“It’s all right. We’ll walk like we did before.” He turned to her and gently touched her hand on the gear shift. “It’ll all work out.”
Ruth squeezed his fingers and nodded, despite a deep regret that gnawed at her gut. She felt his touch slip away, and she turned the wheel to weave around a gaunt-faced man who’d stopped to fix the chain on a bicycle.
They drove for an hour through the rural countryside and, along the way, Ruth picked up three elderly women pedestrians, a man walking with a cane, a young mother pushing a toddler in a stroller, and a teenage boy who was carrying a small black bulldog with pointed, batlike ears. Kilometer by kilometer, Ruth maneuvered the vehicle southward, all the while stopping to pick up people whom she thought could use a break from walking. Soon, the back of the truck was at capacity, and she had to turn away people who tried to wave her down to hitch a ride. She felt horrible as she drove by, telling them through her open window that there was no more room in her truck.
Nearly seven hours later, the needle on the fuel gauge pointed to empty. A few kilometers farther, the engine began to sputter. She slowly veered through the dense crowd to the side of the road. The motor shuddered and stopped. One by one, the refugees whom Ruth had given a ride climbed out and disappeared into the exodus. The echoes of gunfire had faded, but could still be heard over the shuffling of feet and clopping of hooves.
Ruth approached her group, congregating at the back of the vehicle. “Do we want to walk or search for a place to rest for the night?”
“There is plenty of sunlight left,” Pierre said, “and my legs are fresh.” He placed a hand on his granddaughter’s shoulder. “What do you think, my little cabbage?”
“Let’s walk,” Aline said. “Maybe someone will let us ride in their wagon.”
Lucette and Jimmie nodded.
As the group removed luggage and supplies from the back of the vehicle, Ruth went to the driver’s compartment and checked the odometer. She did the math in her head. Nearly three hundred more kilometers to reach the coast of Brittany. We can do this. She closed the door and joined the others.
For two hours, they slogged over the road, filled with refugees as far as they could see. The temperature was hot, and the late afternoon sun beat down on their heads.
Ruth glanced at Pierre, his head drooped and shoulders slumped, as he shuffled his feet over the road. “How about we stop for water?”
“A drink would be good,” Lucette said.
Pierre nodded.
They made their way to the side of the road and sat at the edge of an overgrown field, covered in tall grass, weeds, and wildflowers. Ruth removed a canteen from her bag and gave it to Aline.
The girl took two gulps and handed the canteen to her grandfather, who drank and passed it along.
While Lucette guzzled water, Pierre removed a medicine bottle from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and plucked out a tiny nitroglycerin pill with his finger.
An uneasiness stirred inside Ruth. We need to slow the pace or find a ride for him on a wagon.
Pierre placed the pill under his tongue. As the medicine dissolved in his mouth, his breathing slowed and tension eased from his face.
“Are you all right, Grandpapa?”
“Oui,” Pierre said.
Jimmie perked his head. He stood and peered up.
“What’s wrong?” Ruth asked.
A thrum grew in the air.
“Stukas!” Jimmie shouted.
Ruth’s heart rate soared. She scrambled to Aline and clasped her hand.
High in the sky, a squadron of Stukas dived toward the ground. The sirens, attached to the aircraft, began to wail.
Screams grew from the crowd. Pedestrians dropped their luggage and ran. People crawled underneath a nearby wagon, while others frantically searched for a place to hide.
“Away from the road!” Jimmie shouted.
Ruth sprinted with Aline across the field. Weeds and high grass lashed at their legs.
“Grandpapa!” Aline cried.
Pierre struggled to keep up. “Go!”
Lucette clasped the old man’s arm and pulled him along, while Jimmie closed in behind them.
The Stuka sirens grew to a horrid howl.
Ruth’s leg muscles burned as she pushed through the overgrown vegetation. Her eyes locked on the tree line of a forest, thirty meters away. It’s too far. She fought back her fear and ran faster.
A roar of engines grew from beyond the forest.
Oh, no! Ruth thought. We’re surrounded.
Planes shot over the trees and machine gun fire erupted.
Ruth pulled Aline to the ground and shielded her with her body.
The Stuka sirens waned.
“They’re ours!” Jimmie shouted.
