the daylight. Too many people could see us and kill us from a long way off."
One German sniper or one scout plane was all it would take, and none of them would have a chance, not without a place to hide or take cover.
They made themselves as comfortable as possible at the edge of the forest to wait for nightfall. They had several hours before it began to get dark, even this deep in winter, when night came early. Dounia cleared them a space by melting the snow off a small patch of ground. At least they would be dry while they waited.
Ira tried to make a better splint for her arm, and she wondered again if maybe she would be able to fix the break herself. Dounia must have known what she was considering, because she gave her a sharp look. Ira sighed, but knew that if she did it wrong, she could do enough damage that the shock could kill her.
A little while later, Dounia melted them some snow to drink. Ira's stomach gurgled and the water she'd gulped down swished around inside. She was so hungry, but there was nothing out here to eat.
"Sleep," Dounia told her. "I'll keep watch for a bit."
"I'll take the next shift," Ira said, already yawning and settling down, uncaring that the ground was so hard and lumpy.
"No, Meow will take the next shift."
She heard Meow protest, but the rest was lost in a darkening haze as she surrendered to sleep, unable to keep her eyes open once she'd given her body permission to rest.
FOUR
Night came swiftly, and across the empty expanse in front of them, a string of lights illuminated the forest where the German front lines were setting up for the night. Maybe from above, their camps were blacked out, to keep the night bombers from seeing their position. But from the ground, Dounia could see them perfectly.
"Do you think they're keeping up watch on the other side?" Ira asked, coming up beside her, Meow curled over her good shoulder.
"Most likely they're watching the sky for our sisters," Dounia said. "Or looking toward our lines. No one looks for enemies from behind."
"Do you think that they are still searching for us?" Ira asked. "I haven't heard a thing since that plane, but you two are the ones with the hearing."
"Not a sound," Dounia shook her head. "Not anything at all."
She hadn't heard any birds in the trees or animals in the woods the entire time they'd been here. It made sense that no animals wanted to live near an active warzone, but it was still eerie, the lack of life here. Just them and snow-covered trees.
"Let's cross. We have to hurry; we can't still be in sight once the sun rises again," Ira said, but paused, looking at Dounia. "Is it just me, or does it feel wrong to step across this burnt earth?"
"I don't want to cross either," Dounia admitted, a crawling feeling beginning in her belly at the thought of being out in the open. "But we must."
"It's a different feeling," Meow said, eyes glinting in the night. "This was where our front lines were a few weeks ago."
"We'll retake it," Ira said, voice steel-hard and determined. "They thought they had us beaten once, but we forced them back from the gates of Moscow. They will never win."
"Never," Dounia agreed, and took Ira's hand in hers.
Together, they stepped out into the vast corridor, feet crunching on the new snow. The bombing had wiped away all the snow that had fallen previously, and it was less deep than the snow in the forest. Dounia walked as fast as she dared, making sure that Ira kept her footing in the rough, uneven landscape.
"What a dead empty place," Ira said, and the sound echoed in the barren, snow-coated landscape.
"Shhh," Meow hissed, ears flattening. "Your voices will carry over the snow."
"Do you think anyone heard that?" Dounia asked in a whisper.
"Can't say," Meow replied, ears pricking forward to listen. "I can't hear anything."
They continued, and Dounia guided Ira as best she could. Dounia and Meow could both see the ground just fine in the dark, but Ira was almost blind. It was a cloudy
One German sniper or one scout plane was all it would take, and none of them would have a chance, not without a place to hide or take cover.
They made themselves as comfortable as possible at the edge of the forest to wait for nightfall. They had several hours before it began to get dark, even this deep in winter, when night came early. Dounia cleared them a space by melting the snow off a small patch of ground. At least they would be dry while they waited.
Ira tried to make a better splint for her arm, and she wondered again if maybe she would be able to fix the break herself. Dounia must have known what she was considering, because she gave her a sharp look. Ira sighed, but knew that if she did it wrong, she could do enough damage that the shock could kill her.
A little while later, Dounia melted them some snow to drink. Ira's stomach gurgled and the water she'd gulped down swished around inside. She was so hungry, but there was nothing out here to eat.
"Sleep," Dounia told her. "I'll keep watch for a bit."
"I'll take the next shift," Ira said, already yawning and settling down, uncaring that the ground was so hard and lumpy.
"No, Meow will take the next shift."
She heard Meow protest, but the rest was lost in a darkening haze as she surrendered to sleep, unable to keep her eyes open once she'd given her body permission to rest.
FOUR
Night came swiftly, and across the empty expanse in front of them, a string of lights illuminated the forest where the German front lines were setting up for the night. Maybe from above, their camps were blacked out, to keep the night bombers from seeing their position. But from the ground, Dounia could see them perfectly.
"Do you think they're keeping up watch on the other side?" Ira asked, coming up beside her, Meow curled over her good shoulder.
"Most likely they're watching the sky for our sisters," Dounia said. "Or looking toward our lines. No one looks for enemies from behind."
"Do you think that they are still searching for us?" Ira asked. "I haven't heard a thing since that plane, but you two are the ones with the hearing."
"Not a sound," Dounia shook her head. "Not anything at all."
She hadn't heard any birds in the trees or animals in the woods the entire time they'd been here. It made sense that no animals wanted to live near an active warzone, but it was still eerie, the lack of life here. Just them and snow-covered trees.
"Let's cross. We have to hurry; we can't still be in sight once the sun rises again," Ira said, but paused, looking at Dounia. "Is it just me, or does it feel wrong to step across this burnt earth?"
"I don't want to cross either," Dounia admitted, a crawling feeling beginning in her belly at the thought of being out in the open. "But we must."
"It's a different feeling," Meow said, eyes glinting in the night. "This was where our front lines were a few weeks ago."
"We'll retake it," Ira said, voice steel-hard and determined. "They thought they had us beaten once, but we forced them back from the gates of Moscow. They will never win."
"Never," Dounia agreed, and took Ira's hand in hers.
Together, they stepped out into the vast corridor, feet crunching on the new snow. The bombing had wiped away all the snow that had fallen previously, and it was less deep than the snow in the forest. Dounia walked as fast as she dared, making sure that Ira kept her footing in the rough, uneven landscape.
"What a dead empty place," Ira said, and the sound echoed in the barren, snow-coated landscape.
"Shhh," Meow hissed, ears flattening. "Your voices will carry over the snow."
"Do you think anyone heard that?" Dounia asked in a whisper.
"Can't say," Meow replied, ears pricking forward to listen. "I can't hear anything."
They continued, and Dounia guided Ira as best she could. Dounia and Meow could both see the ground just fine in the dark, but Ira was almost blind. It was a cloudy
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