Connects with: Upon the Heights of Alma, Angel of Death, Red Sky at Night, Where Night is Blind & Tragic Silence
River of Blood © February 2022 E. C. Hibbs
Budapest, Hungary
December 1944
There was no ignoring the fact that we had been torn asunder. The whole of Hungary was essentially a battlefield by now. For months, our troops fell like flies on the Front Lines. Then came the German occupation. And then, the latest headline thrown among the chaos: the Soviets crossed our border. We began to crumble from the inside out, and now, the tide had truly turned against us.
Nothing was going according to plan. Every day, the danger mounted like a storm cloud. The enemies were coming closer, blood on their minds, determined to take us. Apa had predicted it would happen ever since September. Now, it was Christmas Eve, and when I saw people running towards Széll Kálmán Square, a freezing stone dropped in my belly. I knew. I just hoped to God that I was wrong.
I followed. I needed to get home, but this crowd wasn’t moving to find cover before the snow grew heavier. They were going for news. News which I could take back to my family.
The square was a large open space, but almost full already: a tide of coats and hats heaving against each other. Worried voices filled the air; the kind which communicate not with words, but with tone. In the centre, I spotted tram conductors, and I turned my head in an attempt to better hear what they were saying. Sure enough, there came the words I’d been dreading.
“The Russians are at the Budagyöngye Depot.”
Cries of disbelief and fright churned together, and the anxiety hardened into icy horror. Several gendarmes and cadets shouted back at the conductors, chastising them for spreading false rumours. But nobody in their right mind would have said something like that if it wasn’t true.
A whistle blew. Uniformed men surged through the throng and turned north-west, in the direction of the depot. The sound shook everyone into motion. People ran, bumping into each other, slipping on the frozen pavement.
“Nusi!”
I glanced over my shoulder, and saw Tobias coming towards me. His army uniform cut through the drab crowd like a knife. He let go of his gun with one hand and seized my arm.
“Nusi, what are you doing here?” he snapped in German. “You need to go!”
My heart somersaulted into my throat. “Do they mean to take the city?”
“Don’t worry, we can hold them off,” said Tobias. “But you can’t be here. Just get to your father’s offices and stay there. Do you understand me?”
“Wait!” I cried. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine! Go! Hurry!”
He didn’t wait for a reply, just pushed me away. He disappeared as the stream of people swarmed me. I stumbled along with them, until they spat me out in the middle of the road. My head whirled. I clutched my coat so hard, my fingernails bent inside my gloves.
More German soldiers appeared, all armed, their boots pounding in thunderous unison. Nobody had been happy about Berlin essentially taking control of our country, but at least their forces had allied with our own, and would defend Budapest. But still, Budagyöngye was only half an hour from Széll Kálmán. If Tobias and the others weren’t able to keep the Russians at bay, they would be upon this part of the city within an hour. There was nothing else to do but hide and hope.
Tobias’s face burned in front of my eyes. I’d seen him regularly at the market, with his red hair shining under his cap. He might be a German, and not classically handsome, but he was a kind soul who always took the time to speak with me. That was more than some of his comrades did.
A part of me, in frightened silliness, wanted to go after him; take him with me, away from the danger. But the fancy destroyed itself the moment it arrived. There was no time for such imagination now. I had to do as he’d said, and take cover.
I hurried to the river path. The shadow of Buda Castle loomed on its hill. The sky hung heavy with a ceiling of thick clouds. It was barely evening, but the midwinter nights closed in early, and I suddenly felt like an ant on the face of a huge, scarred world. For the past four years, the insanity of the War had dragged its claws through Europe. Since my seventeenth birthday, it had been all I’d known. Now I wondered if it would ever end.
In quiet moments, when everyone else was asleep, I’d liked to fool myself that it was all far away. Poland, France; anywhere but here. But that desperate illusion had shattered into smaller and smaller fragments. Horror had spilled onto my doorstep. The streets of my past were now the battleground of my future.
The grey Danube churned below as I ran across the Chain Bridge. It was crammed with traffic and pedestrians, some struggling to decide the best direction to take. I grabbed the handrail and used it to pull myself forwards. Snow flew in my face. The wind blew from behind me, and carried on its breath, I thought I heard the distant cracks of gunshots.
My body swirled inside itself: hot and cold. In one heartbeat, clarity sharpened every rivet and strut into impossible detail; the next, my feet felt miles away, and came down with dreamlike slowness. I tripped over them, bounced off a passing woman and spun into the side of the bridge. I barely managed to keep hold of my bag.
“Mirriam?”
A gloved hand closed on mine. I looked up, into a young man's face. He was dressed in black, but his skin was so starkly white, in the dim light, it seemed he had stepped straight out of a photograph. There was no colour at all; even his eyes were like coals. They roved over me, as though he had recognised me from somewhere.
I frowned. Was he one of Apa’s workers? I was sure I’d never seen him before. I would have remembered anyone with eyes like that.
He shook his head. “I beg your pardon. I thought you were someone else. Are you alright, miss?”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Thank you. I need to go–”
More gunshots burst into the air. They sounded closer this time, more intense. The man glanced towards them, and back at me.
“I noticed you were heading into Pest. So am I. Let me assist you.”
I went to refuse, but the words froze in my mouth. What was the point? If nothing else, he could help me get off the bridge in one piece.
He pulled me forward, with an ease which told me he had experience moving among crowds. People seemed to squeeze aside as though they instinctively knew we were coming, and in only a few minutes, we stood on the other side of the river.
“Köszönöm,” I said breathlessly.
“Whereabouts do you need to go?” the man asked. “Anywhere in the vicinity of Fiume Road?”
I pulled my hand free.
“Nem, not that far. I think I can manage from here. Thank you again, Mr–?”
“Kálvin,” he said. His eyes didn’t leave mine for a second. “Stay safe. Good luck to you.”
“And to you,” I said. “May God protect you and your family, sir.”
Mr Kálvin’s mouth gave the tiniest twitch. He drew a deep breath through his nose. Then he vanished into the streets.
I didn’t waste any time. People were still running, but out of the bottleneck of the bridge, I could finally move. I took the back alleys and wove my way into Lipótváros. My house had barely come into view when I spotted my mother and little sister Sári, each clutching a suitcase.
“Nusi, there you are!” Anya cried. “Where have you been? Have you heard?”
I nodded. “Are we going to the offices?”
“Yes. Your Apa’s already there. I have some of your clothes. Come on!”
She seized my hand and we headed several blocks away, to a building owned by my father. It was six storeys high: the headquarters of a manufacturing business which he had founded after the First World War. Anya pounded on the door, and a balding man let us in. I knew him: Peter, one of the company associates.
“Thank God,” he muttered. “Come upstairs. We need to close up.”
He locked the door behind us and we followed him to the topmost floor. Inside a couple of rooms were the others who had been part of Apa’s plan: Peter’s teenage son Gellért, and another high-ranking senior member of staff, Miklós. The three partners had begun preparing this space ever since the Red Army encroached on the city two months ago, just in case the German and Hungarian forces weren’t able to hold the line. Now, for however long the threat lingered, it was home.
Apa ran forward and pulled all of us into a hug.
“I was getting worried!” he cried. “Are you alright?”
“We’re fine,” Anya said. “We have everything we could carry.”
“You shouldn’t have weighed yourself down!”
“It’s fine. It’s just clothes and some ornaments. In case we run out of food and need to sell anything.”
Anya opened her suitcase and revealed two solid silver candlesticks wrapped in a jacket. They had stood on the mantelpiece for as long as I could remember: antiques from when Hungary was half of one of the most powerful Empires in the world. Looking at their intricate design now, I couldn’t help but grimace. How could we have fallen so far in fifty years?
Gellért moved closer. “Would you like me to put them in the emergency cupboard, Mr Görög?”
Apa nodded and passed the candlesticks to him. “Make sure they’re well hidden. I don’t want anyone finding them easily.”
“But none of us are going to steal them,” Sári frowned.
“It’s not us we’re worried about, little one,” said Peter. “The enemy always has sticky fingers. If the Russians do reach us, you can kiss those candlesticks goodbye.”
“Do you think they’ll find us all the way up here?” Anya asked nervously.
“This place will give us better protection, if the fighting comes close. But it’s still just a building. Anyone can climb stairs,” said Apa. Then his face became grave. “Listen, out of all of us, you three are in the most danger. Do you see this?”
He pointed at a ventilation shaft.
“There’s a spare room on the other side. We’ve hidden the actual door; this is the only way you can get in. There’s not much in there, just a bed and chamber pot. But if the soldiers come, I need you all to climb through.”
“I can’t reach that high!” Sári protested.
“Then one of us will lift you,” said Miklós. His tone was so serious, Sári fell silent and started fidgeting with the teddy bear in her hands.
Fear turned my stomach to iron. I put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. It wasn’t much comfort, but it was all I could give.
Then I noticed something else which I hadn’t seen before. Behind a chair, propped up against the wall, a framed painting sat on its side. It was a tangle of dark and messy brushstrokes; I could tell it wasn’t something which would have hung in the office. I craned my neck to see it better, but Gellért returned and carried it towards the emergency cupboard.
Peter twisted the dial on a crackly old radio. He managed to tune it to a local station, but the static was so intense, I could hardly make out any words. Peter, however, drew in a gasp and waved at Apa.
“Izsák!” he called. “They’ve withdrawn the eighth cavalry division from Pest.”
Miklós’s mouth fell open. “What good is that going to do?”
“They must know what they’re doing,” I insisted. “I saw Tobias Bernstein as I was leaving. He was on his way to investigate.”
“He’ll have to a lot more than investigating if he wants to hold the Russians off,” Peter muttered darkly.
A chill ran down my spine. Tobias was a good soldier. He had never been out of action for longer than a few days. And he was my friend. As horribly aware I was of the situation, I had to believe that would count for something, naïve as it might be.
While the men continued discussing matters, I wandered into the adjacent room, where beds had been set up. A window, criss-crossed with tape to protect against bomb blasts, looked out to the east. The black expanse of Kerepesi Cemetery sat like a huge hole in the middle of the streets. And further still, beyond what I could see: the Russian line at the edge of the city.
I supposed they would come this way, try to progress through Pest and reach the river. But, on the other hand, Pest was a huge area. Even though the Russians had Romanian assistance, they weren’t the only ones with two armies ready to fight. We Hungarians had the Germans. We would be alright. We had to be.
I bit my lip, so Sári wouldn’t see how close I was to crying. She was still a child, only nine, but despite the twelve-year age gap, our bond was stronger than steel. Somehow, despite the horror she had grown up in, her eyes were as wide and innocent as the day she was born.
A part of me wanted to believe that the Russians wouldn’t hurt her, but just like before, my gut said otherwise. And, a heartbeat later, it told me, one way or another, that sweet purity would be destroyed before all this was over.
Nothing was going according to plan. Every day, the danger mounted like a storm cloud. The enemies were coming closer, blood on their minds, determined to take us. Apa had predicted it would happen ever since September. Now, it was Christmas Eve, and when I saw people running towards Széll Kálmán Square, a freezing stone dropped in my belly. I knew. I just hoped to God that I was wrong.
I followed. I needed to get home, but this crowd wasn’t moving to find cover before the snow grew heavier. They were going for news. News which I could take back to my family.
The square was a large open space, but almost full already: a tide of coats and hats heaving against each other. Worried voices filled the air; the kind which communicate not with words, but with tone. In the centre, I spotted tram conductors, and I turned my head in an attempt to better hear what they were saying. Sure enough, there came the words I’d been dreading.
“The Russians are at the Budagyöngye Depot.”
Cries of disbelief and fright churned together, and the anxiety hardened into icy horror. Several gendarmes and cadets shouted back at the conductors, chastising them for spreading false rumours. But nobody in their right mind would have said something like that if it wasn’t true.
A whistle blew. Uniformed men surged through the throng and turned north-west, in the direction of the depot. The sound shook everyone into motion. People ran, bumping into each other, slipping on the frozen pavement.
“Nusi!”
I glanced over my shoulder, and saw Tobias coming towards me. His army uniform cut through the drab crowd like a knife. He let go of his gun with one hand and seized my arm.
“Nusi, what are you doing here?” he snapped in German. “You need to go!”
My heart somersaulted into my throat. “Do they mean to take the city?”
“Don’t worry, we can hold them off,” said Tobias. “But you can’t be here. Just get to your father’s offices and stay there. Do you understand me?”
“Wait!” I cried. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine! Go! Hurry!”
He didn’t wait for a reply, just pushed me away. He disappeared as the stream of people swarmed me. I stumbled along with them, until they spat me out in the middle of the road. My head whirled. I clutched my coat so hard, my fingernails bent inside my gloves.
More German soldiers appeared, all armed, their boots pounding in thunderous unison. Nobody had been happy about Berlin essentially taking control of our country, but at least their forces had allied with our own, and would defend Budapest. But still, Budagyöngye was only half an hour from Széll Kálmán. If Tobias and the others weren’t able to keep the Russians at bay, they would be upon this part of the city within an hour. There was nothing else to do but hide and hope.
Tobias’s face burned in front of my eyes. I’d seen him regularly at the market, with his red hair shining under his cap. He might be a German, and not classically handsome, but he was a kind soul who always took the time to speak with me. That was more than some of his comrades did.
A part of me, in frightened silliness, wanted to go after him; take him with me, away from the danger. But the fancy destroyed itself the moment it arrived. There was no time for such imagination now. I had to do as he’d said, and take cover.
I hurried to the river path. The shadow of Buda Castle loomed on its hill. The sky hung heavy with a ceiling of thick clouds. It was barely evening, but the midwinter nights closed in early, and I suddenly felt like an ant on the face of a huge, scarred world. For the past four years, the insanity of the War had dragged its claws through Europe. Since my seventeenth birthday, it had been all I’d known. Now I wondered if it would ever end.
In quiet moments, when everyone else was asleep, I’d liked to fool myself that it was all far away. Poland, France; anywhere but here. But that desperate illusion had shattered into smaller and smaller fragments. Horror had spilled onto my doorstep. The streets of my past were now the battleground of my future.
The grey Danube churned below as I ran across the Chain Bridge. It was crammed with traffic and pedestrians, some struggling to decide the best direction to take. I grabbed the handrail and used it to pull myself forwards. Snow flew in my face. The wind blew from behind me, and carried on its breath, I thought I heard the distant cracks of gunshots.
My body swirled inside itself: hot and cold. In one heartbeat, clarity sharpened every rivet and strut into impossible detail; the next, my feet felt miles away, and came down with dreamlike slowness. I tripped over them, bounced off a passing woman and spun into the side of the bridge. I barely managed to keep hold of my bag.
“Mirriam?”
A gloved hand closed on mine. I looked up, into a young man's face. He was dressed in black, but his skin was so starkly white, in the dim light, it seemed he had stepped straight out of a photograph. There was no colour at all; even his eyes were like coals. They roved over me, as though he had recognised me from somewhere.
I frowned. Was he one of Apa’s workers? I was sure I’d never seen him before. I would have remembered anyone with eyes like that.
He shook his head. “I beg your pardon. I thought you were someone else. Are you alright, miss?”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Thank you. I need to go–”
More gunshots burst into the air. They sounded closer this time, more intense. The man glanced towards them, and back at me.
“I noticed you were heading into Pest. So am I. Let me assist you.”
I went to refuse, but the words froze in my mouth. What was the point? If nothing else, he could help me get off the bridge in one piece.
He pulled me forward, with an ease which told me he had experience moving among crowds. People seemed to squeeze aside as though they instinctively knew we were coming, and in only a few minutes, we stood on the other side of the river.
“Köszönöm,” I said breathlessly.
“Whereabouts do you need to go?” the man asked. “Anywhere in the vicinity of Fiume Road?”
I pulled my hand free.
“Nem, not that far. I think I can manage from here. Thank you again, Mr–?”
“Kálvin,” he said. His eyes didn’t leave mine for a second. “Stay safe. Good luck to you.”
“And to you,” I said. “May God protect you and your family, sir.”
Mr Kálvin’s mouth gave the tiniest twitch. He drew a deep breath through his nose. Then he vanished into the streets.
I didn’t waste any time. People were still running, but out of the bottleneck of the bridge, I could finally move. I took the back alleys and wove my way into Lipótváros. My house had barely come into view when I spotted my mother and little sister Sári, each clutching a suitcase.
“Nusi, there you are!” Anya cried. “Where have you been? Have you heard?”
I nodded. “Are we going to the offices?”
“Yes. Your Apa’s already there. I have some of your clothes. Come on!”
She seized my hand and we headed several blocks away, to a building owned by my father. It was six storeys high: the headquarters of a manufacturing business which he had founded after the First World War. Anya pounded on the door, and a balding man let us in. I knew him: Peter, one of the company associates.
“Thank God,” he muttered. “Come upstairs. We need to close up.”
He locked the door behind us and we followed him to the topmost floor. Inside a couple of rooms were the others who had been part of Apa’s plan: Peter’s teenage son Gellért, and another high-ranking senior member of staff, Miklós. The three partners had begun preparing this space ever since the Red Army encroached on the city two months ago, just in case the German and Hungarian forces weren’t able to hold the line. Now, for however long the threat lingered, it was home.
Apa ran forward and pulled all of us into a hug.
“I was getting worried!” he cried. “Are you alright?”
“We’re fine,” Anya said. “We have everything we could carry.”
“You shouldn’t have weighed yourself down!”
“It’s fine. It’s just clothes and some ornaments. In case we run out of food and need to sell anything.”
Anya opened her suitcase and revealed two solid silver candlesticks wrapped in a jacket. They had stood on the mantelpiece for as long as I could remember: antiques from when Hungary was half of one of the most powerful Empires in the world. Looking at their intricate design now, I couldn’t help but grimace. How could we have fallen so far in fifty years?
Gellért moved closer. “Would you like me to put them in the emergency cupboard, Mr Görög?”
Apa nodded and passed the candlesticks to him. “Make sure they’re well hidden. I don’t want anyone finding them easily.”
“But none of us are going to steal them,” Sári frowned.
“It’s not us we’re worried about, little one,” said Peter. “The enemy always has sticky fingers. If the Russians do reach us, you can kiss those candlesticks goodbye.”
“Do you think they’ll find us all the way up here?” Anya asked nervously.
“This place will give us better protection, if the fighting comes close. But it’s still just a building. Anyone can climb stairs,” said Apa. Then his face became grave. “Listen, out of all of us, you three are in the most danger. Do you see this?”
He pointed at a ventilation shaft.
“There’s a spare room on the other side. We’ve hidden the actual door; this is the only way you can get in. There’s not much in there, just a bed and chamber pot. But if the soldiers come, I need you all to climb through.”
“I can’t reach that high!” Sári protested.
“Then one of us will lift you,” said Miklós. His tone was so serious, Sári fell silent and started fidgeting with the teddy bear in her hands.
Fear turned my stomach to iron. I put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. It wasn’t much comfort, but it was all I could give.
Then I noticed something else which I hadn’t seen before. Behind a chair, propped up against the wall, a framed painting sat on its side. It was a tangle of dark and messy brushstrokes; I could tell it wasn’t something which would have hung in the office. I craned my neck to see it better, but Gellért returned and carried it towards the emergency cupboard.
Peter twisted the dial on a crackly old radio. He managed to tune it to a local station, but the static was so intense, I could hardly make out any words. Peter, however, drew in a gasp and waved at Apa.
“Izsák!” he called. “They’ve withdrawn the eighth cavalry division from Pest.”
Miklós’s mouth fell open. “What good is that going to do?”
“They must know what they’re doing,” I insisted. “I saw Tobias Bernstein as I was leaving. He was on his way to investigate.”
“He’ll have to a lot more than investigating if he wants to hold the Russians off,” Peter muttered darkly.
A chill ran down my spine. Tobias was a good soldier. He had never been out of action for longer than a few days. And he was my friend. As horribly aware I was of the situation, I had to believe that would count for something, naïve as it might be.
While the men continued discussing matters, I wandered into the adjacent room, where beds had been set up. A window, criss-crossed with tape to protect against bomb blasts, looked out to the east. The black expanse of Kerepesi Cemetery sat like a huge hole in the middle of the streets. And further still, beyond what I could see: the Russian line at the edge of the city.
I supposed they would come this way, try to progress through Pest and reach the river. But, on the other hand, Pest was a huge area. Even though the Russians had Romanian assistance, they weren’t the only ones with two armies ready to fight. We Hungarians had the Germans. We would be alright. We had to be.
I bit my lip, so Sári wouldn’t see how close I was to crying. She was still a child, only nine, but despite the twelve-year age gap, our bond was stronger than steel. Somehow, despite the horror she had grown up in, her eyes were as wide and innocent as the day she was born.
A part of me wanted to believe that the Russians wouldn’t hurt her, but just like before, my gut said otherwise. And, a heartbeat later, it told me, one way or another, that sweet purity would be destroyed before all this was over.
*
A few days after Christmas, the power shut off. We cocooned ourselves in blankets and burned wood to keep warm. Luckily, the water didn’t fail, but to be on the safe side, we filled containers and stored them all around the building. Apa, Peter and Miklós had prepared well. We had a supply of canned food, which could last two months if we rationed it. They had even constructed a few bunk beds in the basement, in the event of the fight advancing on us.
And it was. At every news bulletin, we crowded around the radio. Each time, we learned how the Soviets had pushed through the defences. If our men snatched back any land, it was soon regained by the enemy. At all hours, noise burst through the air. The drones of aircraft thrummed in my ears and the night sky exploded with faraway artillery blasts. It was that sound, rather than bells, that signalled the birth of the new year. The battle wasn’t here yet, but it was coming, creeping closer like a monster from a story.
I slouched in a chair and thumbed through a book, reading as slowly as I could to pass the time. It was a novel which I’d devoured not long ago, but I forced myself to try and forget the plot, so it might distract me from outside. Anya darned clothes incessantly, and when all the holes were closed, she turned her attention to knitting scarves for us. I watched her over the rim of my book, and noticed her hands were shaking. Every now and then, she dropped a stitch, and didn’t go back to correct it.
Sári sat at my feet, playing with a box of dominoes. Apart from her teddy bear, it was the only amusement she had.
“How long have we been here?” she asked, softly, as though scared of breaking the silence.
“Ten days,” Gellért replied. Those two words were so heavy, his chest heaved with the effort of speaking them.
It certainly felt much longer than ten days.
I eyed the ventilation shaft. We hadn’t needed to climb through it yet. But, once again, my gut twisted. At the rate the Russians were moving, they would be here before long. And then we wouldn’t just be in hiding. We would be truly trapped.
Peter kicked open the door, carrying a bucket of water in each hand.
“This is the last of what we have on the fifth floor,” he said breathlessly. “We’ll need to start being careful. Reuse what you use for cooking, Réka.”
Anya regarded the buckets. “I won’t be able to speak to the quality of the food.”
“Quality doesn’t matter,” said Apa. He bent over the back of her chair and stroked her cheek. “Peter’s right. Drinking comes before eating, after all.”
“There’s something else,” Peter added, more serious now. “While I was filling these up, I heard a couple of soldiers below. They were saying the fighting has reached the City Park.”
I almost dropped my book in alarm. That was so close, I could normally have walked the distance from this building in only forty minutes.
I stepped over Sári and peered out of the window. The nearby streets, originally empty as people hid away, now swarmed with a tide of uniforms. The Germans had secured a school around the block, and were carting boxes and metals through the doors.
“Weapons,” Miklós said from beside me. “They’re using that place as a store, no doubt. God help us all if a shell hits it.”
I shuddered.
“What are we going to do?” Gellért asked.
“There’s nothing we can do,” said Peter. His voice was as tight as a cord.
“Shouldn’t we move, or something? At this rate, we’ll be behind enemy lines soon.”
“Everyone’s been told to stay put. It’s safer up here than it is out there.”
“Until a shell hits that bloody school,” Miklós muttered again.
“That’s not helping,” snapped Apa. “We need to have some faith.”
His words wavered even as he spoke them. It hadn’t been long, all things considered, but none of us had thought the Russians would advance this quickly. Me, least of all.
“Our men will fight them off,” I insisted, trying to convince myself as much as anyone else. “Tobias will fight them off.”
Gellért smirked. “Tobias again. Have you got a soft spot for him?”
“He’s my friend,” I replied. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“How old is he?”
“Twenty-six.”
I forced myself to sound calm, nonchalant, but I knew a little blush was rising to my cheeks.
“You do realise,” said Miklós, in a bitter tone, “that Germans are intruders, just as much as Russians?”
“They’re our allies,” argued Gellért.
“Mm. And who wants to place bets on them taking us, the same as they did Poland? Or Austria? They’ve already snatched up the other half of what our Empire once was. What’s to keep them from doing the same with us, so Hitler can make an empire of his own?”
I faced Miklós directly. “Tobias isn’t like that. I know him.”
Miklós scoffed. “For three whole months? Nusi, I don’t mean any disrespect; your father will say the same. Don’t trust anyone. There might be decent men out there, just as much as evil ones, but in the end, they are all men at war.”
I threw a glance at Apa. He nodded in agreement.
“I hope your friend is safe, but right now, that’s all we have. You can’t count on just one soldier, no matter how well you like each other. Now, let’s not fight. This isn’t good for any of us. We need to stay positive.”
“We also need to stay away from the windows now,” added Miklós. “Just to be safe. If they blow in, or if a stray bullet comes this way…”
“Good thinking,” said Anya.
I kept quiet. I knew Miklós spoke truth. He, Apa and Peter had fought in the First World War, after all. But I needed something to hold onto, silly as it was.
I wandered away from them. We got along well enough, but being cooped up together like this while the city imploded around us… I’d never felt so desperate to just fling open a door and run. Imprisoned by realism as much as physical walls, I let my imagination free.
Where might I go, if only I could go? Perhaps I could sneak past the Russians like a game of hide and seek – there had to be some backstreets they’d forgotten to cover – and make my way into the rural Alföld, where we used to holiday when I was a child. Or maybe I could steal a boat and row down the Danube. East would take me through Romania, but if I went west, even though it would be more difficult to go against the current, I’d eventually reach Germany. Maybe I could find Tobias and tell him to meet me there; arrange a whole escape mission for my family and comrades…
I laughed under my breath. Even for a fancy, this was getting ridiculous.
I paced the bedroom, then the makeshift kitchen. A tower of chipped plates sat on the counter, all different sizes, salvaged in the weeks before the siege began. The topmost one was still scattered with crumbs. There was no point using precious water to clean something so trivial.
I opened the emergency cupboard. Originally, Apa and the others used it to store old business files, but now it housed the few valuables we had kept to hand. At once, I spotted our candlesticks. Beside them were money boxes, platters, and expensive cutlery.
And then, starkly at odds with the shine of the ornaments, Peter’s painting. Curiosity tightened my stomach, and I bent closer for a better look. I saw a full moon, and people with flaming torches. In the middle was a woman, a monster on her back, surrounded by fire, huge bat wings above its head.
“Nusi?”
I recognised Peter’s voice, but it still made me jump. He held out his hands gently.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.
“No, I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I shouldn’t pry. It just caught my attention.”
“It’s not prying,” replied Peter. His eyes shifted to the canvas, and a tight smile crept across his lips. “A rather odd image, isn’t it?”
“What is it?” I asked.
Peter’s smirk grew when he heard my tone.
“It’s not valuable, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “At least, not in the same sense as these other things. My father painted it, about forty-five years ago. It’s special to me. I want to protect it as much as I can.”
I nodded, but still couldn’t stop looking at the woman.
“What’s it supposed to be?” I asked. “A story, or something?”
“It’s a legend from where he grew up,” replied Peter. “He was from a tiny village in the east, and there was a lot of talk about… creatures and such like. Demons and vampires.”
I smiled. “Seriously?”
“Indeed.”
“Did he actually believe in that kind of stuff?”
“I don’t think so. But still, things stick with you, don’t they?”
I glanced at the painting again. “Well, what’s this legend about?”
“I’m not sure,” Peter admitted. “He told it to me when I was young, but I can’t remember a lot of it. I took a rather bad hit to the head when my ship went down in Pula. Something about a priest who tried to force all the vampires out of the country, but one got loose. Made some kind of light in its hand as a lure, and once it was free, it killed the priest’s niece. At least, I think that’s the story.”
“You’re telling stories?” Sári asked excitedly, poking her head around the doorframe.
“Scary stories,” I laughed, and hunched my shoulders, pretending to creep up on her. “Run, little one, run! I’m a vampire, and I’m going to get you!”
Sári squealed and scampered away. I chased after her, cornered her in the main room and pulled her to the floor. She tried to kick me off, but was laughing too hard to manage it.
“You’re all mine now!” I proclaimed. I tickled her ribs; yanked her back into my lap when she tried to escape. Apa and Anya looked on with amused smiles.
For a blissful moment, I forgot about everything. We were children again. All was normal, as safe as houses.
Then I heard a bomb blast; felt it reverberate through the entire building. Like lightning striking my heart, reality came crashing down. I let go of Sári, helped her to her feet, and sat in my chair while Peter tuned the radio.
If only I was a vampire. Then I could spread wings, like that monster in the picture, and take my family away from all this death.
A knock suddenly sounded on the front door. Anya slapped her hands over her mouth to hold in a shriek. Apa sprang to his feet, grabbed Sári and me, and bundled us towards the ventilation shaft.
“Hold on, Izsák. It’s not Russians,” Peter said, shooting a glance out of the window. “It’s a German.”
“How many?”
“Just one, from the looks of it. Do you want me to go and see him?”
Apa relaxed a little, but still didn’t let go of us.
“Alright,” he said. “But be careful.”
Peter ran from the room. I listened to him disappearing down the staircase, and then, a few minutes later, returning with another set of footsteps in tow. Sári cowered behind me. The Germans were our allies; they wouldn’t hurt us…
Peter stepped through the door, followed by a soldier, with a shock of red hair. For a second, I forgot to breathe.
“Tobias?”
“Nusi,” he smiled in relief. “Thank God you’re still safe.”
“He said he wanted to see you,” Peter explained. “You told him we were going to be here?”
“Only him,” I insisted. “I trust him. You can, too.”
Tobias glanced at Apa and removed his helmet.
“Sergeant Bernstein, at your service.”
“Izsák Görög, at yours,” replied Apa tightly. “And my associates, Miklós Denever and Peter Farkas.”
I approached Tobias. His uniform was covered with dirt. The stink of blood, sweat and rubble rolled off him in waves. His eyes sat deep in his face, red-rimmed, beyond tired. He had lost weight, and a barely-healed scar crossed his cheek. He looked as though all the energy had been sucked out of him.
I didn’t know what to say. All my words fell over each other and failed before I could even speak them.
“Why are you here?” I managed in the end, and immediately hated how I sounded.
In response, Tobias reached into his pockets and drew out four cans of soup.
“It’s not much, but I wanted to get these to you,” he said.
Anya gasped. “Thank you so much, sir!”
“If anyone asks – which I doubt they will; there are more important matters right now – you didn’t get anything from me,” said Tobias. “My division’s been fighting constantly, but we’re holed up around this area now. The bastards have pushed us back. They’ll be going after the cemetery next.”
He stepped closer, his face like stone.
“Listen to me, all of you. Under no circumstances are you to leave this building. It was dangerous before, but it will be worse soon. This is the only time I’ll be able to help you. I’m not even supposed to be here now. My commanding officer will tan my hide if he finds out.”
“Then you should go,” said Miklós. “We appreciate what you’ve done, but don’t put yourself at risk on account of us.”
“This was my choice,” replied Tobias firmly, and replaced his helmet. “I can’t stay. Just take care and lie low.”
He threw a glance at me, then turned and headed out of the door. I didn’t hesitate before hurrying after him.
“I’ll be fine,” I tossed over my shoulder at Apa. “Tobias, wait! I’ll lock up behind you.”
He was already several feet away from me by the time I reached the staircase. Only at the bottom did he pause and wait. I held onto the banister, out of breath, my heart in my mouth.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“I know. I wanted to.”
“Have you done it for anyone else?”
“No. And you know I haven’t. But I’m not friends with anyone else, am I?”
He ran a hand over his face, dragged the skin down with his fingers. It had only been a few weeks, but since Christmas, he looked as though he had aged ten years.
“Nusi, I need to tell you something,” he said ruefully. “Our forces will be retreating soon, to hold the Danube. The Hungarians, too. We’re losing Pest.”
My stomach flipped. “What?”
“The Russians have sealed off the city too well. Nobody can get in and bring reinforcements. Not right now, at least. Word is that the hills in Buda will be easier to defend than here.”
“So you’re pulling all the way back there? What about this place?”
Tobias lowered his eyes.
“We’re going to carry on fighting, of course. But you need to be prepared. They will come.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I held onto the banister harder than ever.
“So even if an evacuation happens, there’s nowhere for us to go, is there?” I asked. My voice broke with terror.
Tobias just looked at me. His silent expression answered louder than any words. Then he took another step, standing closer than he ever had before.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to save someone, you know. Last March, I was in Frankfurt when the British bombed it. I helped dig through the rubble and pulled out a little girl. You remind me of her, in a way. Tougher than you look. Maybe even tougher than you know.”
“I’m not sure about that,” I admitted. “I’m trapped here as much as you are. And there’s no hope, is there?”
Tobias arched an eyebrow. “It’s slim. I won’t lie about that. But if all this fighting has taught me anything, it’s that there’s always hope. I’d be long dead if there wasn’t.”
“Don’t say that,” I snapped. “Don’t tempt fate.”
“I dance with her every day,” he replied, a tiny smirk curling his lips. “And I’m honoured to do that. It’s filthy work, but better this than to be a filthy coward. Like my brother.”
I blinked. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
Vitriol flashed across Tobias’s face like lightning.
“Edmund is his name. He’s a scientist; a fair bit older than me. He ran off to Switzerland, went into hiding. He’d rather waste time playing with his chemistry set and his stupid blood samples. But he’s working on important stuff. Unparalleled. I know there are officers looking for him, and when I get out of here, I’ll tell them exactly where he is.”
I didn’t know what to say. I’d never heard him speak with such vehemence.
I looked at his fingers. Dirt had worked into every line in his skin. How many lives had he taken? How many of those lives had tried to end his? Only twenty-six years old, and yet so nonchalant, so accepting of all this hellfire.
“But wouldn’t you like to get away?” I asked gently. “How much longer can this go on?”
“As long as it takes,” Tobias sighed. But I heard pain in his words, cutting through the heat. He sounded like me: a frightened youngster, trying to stay strong because the alternative was out of the question.
He reached out and touched my hand. I forced myself to stand still.
“I want to tell you something else,” he said, softer now. “I never needed to go to the market for bread and things. They always supplied us well enough. But I knew you were there. I knew there was a chance I might have seen you.”
I tried to swallow, but my throat had turned drier than sand. And before I could even think of speaking, Tobias leaned forward and kissed me.
Shock and exhilaration froze me to the spot. I tasted gunpowder, the salt of sweat and faint tang of tobacco. Then, mere seconds later, his lips lifted from mine.
“Goodbye, Nusi.”
By the time I looked up again, he was gone, the front door swinging shut behind him. I drew all the bolts and chains into place, and sank onto the floor.
And it was. At every news bulletin, we crowded around the radio. Each time, we learned how the Soviets had pushed through the defences. If our men snatched back any land, it was soon regained by the enemy. At all hours, noise burst through the air. The drones of aircraft thrummed in my ears and the night sky exploded with faraway artillery blasts. It was that sound, rather than bells, that signalled the birth of the new year. The battle wasn’t here yet, but it was coming, creeping closer like a monster from a story.
I slouched in a chair and thumbed through a book, reading as slowly as I could to pass the time. It was a novel which I’d devoured not long ago, but I forced myself to try and forget the plot, so it might distract me from outside. Anya darned clothes incessantly, and when all the holes were closed, she turned her attention to knitting scarves for us. I watched her over the rim of my book, and noticed her hands were shaking. Every now and then, she dropped a stitch, and didn’t go back to correct it.
Sári sat at my feet, playing with a box of dominoes. Apart from her teddy bear, it was the only amusement she had.
“How long have we been here?” she asked, softly, as though scared of breaking the silence.
“Ten days,” Gellért replied. Those two words were so heavy, his chest heaved with the effort of speaking them.
It certainly felt much longer than ten days.
I eyed the ventilation shaft. We hadn’t needed to climb through it yet. But, once again, my gut twisted. At the rate the Russians were moving, they would be here before long. And then we wouldn’t just be in hiding. We would be truly trapped.
Peter kicked open the door, carrying a bucket of water in each hand.
“This is the last of what we have on the fifth floor,” he said breathlessly. “We’ll need to start being careful. Reuse what you use for cooking, Réka.”
Anya regarded the buckets. “I won’t be able to speak to the quality of the food.”
“Quality doesn’t matter,” said Apa. He bent over the back of her chair and stroked her cheek. “Peter’s right. Drinking comes before eating, after all.”
“There’s something else,” Peter added, more serious now. “While I was filling these up, I heard a couple of soldiers below. They were saying the fighting has reached the City Park.”
I almost dropped my book in alarm. That was so close, I could normally have walked the distance from this building in only forty minutes.
I stepped over Sári and peered out of the window. The nearby streets, originally empty as people hid away, now swarmed with a tide of uniforms. The Germans had secured a school around the block, and were carting boxes and metals through the doors.
“Weapons,” Miklós said from beside me. “They’re using that place as a store, no doubt. God help us all if a shell hits it.”
I shuddered.
“What are we going to do?” Gellért asked.
“There’s nothing we can do,” said Peter. His voice was as tight as a cord.
“Shouldn’t we move, or something? At this rate, we’ll be behind enemy lines soon.”
“Everyone’s been told to stay put. It’s safer up here than it is out there.”
“Until a shell hits that bloody school,” Miklós muttered again.
“That’s not helping,” snapped Apa. “We need to have some faith.”
His words wavered even as he spoke them. It hadn’t been long, all things considered, but none of us had thought the Russians would advance this quickly. Me, least of all.
“Our men will fight them off,” I insisted, trying to convince myself as much as anyone else. “Tobias will fight them off.”
Gellért smirked. “Tobias again. Have you got a soft spot for him?”
“He’s my friend,” I replied. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“How old is he?”
“Twenty-six.”
I forced myself to sound calm, nonchalant, but I knew a little blush was rising to my cheeks.
“You do realise,” said Miklós, in a bitter tone, “that Germans are intruders, just as much as Russians?”
“They’re our allies,” argued Gellért.
“Mm. And who wants to place bets on them taking us, the same as they did Poland? Or Austria? They’ve already snatched up the other half of what our Empire once was. What’s to keep them from doing the same with us, so Hitler can make an empire of his own?”
I faced Miklós directly. “Tobias isn’t like that. I know him.”
Miklós scoffed. “For three whole months? Nusi, I don’t mean any disrespect; your father will say the same. Don’t trust anyone. There might be decent men out there, just as much as evil ones, but in the end, they are all men at war.”
I threw a glance at Apa. He nodded in agreement.
“I hope your friend is safe, but right now, that’s all we have. You can’t count on just one soldier, no matter how well you like each other. Now, let’s not fight. This isn’t good for any of us. We need to stay positive.”
“We also need to stay away from the windows now,” added Miklós. “Just to be safe. If they blow in, or if a stray bullet comes this way…”
“Good thinking,” said Anya.
I kept quiet. I knew Miklós spoke truth. He, Apa and Peter had fought in the First World War, after all. But I needed something to hold onto, silly as it was.
I wandered away from them. We got along well enough, but being cooped up together like this while the city imploded around us… I’d never felt so desperate to just fling open a door and run. Imprisoned by realism as much as physical walls, I let my imagination free.
Where might I go, if only I could go? Perhaps I could sneak past the Russians like a game of hide and seek – there had to be some backstreets they’d forgotten to cover – and make my way into the rural Alföld, where we used to holiday when I was a child. Or maybe I could steal a boat and row down the Danube. East would take me through Romania, but if I went west, even though it would be more difficult to go against the current, I’d eventually reach Germany. Maybe I could find Tobias and tell him to meet me there; arrange a whole escape mission for my family and comrades…
I laughed under my breath. Even for a fancy, this was getting ridiculous.
I paced the bedroom, then the makeshift kitchen. A tower of chipped plates sat on the counter, all different sizes, salvaged in the weeks before the siege began. The topmost one was still scattered with crumbs. There was no point using precious water to clean something so trivial.
I opened the emergency cupboard. Originally, Apa and the others used it to store old business files, but now it housed the few valuables we had kept to hand. At once, I spotted our candlesticks. Beside them were money boxes, platters, and expensive cutlery.
And then, starkly at odds with the shine of the ornaments, Peter’s painting. Curiosity tightened my stomach, and I bent closer for a better look. I saw a full moon, and people with flaming torches. In the middle was a woman, a monster on her back, surrounded by fire, huge bat wings above its head.
“Nusi?”
I recognised Peter’s voice, but it still made me jump. He held out his hands gently.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.
“No, I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I shouldn’t pry. It just caught my attention.”
“It’s not prying,” replied Peter. His eyes shifted to the canvas, and a tight smile crept across his lips. “A rather odd image, isn’t it?”
“What is it?” I asked.
Peter’s smirk grew when he heard my tone.
“It’s not valuable, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “At least, not in the same sense as these other things. My father painted it, about forty-five years ago. It’s special to me. I want to protect it as much as I can.”
I nodded, but still couldn’t stop looking at the woman.
“What’s it supposed to be?” I asked. “A story, or something?”
“It’s a legend from where he grew up,” replied Peter. “He was from a tiny village in the east, and there was a lot of talk about… creatures and such like. Demons and vampires.”
I smiled. “Seriously?”
“Indeed.”
“Did he actually believe in that kind of stuff?”
“I don’t think so. But still, things stick with you, don’t they?”
I glanced at the painting again. “Well, what’s this legend about?”
“I’m not sure,” Peter admitted. “He told it to me when I was young, but I can’t remember a lot of it. I took a rather bad hit to the head when my ship went down in Pula. Something about a priest who tried to force all the vampires out of the country, but one got loose. Made some kind of light in its hand as a lure, and once it was free, it killed the priest’s niece. At least, I think that’s the story.”
“You’re telling stories?” Sári asked excitedly, poking her head around the doorframe.
“Scary stories,” I laughed, and hunched my shoulders, pretending to creep up on her. “Run, little one, run! I’m a vampire, and I’m going to get you!”
Sári squealed and scampered away. I chased after her, cornered her in the main room and pulled her to the floor. She tried to kick me off, but was laughing too hard to manage it.
“You’re all mine now!” I proclaimed. I tickled her ribs; yanked her back into my lap when she tried to escape. Apa and Anya looked on with amused smiles.
For a blissful moment, I forgot about everything. We were children again. All was normal, as safe as houses.
Then I heard a bomb blast; felt it reverberate through the entire building. Like lightning striking my heart, reality came crashing down. I let go of Sári, helped her to her feet, and sat in my chair while Peter tuned the radio.
If only I was a vampire. Then I could spread wings, like that monster in the picture, and take my family away from all this death.
A knock suddenly sounded on the front door. Anya slapped her hands over her mouth to hold in a shriek. Apa sprang to his feet, grabbed Sári and me, and bundled us towards the ventilation shaft.
“Hold on, Izsák. It’s not Russians,” Peter said, shooting a glance out of the window. “It’s a German.”
“How many?”
“Just one, from the looks of it. Do you want me to go and see him?”
Apa relaxed a little, but still didn’t let go of us.
“Alright,” he said. “But be careful.”
Peter ran from the room. I listened to him disappearing down the staircase, and then, a few minutes later, returning with another set of footsteps in tow. Sári cowered behind me. The Germans were our allies; they wouldn’t hurt us…
Peter stepped through the door, followed by a soldier, with a shock of red hair. For a second, I forgot to breathe.
“Tobias?”
“Nusi,” he smiled in relief. “Thank God you’re still safe.”
“He said he wanted to see you,” Peter explained. “You told him we were going to be here?”
“Only him,” I insisted. “I trust him. You can, too.”
Tobias glanced at Apa and removed his helmet.
“Sergeant Bernstein, at your service.”
“Izsák Görög, at yours,” replied Apa tightly. “And my associates, Miklós Denever and Peter Farkas.”
I approached Tobias. His uniform was covered with dirt. The stink of blood, sweat and rubble rolled off him in waves. His eyes sat deep in his face, red-rimmed, beyond tired. He had lost weight, and a barely-healed scar crossed his cheek. He looked as though all the energy had been sucked out of him.
I didn’t know what to say. All my words fell over each other and failed before I could even speak them.
“Why are you here?” I managed in the end, and immediately hated how I sounded.
In response, Tobias reached into his pockets and drew out four cans of soup.
“It’s not much, but I wanted to get these to you,” he said.
Anya gasped. “Thank you so much, sir!”
“If anyone asks – which I doubt they will; there are more important matters right now – you didn’t get anything from me,” said Tobias. “My division’s been fighting constantly, but we’re holed up around this area now. The bastards have pushed us back. They’ll be going after the cemetery next.”
He stepped closer, his face like stone.
“Listen to me, all of you. Under no circumstances are you to leave this building. It was dangerous before, but it will be worse soon. This is the only time I’ll be able to help you. I’m not even supposed to be here now. My commanding officer will tan my hide if he finds out.”
“Then you should go,” said Miklós. “We appreciate what you’ve done, but don’t put yourself at risk on account of us.”
“This was my choice,” replied Tobias firmly, and replaced his helmet. “I can’t stay. Just take care and lie low.”
He threw a glance at me, then turned and headed out of the door. I didn’t hesitate before hurrying after him.
“I’ll be fine,” I tossed over my shoulder at Apa. “Tobias, wait! I’ll lock up behind you.”
He was already several feet away from me by the time I reached the staircase. Only at the bottom did he pause and wait. I held onto the banister, out of breath, my heart in my mouth.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“I know. I wanted to.”
“Have you done it for anyone else?”
“No. And you know I haven’t. But I’m not friends with anyone else, am I?”
He ran a hand over his face, dragged the skin down with his fingers. It had only been a few weeks, but since Christmas, he looked as though he had aged ten years.
“Nusi, I need to tell you something,” he said ruefully. “Our forces will be retreating soon, to hold the Danube. The Hungarians, too. We’re losing Pest.”
My stomach flipped. “What?”
“The Russians have sealed off the city too well. Nobody can get in and bring reinforcements. Not right now, at least. Word is that the hills in Buda will be easier to defend than here.”
“So you’re pulling all the way back there? What about this place?”
Tobias lowered his eyes.
“We’re going to carry on fighting, of course. But you need to be prepared. They will come.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I held onto the banister harder than ever.
“So even if an evacuation happens, there’s nowhere for us to go, is there?” I asked. My voice broke with terror.
Tobias just looked at me. His silent expression answered louder than any words. Then he took another step, standing closer than he ever had before.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to save someone, you know. Last March, I was in Frankfurt when the British bombed it. I helped dig through the rubble and pulled out a little girl. You remind me of her, in a way. Tougher than you look. Maybe even tougher than you know.”
“I’m not sure about that,” I admitted. “I’m trapped here as much as you are. And there’s no hope, is there?”
Tobias arched an eyebrow. “It’s slim. I won’t lie about that. But if all this fighting has taught me anything, it’s that there’s always hope. I’d be long dead if there wasn’t.”
“Don’t say that,” I snapped. “Don’t tempt fate.”
“I dance with her every day,” he replied, a tiny smirk curling his lips. “And I’m honoured to do that. It’s filthy work, but better this than to be a filthy coward. Like my brother.”
I blinked. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
Vitriol flashed across Tobias’s face like lightning.
“Edmund is his name. He’s a scientist; a fair bit older than me. He ran off to Switzerland, went into hiding. He’d rather waste time playing with his chemistry set and his stupid blood samples. But he’s working on important stuff. Unparalleled. I know there are officers looking for him, and when I get out of here, I’ll tell them exactly where he is.”
I didn’t know what to say. I’d never heard him speak with such vehemence.
I looked at his fingers. Dirt had worked into every line in his skin. How many lives had he taken? How many of those lives had tried to end his? Only twenty-six years old, and yet so nonchalant, so accepting of all this hellfire.
“But wouldn’t you like to get away?” I asked gently. “How much longer can this go on?”
“As long as it takes,” Tobias sighed. But I heard pain in his words, cutting through the heat. He sounded like me: a frightened youngster, trying to stay strong because the alternative was out of the question.
He reached out and touched my hand. I forced myself to stand still.
“I want to tell you something else,” he said, softer now. “I never needed to go to the market for bread and things. They always supplied us well enough. But I knew you were there. I knew there was a chance I might have seen you.”
I tried to swallow, but my throat had turned drier than sand. And before I could even think of speaking, Tobias leaned forward and kissed me.
Shock and exhilaration froze me to the spot. I tasted gunpowder, the salt of sweat and faint tang of tobacco. Then, mere seconds later, his lips lifted from mine.
“Goodbye, Nusi.”
By the time I looked up again, he was gone, the front door swinging shut behind him. I drew all the bolts and chains into place, and sank onto the floor.
*
Tobias was right. Only a couple of days later, Kerepesi Cemetery fell to the Russians. They were on our doorstep now; a stone’s throw from the offices. We huddled away from the windows as the fighting raged outside. I snatched sleep whenever I could, but the sound of the guns invaded my dreams. I’d never heard noise like it. Beneath the relentless explosions of shots and shells, there was cracking stone, roaring engines, agonised cries. Silence was a distant memory. My city was painted red, drowning in its own blood.
And we would drown, too. Slowly, insidiously, the enemy line slipped past us. That same night, I heard glass smashing on the lower floors, followed by heavy footsteps.
Miklós came running from the staircase. Anya, Sári and I didn’t need to be told what to do. We bolted towards the ventilation shaft.
I lifted Sári first, then Peter gave me a leg up and I shimmied through after her. It was horribly tight, like an elongated metal coffin, and stank of old asbestos, but I gritted my teeth and kept my eyes fixed on the hole at the other end. As soon as Anya and I slipped down, she closed the vent and pulled the two of us close on the bed.
“Keep quiet,” she whispered, terror breaking every syllable.
I put a hand over Sári’s mouth and listened as hard as I could. The room was small – one of the private offices – and Apa and the others had lined the walls with old curtains to dampen sound. Even the window was covered. The only open thing left was a cast iron fireplace. A tiny breeze whistled down it, and I caught the scents of soot and gunpowder.
On the other side of the wall, where we had been mere minutes before, the door burst open. I heard Apa’s voice, demure and placating. Furniture fell. The clang of metal was followed by happy laughter. The soldiers had found the emergency cupboard.
“Please, don’t!” cried Miklós.
They said something in Russian. It sounded like they were mimicking him. There was a yelp of pain, and a heavy thud. Had they hit him?
My blood boiled, but I didn’t dare move. I pulled Sári closer, to comfort myself as much as her. I’d never seen her or Anya look so frightened.
“Where are your women?” asked one of the soldiers. His Hungarian was thick and broken, but I still understood him, and my hair stood on end.
“We have no women,” replied Apa.
“You have clothes. Skirts.”
“I know. But they died. When all this started.”
“Really? You will have trouble if we find them.”
“I swear to you, it’s just the four of us. Please…”
I heard the smack of a fist meeting flesh, then knees hitting the floor. I gritted my teeth so hard, my whole face ached. I couldn’t cry out, couldn’t dare…
The footsteps spread around us, into the rest of the building. My eyes wandered to the door. I’d seen what Apa had done when I’d gone to fetch some of the stored water: a huge, heavy bookcase was pressed against the other side to conceal it from view. It was surrounded by similar bookcases; it looked like nothing out of the ordinary. I had to believe that would be enough.
The soldiers reached the adjacent room. Something toppled over. From the sound of it, I figured it was a chair. I held my breath, tried to press myself into the wall, wished I was anywhere but here.
And then, incredibly, they walked out. I didn’t relax my grip on Sári. I could still hear them moving about. As long as they were inside the building, we were in danger.
After what felt like an eternity, voices spoke again.
“See? We told you. It’s just us.”
“Lucky.”
“Please don’t take those things. They’re all we have.”
“They’re ours now.”
The soldiers switched back into Russian. They overturned more of the furniture, laughing and joking with each other. Their boots pounded on the staircase, then grew fainter, until silence finally fell.
Another few minutes dragged by, before Gellért’s face appeared in the shaft overhead.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Anya nodded. “Are they gone?”
“For now. But they might come back. I think you three should stay in here for tonight, to be on the safe side. I’ll bring some food and water through for you.”
“Did they hurt any of you?” I asked.
Gellért winced. “Miklós and Izsák took a punch each, but they’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
My stomach twisted into a solid knot of anger. As stupid as it was, I wanted to run after those men and beat them until they cowered. Even Gellért, who hadn’t been struck, looked pale with shock.
But he raised a good point. The danger was greater than it had ever been before, and we were lucky that this was the first time we’d had to shelter in the hidden room. One night with a wall between us and the others wouldn’t hurt.
Apa refused to take any chances, not even to let me help Gellért fetch supplies. I sat with Anya and Sári as two of Tobias’s soups were dropped down to us. I prised the lids off with a knife and we drank straight from the cans. It was cold and lumpy, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and we hadn’t eaten anything all day.
Slowly, the sunlight faded behind the curtain. We didn’t dare light a lamp, in case it was spotted from the street. With nothing better to do, we called goodnight through the vent, then the three of us curled up on the bed and tried to sleep. We pressed against each other to share body heat in the icy room, Sári between Anya and me. Anya fell asleep quickly, but nerves still gnawed at my belly, and the gunfire sounded louder than ever.
“Will they come back?” Sári whispered.
I wrapped my arms around her and stroked her hair.
“Don’t think about that.”
“What will they do to us?”
“Bad things. But they won’t. Because we’re safe in here. Apa made sure of it. Alright?”
She shuffled closer to me. “Will that soldier make sure of it, too?”
I closed my eyes and thought of Tobias. Where was he now? At the river? On the other side, in Buda? How many Hungarian and German troops were still in Pest?
“I hope so,” I muttered.
I tried to keep the weight out of my tone, but it still came, and Sári heard it. I kissed her on the forehead and hummed softly under my breath.
Soon, I was the only one still awake. I wished Tobias was here with us. Those Russians wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near the building if he had stayed. I didn’t even know where his division was now.
I recalled his kiss. It had happened so fast, I hadn’t known what I was expecting. But I played it over and over in my mind, determined to not forget anything about it. I’d been kissed before, when I was a teenager, but it was foolish and childlike; a game played in a time of innocence. The boy, Ferenc, had gone off to the invasion of Yugoslavia just a week later. I heard from his mother that he’d died on the first day.
Silence stretched around me; shaped itself into the four walls of the room. I felt suspended in a bubble, so close and yet so far from the Hell raging outside. How could things ever be normal again after all this? How could it have been so normal before?
I clung to my childhood memories like an anchor. The green fields outside the city stretching into the hazy horizon; the soft, mellow air of late summer, with the sunflowers dancing in the breeze and clouds rimmed with gold. The day Sári had been born, and I’d helped the midwife deliver her. Back then, in the short breathing space between the Wars, Hungary hadn’t been a paradise by any means, but the smallest pinch of sugar tasted so sweet.
Would I ever know that peace again? The First World War had lasted four years. This War had surpassed it now. How could everyone not have been horrified enough, to allow this to happen twice in such quick succession?
The more I thought about time, the more I lost sense of it. My eyes became heavy and I squinted out into the gloom. I tried to trace the patterns in the curtains, but it was too dark, so I instead focused on the fireplace, and a shudder wracked my entire body. In the day, the fixture hadn’t bothered me, but now, the shadows seemed to warp the moulded flowers, until the whole thing looked like a demonic face with a black maw open wide.
A pool of mist swept out of it. I watched lazily. Some dust had probably worked loose inside the flue. But still, something twisted inside me like a cold knife. It was dark in the grate. Too dark. Even the night sky wasn’t at black as that.
I thought I saw something move in the corner, like a living shadow. A firm pressure came down on my chest. I tried to move, but my limbs refused to respond. I felt as though I was turning to stone.
Before I could fight, my head rolled back. I was falling in slow motion, over and over, through clouds and water. A dream cocooned me in its security: the house I’d grown up in; playing with other children in the streets – children who were probably all dead now, shot or stabbed or blown to pieces.
I thought of Tobias’s face drawing closer as he kissed me. I could still feel his lips moulding around mine, so gentle… yet colder than I remembered. Freezing cold. Yet so real, like he was here in the room, bent over me…
A chill crept over my skin. Cobwebs ran dusty fingers across my face. The kiss ended, and I felt a sharp pain in my arm, like a razor had sliced me.
An almighty explosion shook the building. My eyes flew open. Anya and Sári woke up too, gasping with fright.
“What was that?” Sári cried.
“Stay there!” I snapped.
I ran to the window and drew the curtain back as much as I dared. At once, I saw what had happened, and my stomach flipped upside down.
The river was filled with rubble; the Chain Bridge enveloped in smoke. The only parts of it still standing were the towers, the suspension cables trailing on either side like broken limbs.
Tobias had said the German forces were retreating to Buda. They must have blown it up after them, to keep the Russians from following. But I knew something like this wouldn’t hold them for long. And to see that magnificent bridge reduced to ruins, a lump rose in my throat. I couldn’t think of a time in my life when I hadn’t crossed it. If they destroyed the Castle and Parliament Building as well, what would be left of Budapest?
I let the curtain fall, and told Anya and Sári what the noise had been. Even in the darkness, I saw the shine of pain in Anya’s eyes.
Then, as I lowered my hands, I spotted something else. There was a thin line just below the inside of my elbow, weeping blood. Had I scratched it in my sleep?
I inspected my fingernails. They were longer than I usually had them. That must have been the cause. But if that was the only injury I’d suffered so far, then I was one of the lucky ones.
And we would drown, too. Slowly, insidiously, the enemy line slipped past us. That same night, I heard glass smashing on the lower floors, followed by heavy footsteps.
Miklós came running from the staircase. Anya, Sári and I didn’t need to be told what to do. We bolted towards the ventilation shaft.
I lifted Sári first, then Peter gave me a leg up and I shimmied through after her. It was horribly tight, like an elongated metal coffin, and stank of old asbestos, but I gritted my teeth and kept my eyes fixed on the hole at the other end. As soon as Anya and I slipped down, she closed the vent and pulled the two of us close on the bed.
“Keep quiet,” she whispered, terror breaking every syllable.
I put a hand over Sári’s mouth and listened as hard as I could. The room was small – one of the private offices – and Apa and the others had lined the walls with old curtains to dampen sound. Even the window was covered. The only open thing left was a cast iron fireplace. A tiny breeze whistled down it, and I caught the scents of soot and gunpowder.
On the other side of the wall, where we had been mere minutes before, the door burst open. I heard Apa’s voice, demure and placating. Furniture fell. The clang of metal was followed by happy laughter. The soldiers had found the emergency cupboard.
“Please, don’t!” cried Miklós.
They said something in Russian. It sounded like they were mimicking him. There was a yelp of pain, and a heavy thud. Had they hit him?
My blood boiled, but I didn’t dare move. I pulled Sári closer, to comfort myself as much as her. I’d never seen her or Anya look so frightened.
“Where are your women?” asked one of the soldiers. His Hungarian was thick and broken, but I still understood him, and my hair stood on end.
“We have no women,” replied Apa.
“You have clothes. Skirts.”
“I know. But they died. When all this started.”
“Really? You will have trouble if we find them.”
“I swear to you, it’s just the four of us. Please…”
I heard the smack of a fist meeting flesh, then knees hitting the floor. I gritted my teeth so hard, my whole face ached. I couldn’t cry out, couldn’t dare…
The footsteps spread around us, into the rest of the building. My eyes wandered to the door. I’d seen what Apa had done when I’d gone to fetch some of the stored water: a huge, heavy bookcase was pressed against the other side to conceal it from view. It was surrounded by similar bookcases; it looked like nothing out of the ordinary. I had to believe that would be enough.
The soldiers reached the adjacent room. Something toppled over. From the sound of it, I figured it was a chair. I held my breath, tried to press myself into the wall, wished I was anywhere but here.
And then, incredibly, they walked out. I didn’t relax my grip on Sári. I could still hear them moving about. As long as they were inside the building, we were in danger.
After what felt like an eternity, voices spoke again.
“See? We told you. It’s just us.”
“Lucky.”
“Please don’t take those things. They’re all we have.”
“They’re ours now.”
The soldiers switched back into Russian. They overturned more of the furniture, laughing and joking with each other. Their boots pounded on the staircase, then grew fainter, until silence finally fell.
Another few minutes dragged by, before Gellért’s face appeared in the shaft overhead.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Anya nodded. “Are they gone?”
“For now. But they might come back. I think you three should stay in here for tonight, to be on the safe side. I’ll bring some food and water through for you.”
“Did they hurt any of you?” I asked.
Gellért winced. “Miklós and Izsák took a punch each, but they’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
My stomach twisted into a solid knot of anger. As stupid as it was, I wanted to run after those men and beat them until they cowered. Even Gellért, who hadn’t been struck, looked pale with shock.
But he raised a good point. The danger was greater than it had ever been before, and we were lucky that this was the first time we’d had to shelter in the hidden room. One night with a wall between us and the others wouldn’t hurt.
Apa refused to take any chances, not even to let me help Gellért fetch supplies. I sat with Anya and Sári as two of Tobias’s soups were dropped down to us. I prised the lids off with a knife and we drank straight from the cans. It was cold and lumpy, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and we hadn’t eaten anything all day.
Slowly, the sunlight faded behind the curtain. We didn’t dare light a lamp, in case it was spotted from the street. With nothing better to do, we called goodnight through the vent, then the three of us curled up on the bed and tried to sleep. We pressed against each other to share body heat in the icy room, Sári between Anya and me. Anya fell asleep quickly, but nerves still gnawed at my belly, and the gunfire sounded louder than ever.
“Will they come back?” Sári whispered.
I wrapped my arms around her and stroked her hair.
“Don’t think about that.”
“What will they do to us?”
“Bad things. But they won’t. Because we’re safe in here. Apa made sure of it. Alright?”
She shuffled closer to me. “Will that soldier make sure of it, too?”
I closed my eyes and thought of Tobias. Where was he now? At the river? On the other side, in Buda? How many Hungarian and German troops were still in Pest?
“I hope so,” I muttered.
I tried to keep the weight out of my tone, but it still came, and Sári heard it. I kissed her on the forehead and hummed softly under my breath.
Soon, I was the only one still awake. I wished Tobias was here with us. Those Russians wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near the building if he had stayed. I didn’t even know where his division was now.
I recalled his kiss. It had happened so fast, I hadn’t known what I was expecting. But I played it over and over in my mind, determined to not forget anything about it. I’d been kissed before, when I was a teenager, but it was foolish and childlike; a game played in a time of innocence. The boy, Ferenc, had gone off to the invasion of Yugoslavia just a week later. I heard from his mother that he’d died on the first day.
Silence stretched around me; shaped itself into the four walls of the room. I felt suspended in a bubble, so close and yet so far from the Hell raging outside. How could things ever be normal again after all this? How could it have been so normal before?
I clung to my childhood memories like an anchor. The green fields outside the city stretching into the hazy horizon; the soft, mellow air of late summer, with the sunflowers dancing in the breeze and clouds rimmed with gold. The day Sári had been born, and I’d helped the midwife deliver her. Back then, in the short breathing space between the Wars, Hungary hadn’t been a paradise by any means, but the smallest pinch of sugar tasted so sweet.
Would I ever know that peace again? The First World War had lasted four years. This War had surpassed it now. How could everyone not have been horrified enough, to allow this to happen twice in such quick succession?
The more I thought about time, the more I lost sense of it. My eyes became heavy and I squinted out into the gloom. I tried to trace the patterns in the curtains, but it was too dark, so I instead focused on the fireplace, and a shudder wracked my entire body. In the day, the fixture hadn’t bothered me, but now, the shadows seemed to warp the moulded flowers, until the whole thing looked like a demonic face with a black maw open wide.
A pool of mist swept out of it. I watched lazily. Some dust had probably worked loose inside the flue. But still, something twisted inside me like a cold knife. It was dark in the grate. Too dark. Even the night sky wasn’t at black as that.
I thought I saw something move in the corner, like a living shadow. A firm pressure came down on my chest. I tried to move, but my limbs refused to respond. I felt as though I was turning to stone.
Before I could fight, my head rolled back. I was falling in slow motion, over and over, through clouds and water. A dream cocooned me in its security: the house I’d grown up in; playing with other children in the streets – children who were probably all dead now, shot or stabbed or blown to pieces.
I thought of Tobias’s face drawing closer as he kissed me. I could still feel his lips moulding around mine, so gentle… yet colder than I remembered. Freezing cold. Yet so real, like he was here in the room, bent over me…
A chill crept over my skin. Cobwebs ran dusty fingers across my face. The kiss ended, and I felt a sharp pain in my arm, like a razor had sliced me.
An almighty explosion shook the building. My eyes flew open. Anya and Sári woke up too, gasping with fright.
“What was that?” Sári cried.
“Stay there!” I snapped.
I ran to the window and drew the curtain back as much as I dared. At once, I saw what had happened, and my stomach flipped upside down.
The river was filled with rubble; the Chain Bridge enveloped in smoke. The only parts of it still standing were the towers, the suspension cables trailing on either side like broken limbs.
Tobias had said the German forces were retreating to Buda. They must have blown it up after them, to keep the Russians from following. But I knew something like this wouldn’t hold them for long. And to see that magnificent bridge reduced to ruins, a lump rose in my throat. I couldn’t think of a time in my life when I hadn’t crossed it. If they destroyed the Castle and Parliament Building as well, what would be left of Budapest?
I let the curtain fall, and told Anya and Sári what the noise had been. Even in the darkness, I saw the shine of pain in Anya’s eyes.
Then, as I lowered my hands, I spotted something else. There was a thin line just below the inside of my elbow, weeping blood. Had I scratched it in my sleep?
I inspected my fingernails. They were longer than I usually had them. That must have been the cause. But if that was the only injury I’d suffered so far, then I was one of the lucky ones.
*
I lost count of how many times we scrambled through the vent. Sometimes, it turned out to be a false alarm, but whenever any noise came from downstairs, Apa would fling us into the hidden room. But the Russians must have realised that there was nothing in the building and, for the most part, decided to leave it alone.
The sky turned scarlet as the sun drew lower. The light bled across Sári’s dominoes, scattered over the floor. It was a day like so many others: the seven of us sitting in our usual places, listless pain forging lines in our flesh. Peter twisted the radio knobs, trying to discern news from the crackle of static. Apa paced incessantly and finger-combed his hair until it began to fall out. I fought the urge to fling my book out of the window. I had read it too many times now.
I wandered from room to room. I counted the seconds between the gunshots, like I’d used to do with thunderclaps. The brief flashes of silence were now the strangest of all. I would never know true silence again.
I opened the emergency cupboard. The candlesticks were gone, as was the cutlery and anything else which shone. The only item left was Peter’s painting. Too cumbersome to move, I supposed, and no real use to anybody. What soldier could hang that on his wall, or send it home to the middle of Russia?
I regarded it again. The glass in the frame had smashed, but the image itself was unharmed. The wings on the vampire’s back stood out as clear as day.
I shut the door. Twilight settled its icy blue cast over the city. The days were supposed to be getting longer, but I couldn’t really see it. It was February now. We’d spent forty-nine days hiding here. Were any of our houses still standing? Even if they were, I supposed they’d have been stripped of anything not bolted down.
Anya walked to the kitchen to begin cooking. She was thinner than before – we all were – and her dress hung loose over her arms. I glanced at my own clothes: an old peasant blouse and thick winter skirt. I’d practically lived in them both for the past few weeks. We couldn’t spare water to wash anything unnecessarily.
The thought of water made me glance at the pot near the stove. It was empty.
“How much do you need?” I asked.
Anya looked over her shoulder. “You don’t mind going?”
“I need to move about. How much?”
“Just half of that should be fine,” she replied, and passed me the pot.
“Do you need any help?” asked Sári.
I smiled at her. “I’ll be fine. You carry on playing. I won’t be long.”
I walked down the stairs to the third floor, where one of our last water stores filled an old office. The siege had to end soon, otherwise we’d have to venture outside and try to salvage some more.
My mouth was so dry, my tongue stuck to my teeth. I swallowed saliva in an attempt to relieve myself, but that only made me feel worse. When I reached the water store, I took a cheeky gulp before filling the pot. It was only a little, just enough to hold in my palm. Nothing had ever tasted so incredible.
I saw a bright flash in my peripheral vision. And then the explosion came.
The window shattered. A shockwave threw me across the room. I tumbled over a desk and hit the wall. I lay stunned, my ears ringing. There was water on my face. The air filled with dust, but I could smell fire, and gunpowder.
I moved all my limbs to check for breaks. Finding none, I forced myself to my feet. Blood streaked towards my fingers. The window glass had swept across my arm. I peered at the wound as though it was separate from me. None of the cuts were deep, and the spilled water was only making it look worse…
I staggered to the window to see what had happened. The entire street was a pile of rubble, and the school was ablaze. I’d never felt heat like it in my life. I doubled over, coughing on the smoke.
I remembered the Germans had stored ammunition in that place. Something had hit it. Exactly like Miklós had warned.
I gasped for breath. It was worse than being underwater. Every inhale held just enough oxygen to keep me upright, but my chest heaved with protest, as though I’d swallowed sparks. I needed to get away from here, before I passed out. The others might be hurt too; the building could be unstable now.
But before I turned away, my eye caught something below. The smoke parted, and revealed a carpet of bodies: Hungarians, Russians, Germans. One of them had red hair.
The moment stretched over eternity. My frantic heartbeat forgot itself. I was mistaken. I had to be. It couldn’t be…
Panic seized my entire body. I was on the third floor. The others were on the eighth. I was closer to the street than to the apartments. It might not even be Tobias, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t make sure. If it was him, if he was alive, I could get him inside and we could help him.
I ran for the stairs, and didn’t go up, but down. I reached the foyer, unlocked the front door, and emerged into Hell. Blood and cement dust swept into my nose and clung to my skin. I strained to see through my tears. This wasn’t the Budapest I knew. It was buried, too deep, too horrible…
“Tobias!” I screamed, but the roar of the fire ripped my voice away.
More shots split the air. Where were they coming from? My ears were ringing too badly to tell. I needed to find him, and fast. I couldn’t die here, or let the enemy find me. And what if there was still unexploded powder lying about?
I couldn’t think about that. I just needed to move.
I hurried towards the school, and almost fell over a body. It was a Hungarian soldier, his face a mass of raw flesh. Another appeared after him, all the corpses emerging out of the swirling black clouds like a macabre game of hide and seek. Everywhere ran red. I found limbs attached to nothing; jewellery with no sign of who had been wearing it.
“Tobias!” I cried again. “Answer me!”
My throat closed. I bent double and coughed so hard, my head spun.
“Nusi…”
I looked up. I’d heard that, I knew I had. But it wasn’t a shout. It was a whisper, and close to my ear, as though a ghost had breathed my name.
I spotted a light cutting through the smoke. I stumbled towards it, my arms outstretched like a blind person.
“Tobias?” I said again. “Are you hurt?”
There was no reply. My whole body trembled. How long had I been out here?
It didn’t matter. I needed to get to him. And he was near that light. I knew it, with more conviction than I’d felt in weeks. Right there, just a little further…
Rubble crunched under my feet. I felt the cool breeze sweeping in from the river. The damage wasn’t over this large an area, was it? Or was the fire dying down already?
I kept my eyes on the light. It seemed within reach one moment, only to move away the next. But it was so beautiful, as though it had been drawn out of myself and given form. I had to get to it, had to touch it.
Come closer, it seemed to murmur. Closer…
There was something underneath it. A hand. And behind that, obscured by the glow, a face.
I opened my mouth to shout. But before I could, a shadow flew towards me. The light burst out. An arm closed around my middle and my feet left the ground. Something hit my temple, and in an instant, everything went black.
The sky turned scarlet as the sun drew lower. The light bled across Sári’s dominoes, scattered over the floor. It was a day like so many others: the seven of us sitting in our usual places, listless pain forging lines in our flesh. Peter twisted the radio knobs, trying to discern news from the crackle of static. Apa paced incessantly and finger-combed his hair until it began to fall out. I fought the urge to fling my book out of the window. I had read it too many times now.
I wandered from room to room. I counted the seconds between the gunshots, like I’d used to do with thunderclaps. The brief flashes of silence were now the strangest of all. I would never know true silence again.
I opened the emergency cupboard. The candlesticks were gone, as was the cutlery and anything else which shone. The only item left was Peter’s painting. Too cumbersome to move, I supposed, and no real use to anybody. What soldier could hang that on his wall, or send it home to the middle of Russia?
I regarded it again. The glass in the frame had smashed, but the image itself was unharmed. The wings on the vampire’s back stood out as clear as day.
I shut the door. Twilight settled its icy blue cast over the city. The days were supposed to be getting longer, but I couldn’t really see it. It was February now. We’d spent forty-nine days hiding here. Were any of our houses still standing? Even if they were, I supposed they’d have been stripped of anything not bolted down.
Anya walked to the kitchen to begin cooking. She was thinner than before – we all were – and her dress hung loose over her arms. I glanced at my own clothes: an old peasant blouse and thick winter skirt. I’d practically lived in them both for the past few weeks. We couldn’t spare water to wash anything unnecessarily.
The thought of water made me glance at the pot near the stove. It was empty.
“How much do you need?” I asked.
Anya looked over her shoulder. “You don’t mind going?”
“I need to move about. How much?”
“Just half of that should be fine,” she replied, and passed me the pot.
“Do you need any help?” asked Sári.
I smiled at her. “I’ll be fine. You carry on playing. I won’t be long.”
I walked down the stairs to the third floor, where one of our last water stores filled an old office. The siege had to end soon, otherwise we’d have to venture outside and try to salvage some more.
My mouth was so dry, my tongue stuck to my teeth. I swallowed saliva in an attempt to relieve myself, but that only made me feel worse. When I reached the water store, I took a cheeky gulp before filling the pot. It was only a little, just enough to hold in my palm. Nothing had ever tasted so incredible.
I saw a bright flash in my peripheral vision. And then the explosion came.
The window shattered. A shockwave threw me across the room. I tumbled over a desk and hit the wall. I lay stunned, my ears ringing. There was water on my face. The air filled with dust, but I could smell fire, and gunpowder.
I moved all my limbs to check for breaks. Finding none, I forced myself to my feet. Blood streaked towards my fingers. The window glass had swept across my arm. I peered at the wound as though it was separate from me. None of the cuts were deep, and the spilled water was only making it look worse…
I staggered to the window to see what had happened. The entire street was a pile of rubble, and the school was ablaze. I’d never felt heat like it in my life. I doubled over, coughing on the smoke.
I remembered the Germans had stored ammunition in that place. Something had hit it. Exactly like Miklós had warned.
I gasped for breath. It was worse than being underwater. Every inhale held just enough oxygen to keep me upright, but my chest heaved with protest, as though I’d swallowed sparks. I needed to get away from here, before I passed out. The others might be hurt too; the building could be unstable now.
But before I turned away, my eye caught something below. The smoke parted, and revealed a carpet of bodies: Hungarians, Russians, Germans. One of them had red hair.
The moment stretched over eternity. My frantic heartbeat forgot itself. I was mistaken. I had to be. It couldn’t be…
Panic seized my entire body. I was on the third floor. The others were on the eighth. I was closer to the street than to the apartments. It might not even be Tobias, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t make sure. If it was him, if he was alive, I could get him inside and we could help him.
I ran for the stairs, and didn’t go up, but down. I reached the foyer, unlocked the front door, and emerged into Hell. Blood and cement dust swept into my nose and clung to my skin. I strained to see through my tears. This wasn’t the Budapest I knew. It was buried, too deep, too horrible…
“Tobias!” I screamed, but the roar of the fire ripped my voice away.
More shots split the air. Where were they coming from? My ears were ringing too badly to tell. I needed to find him, and fast. I couldn’t die here, or let the enemy find me. And what if there was still unexploded powder lying about?
I couldn’t think about that. I just needed to move.
I hurried towards the school, and almost fell over a body. It was a Hungarian soldier, his face a mass of raw flesh. Another appeared after him, all the corpses emerging out of the swirling black clouds like a macabre game of hide and seek. Everywhere ran red. I found limbs attached to nothing; jewellery with no sign of who had been wearing it.
“Tobias!” I cried again. “Answer me!”
My throat closed. I bent double and coughed so hard, my head spun.
“Nusi…”
I looked up. I’d heard that, I knew I had. But it wasn’t a shout. It was a whisper, and close to my ear, as though a ghost had breathed my name.
I spotted a light cutting through the smoke. I stumbled towards it, my arms outstretched like a blind person.
“Tobias?” I said again. “Are you hurt?”
There was no reply. My whole body trembled. How long had I been out here?
It didn’t matter. I needed to get to him. And he was near that light. I knew it, with more conviction than I’d felt in weeks. Right there, just a little further…
Rubble crunched under my feet. I felt the cool breeze sweeping in from the river. The damage wasn’t over this large an area, was it? Or was the fire dying down already?
I kept my eyes on the light. It seemed within reach one moment, only to move away the next. But it was so beautiful, as though it had been drawn out of myself and given form. I had to get to it, had to touch it.
Come closer, it seemed to murmur. Closer…
There was something underneath it. A hand. And behind that, obscured by the glow, a face.
I opened my mouth to shout. But before I could, a shadow flew towards me. The light burst out. An arm closed around my middle and my feet left the ground. Something hit my temple, and in an instant, everything went black.
*
Pain swept over me. I stiffened against it, trying to brace against the onslaught which would come with awakening.
I was lying on my back, on a very hard, cold surface. I explored it with my fingertips, and recognised the roughness of carved stone. I breathed in and coughed. It wasn’t from smoke, but from dust: a wet, musty kind, which tasted of old earth and mould.
My ears still hissed, like the static from Peter’s radio, but I heard the explosions. They were distant, further away than I’d thought, and muffled, as though I was hearing them through water.
I opened my eyes to darkness. I was in a circular room with a domed ceiling, broken only by a few stray roots. Squares lined the walls, but they weren’t windows. I couldn’t see a single trace of the sun. The only light source came from a single candle near my feet.
This wasn’t Apa’s building. It wasn’t even the street outside. Where the Hell was I?
Someone walked towards me. I twisted around with fright.
“Tobias?” I said uncertainly.
“No.”
A man appeared out of the gloom. The candle was too far away to see him properly, but I noticed a black suit and black hair. He held something to my lips. I sensed water and drank greedily. When the cup was empty, he turned his attention to my shredded arm.
I gasped at his touch. He was colder than ice.
“You were lucky,” he remarked. “No damage to your major blood vessels.”
“Are you a doctor?” I mumbled. “Who are you? Where am I?”
I sat up. Even that simple movement made my head whirl. I pitched forward, but he caught me before I could fall.
“Slowly,” he said. “We have time.”
His voice sounded strange. I could tell straightaway that he wasn’t a Russian – he was from Budapest, like me. The words were perfectly pronounced, the way I’d heard elderly people talk: the ones who had been born in the last century. But he wasn’t old. He only looked about the same age as Tobias.
Tobias.
I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, trying to make myself focus. There was a door. And those squares were everywhere, around the entire room. Each one bore a small plaque in its centre.
Then I glanced down, at the thing I was sitting on. It was a giant slab, the size of a bed, decorated with ferns and angel wings. Right beside me, between myself and the candle, were words. I couldn’t read them all – my leg covered half of the carving – but I did spot one clearly.
I was lying on my back, on a very hard, cold surface. I explored it with my fingertips, and recognised the roughness of carved stone. I breathed in and coughed. It wasn’t from smoke, but from dust: a wet, musty kind, which tasted of old earth and mould.
My ears still hissed, like the static from Peter’s radio, but I heard the explosions. They were distant, further away than I’d thought, and muffled, as though I was hearing them through water.
I opened my eyes to darkness. I was in a circular room with a domed ceiling, broken only by a few stray roots. Squares lined the walls, but they weren’t windows. I couldn’t see a single trace of the sun. The only light source came from a single candle near my feet.
This wasn’t Apa’s building. It wasn’t even the street outside. Where the Hell was I?
Someone walked towards me. I twisted around with fright.
“Tobias?” I said uncertainly.
“No.”
A man appeared out of the gloom. The candle was too far away to see him properly, but I noticed a black suit and black hair. He held something to my lips. I sensed water and drank greedily. When the cup was empty, he turned his attention to my shredded arm.
I gasped at his touch. He was colder than ice.
“You were lucky,” he remarked. “No damage to your major blood vessels.”
“Are you a doctor?” I mumbled. “Who are you? Where am I?”
I sat up. Even that simple movement made my head whirl. I pitched forward, but he caught me before I could fall.
“Slowly,” he said. “We have time.”
His voice sounded strange. I could tell straightaway that he wasn’t a Russian – he was from Budapest, like me. The words were perfectly pronounced, the way I’d heard elderly people talk: the ones who had been born in the last century. But he wasn’t old. He only looked about the same age as Tobias.
Tobias.
I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, trying to make myself focus. There was a door. And those squares were everywhere, around the entire room. Each one bore a small plaque in its centre.
Then I glanced down, at the thing I was sitting on. It was a giant slab, the size of a bed, decorated with ferns and angel wings. Right beside me, between myself and the candle, were words. I couldn’t read them all – my leg covered half of the carving – but I did spot one clearly.
MIRRIAM
I stopped breathing. It was a sarcophagus. I was in a crypt.
I leapt onto my feet. I wanted to back away, but panicked at the thought of touching the wall. There were bodies all around me…
The man watched me. He looked familiar, somehow.
“Where am I?” I repeated, trying to make myself sound braver than I felt.
“Where does it look like you are?” he said. “You are home.”
Fear wrapped around my throat like a cord.
“I need to go. This is not my home. I have a family, and they’re waiting for me.”
“They died a long time ago, my dear. You told me that yourself. Do you understand?”
The man stepped around the sarcophagus. As he passed the candle, its glow lit up his face. He was unbelievably handsome, but coldness had bitten his features, and the eyes which stared into mine were as black as night.
I suddenly realised where I knew him from. I’d run into him on Christmas Eve, when I was crossing the bridge.
I needed to get out. My brain flooded with panic. What was he going to do to me? My parents and Sári flash before my eyes. Had they come looking for me when I hadn’t returned with the water? And Tobias… Had that really been him, lying dead in the street?
I bolted for the door. I pulled at it frantically, but it wouldn’t budge. It felt as though it had been welded shut. I banged on it with my palm. The echo bounced off the walls and thrummed in my ears. The battle overhead drowned out all other sounds.
The man watched with an unreadable expression.
“Please let me go,” I said, hating the tremble in my voice.
He walked towards me. My knees knocked together. I wanted to run again, but where could I go?
He reached out, and I recoiled. His fingers were as just as pale as his face, and the nails were long and pointed, like bird talons. He’d been wearing gloves when he helped me through the crowd; I hadn’t seen them. And they were the same fingers which had hovered under the light.
His hand brushed my cheek. I flinched. I’d never felt anything so cold.
“You are safer here than you ever would be above ground. Surely you understand that.”
“I need to go back to my family.”
“Your family is here.”
I pressed my lips together. I worried that if I parted them, my heart would leap out of my mouth.
“What are you talking about?” I cried. “I have a little sister! She’s waiting for me!”
“There was never a sister, my dear,” he said firmly. “There was only ever you and me.”
Before I could react, he leaned in and kissed me. I tried to push him off, but he held me fast. His lips were soft, like Tobias’s, but deathly cold. I tasted something metallic, like old meat. Then a force like a gale struck my chest, working down my arms. I couldn’t move them, not even an inch.
I’d felt this pressure before. And these lips. In the hidden room.
My panic reached its height. I did the only thing I could think of, and bit.
He leapt away with a cry. I tried the door again, and screamed so loud, my throat burned. I had to get out, even if I ran into a battleground…
Suddenly, my feet left the floor. I froze with fright. There was nothing holding me, and yet there was – I felt it constricting around me like a corset, pinning me in the air. It spun me into the wall, and pressed so hard, I thought my ribs might break.
The man glared at me. Flecks of blood traced his lip.
I whimpered. No. This was no man.
“Help!” I screamed. “Someone, please! Help!”
One of my arms flew above my head. I raised a leg and went to kick, but he sidestepped, and pulled my sleeve down. I watched with horror as he locked his mouth over my skin, just above the old scratch. I felt teeth, so sharp that for a moment, I thought they were razors.
Black spots flickered at the edge of my vision. My fingers tingled as though I’d stung them with nettles. I was going to faint. No, I couldn’t… I needed to fight, needed to get away…
My entire body was leaden. It took all my energy to stay awake. I thought of Sári, playing with her dominoes…
The man drew back, looked straight at me, and swallowed.
“What are you?” I whispered.
“I would have thought it apparent by now, my dear.”
“This isn’t real…”
“Oh, it is. This is all which is real. This is all we need, Mirriam.”
The pressure melted away. I went to run, but I was too weak, and stumbled over my own feet. The man caught me, and laid me on the sarcophagus. When I tried to sit, he pushed me back down and licked the blood off my skin.
“Let me go,” I begged. “I won’t tell anybody you’re here, or what you are. Just let me go back to my family. Please…”
He silenced me with another kiss. And this time, I was too weak to fight.
Somewhere far overhead, the explosions of battle cut off everything else. Just like before, I was sealed in a bubble, separate from all I knew. But now, I was alone, not above the horror, but beneath it, sealed in a room of death under the earth. And now, deep in my gut, I knew it wouldn’t burst, even if the War were to end tomorrow.
I thought of Sári and my sweet Tobias. Would they ever find out what had happened to me?
“Help…” I gasped.
But nothing answered, and nobody came.
I leapt onto my feet. I wanted to back away, but panicked at the thought of touching the wall. There were bodies all around me…
The man watched me. He looked familiar, somehow.
“Where am I?” I repeated, trying to make myself sound braver than I felt.
“Where does it look like you are?” he said. “You are home.”
Fear wrapped around my throat like a cord.
“I need to go. This is not my home. I have a family, and they’re waiting for me.”
“They died a long time ago, my dear. You told me that yourself. Do you understand?”
The man stepped around the sarcophagus. As he passed the candle, its glow lit up his face. He was unbelievably handsome, but coldness had bitten his features, and the eyes which stared into mine were as black as night.
I suddenly realised where I knew him from. I’d run into him on Christmas Eve, when I was crossing the bridge.
I needed to get out. My brain flooded with panic. What was he going to do to me? My parents and Sári flash before my eyes. Had they come looking for me when I hadn’t returned with the water? And Tobias… Had that really been him, lying dead in the street?
I bolted for the door. I pulled at it frantically, but it wouldn’t budge. It felt as though it had been welded shut. I banged on it with my palm. The echo bounced off the walls and thrummed in my ears. The battle overhead drowned out all other sounds.
The man watched with an unreadable expression.
“Please let me go,” I said, hating the tremble in my voice.
He walked towards me. My knees knocked together. I wanted to run again, but where could I go?
He reached out, and I recoiled. His fingers were as just as pale as his face, and the nails were long and pointed, like bird talons. He’d been wearing gloves when he helped me through the crowd; I hadn’t seen them. And they were the same fingers which had hovered under the light.
His hand brushed my cheek. I flinched. I’d never felt anything so cold.
“You are safer here than you ever would be above ground. Surely you understand that.”
“I need to go back to my family.”
“Your family is here.”
I pressed my lips together. I worried that if I parted them, my heart would leap out of my mouth.
“What are you talking about?” I cried. “I have a little sister! She’s waiting for me!”
“There was never a sister, my dear,” he said firmly. “There was only ever you and me.”
Before I could react, he leaned in and kissed me. I tried to push him off, but he held me fast. His lips were soft, like Tobias’s, but deathly cold. I tasted something metallic, like old meat. Then a force like a gale struck my chest, working down my arms. I couldn’t move them, not even an inch.
I’d felt this pressure before. And these lips. In the hidden room.
My panic reached its height. I did the only thing I could think of, and bit.
He leapt away with a cry. I tried the door again, and screamed so loud, my throat burned. I had to get out, even if I ran into a battleground…
Suddenly, my feet left the floor. I froze with fright. There was nothing holding me, and yet there was – I felt it constricting around me like a corset, pinning me in the air. It spun me into the wall, and pressed so hard, I thought my ribs might break.
The man glared at me. Flecks of blood traced his lip.
I whimpered. No. This was no man.
“Help!” I screamed. “Someone, please! Help!”
One of my arms flew above my head. I raised a leg and went to kick, but he sidestepped, and pulled my sleeve down. I watched with horror as he locked his mouth over my skin, just above the old scratch. I felt teeth, so sharp that for a moment, I thought they were razors.
Black spots flickered at the edge of my vision. My fingers tingled as though I’d stung them with nettles. I was going to faint. No, I couldn’t… I needed to fight, needed to get away…
My entire body was leaden. It took all my energy to stay awake. I thought of Sári, playing with her dominoes…
The man drew back, looked straight at me, and swallowed.
“What are you?” I whispered.
“I would have thought it apparent by now, my dear.”
“This isn’t real…”
“Oh, it is. This is all which is real. This is all we need, Mirriam.”
The pressure melted away. I went to run, but I was too weak, and stumbled over my own feet. The man caught me, and laid me on the sarcophagus. When I tried to sit, he pushed me back down and licked the blood off my skin.
“Let me go,” I begged. “I won’t tell anybody you’re here, or what you are. Just let me go back to my family. Please…”
He silenced me with another kiss. And this time, I was too weak to fight.
Somewhere far overhead, the explosions of battle cut off everything else. Just like before, I was sealed in a bubble, separate from all I knew. But now, I was alone, not above the horror, but beneath it, sealed in a room of death under the earth. And now, deep in my gut, I knew it wouldn’t burst, even if the War were to end tomorrow.
I thought of Sári and my sweet Tobias. Would they ever find out what had happened to me?
“Help…” I gasped.
But nothing answered, and nobody came.
With respect to the memories of all who fought, fell and endured in the Siege of Budapest of 1944-1945.