lukas into the midst of this too. I wished none of us had to be here, but we were. The air felt thick and seemed dark, as if death hovered nearby, waiting for his opportunity to collect more than his share for the day.
Lukas began crawling on his hands and knees away from the soldiers who were still talking about how they would handle this situation if they were in charge. Grateful for the noise they were making among themselves, I followed Lukas until we were far enough away that we could hide in a patch of trees and hope to figure out a way to help.
“If we could draw the soldiers away,” I said, “even for a few minutes, we could get the people out.”
“Too late,” Lukas said, as the instant I’d finished speaking, the front church doors burst open and the people spilled out onto the church lawn, ready to fight.
“They have no weapons,” I whispered to Lukas. “They have no chance here.”
“Then let’s help them escape.” Lukas darted forward, silently grabbing the arm of a girl near our age and pulling her toward me. I was directly behind him and took her hand, then motioned to her that we would be crouching low to the ground. She nodded and followed my lead, and I pointed out the patch of trees behind the church where I wanted her to go. The most dangerous part would be the low brick wall that surrounded the church. Her only choice was to slip over it. I hoped she was fast, and even then, I hoped she’d be lucky.
Others around us weren’t so lucky. A man running right in front of Lukas was caught with a bullet. A fraction of a second’s difference, and it would have been Lukas instead. But he had been encouraging people to get to the ground as well, and directing them in the same way I was.
I turned again to find Lukas, but whatever he had been doing a moment ago, now he was completely still. He was facing me, but staring at something, or someone, directly behind me, his eyes betraying the kind of horror that told me I was in terrible trouble. At first I didn’t understand why. Not until Lukas said, “Spare her, Father. Let her go.”
“It was never about her. I came to find you.” I recognized the voice and closed my eyes, not daring to turn around, nor did I need to. Officer Rusakov was behind me. Lukas’s father.
“Do you intend to arrest me?” Lukas stepped closer. “You should. I am a book smuggler, Father. Everything you worked to stop was everything I fought to achieve. I’m still fighting for it.”
I shook my head. “Lukas, stop. He—”
“Lukas?” Now Rusakov crossed to where I could see him. He was still in his uniform, but it had been stripped of the decoration he’d worn every other time our paths had crossed. I got the feeling he had come here as a father, not as a soldier. “Lukas is your name now?”
It hadn’t occurred to me that Lukas must have had a Russian name before this, but of course he had, and he would have changed it to keep people from knowing his background. That must have been part of the reason why Rusakov had wanted my help.