Lost goods, lost
something; lost honor, lost much; lost courage, lost all. ― German Proverb
Gerta and I spent early
evening working in the tunnel. Knowing that I did not have much time, I worked
furiously, and made good progress that afternoon.
“It’s to the point where
we have to know how much farther to go,” I told Gerta. “You need to get into
Anna’s apartment and look at the Death Strip.”
She told me that she had
already visited Anna that afternoon, and that Anna wouldn’t let her in
again.
I felt as though I made
Gerta do too much work. It was as if Gerta was the one with courage, even
though I was the older one.
We were digging out a
rock when something horrible happened. Gerta and I tried digging out a rock
with a shovel when the blade of the shovel got stuck. I jumped on the handle of
the shovel hoping to catapult the rock out. Instead, the shovel broke in two,
with the rock still lodged in its place. I felt like an idiot. I cried out a
yell of frustration.
Gerta suddenly cupped
her hand over my mouth, and pointed to her ears. Then, I heard footsteps above
us. The good thing about the footsteps, they belonged to only one person. That
person was Officer Müller. I was scared to death.
DUN DUN
DUNNNNNNN
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