I left the basket where it was and scrambled back toward the house, crying, "Papa!" He must have already seen them, for he and my mother were frantically moving about the kitchen, placing small wrapped packages inside Papa's traveling sack. Why should they care about that right now? The soldiers were almost here! "Did they see you?" Papa asked. "I -- I don't know." "Go with your mother out the back door. You've got to run!" I stared at him, barely understanding his words. "Run? Where?" "Get to the forest. Hurry!" I grabbed his hand, my fingers trembling . . . No, that was his hand shaking in fear. My father wasn't afraid of anything, had never been afraid before, not until now. He steered me toward the back door, but I kept pulling him with me, crying, "Let's all go together!" "I can't, Audra." He drew in a sharp breath. "I'm going to stall the soldiers here, give you and your mother a chance to get away. Don't you come back, don't you even look back. Now go!" He grabbed his shoulder bag from the table and gave it to my mother. She slung it over one arm, then put a hand on my back and pushed me forward, running behind me. We had a small yard and our farmland lay beyond that. It'd be a long run across those fields before we reached the forest. My father couldn't possibly stall long enough for us to make it all that distance. Even as I ran, I heard the soldiers break down our front door and shout orders in Russian. But before I heard my father's reply, Mama and I were already crossing the farmland. I was faster, so I didn't realize at first that Mama had fallen. When I heard her call my name, I turned to see her foot had become tangled in some low-hanging wire for our climbing plants. "No, Audra," she cried. "Keep running!" Excerpted from Words on Fire by Jennifer A. Nielsen All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
