Karol turned his head toward her. “You’re in shock, you know. Not just cold, but shock.” He put a protective arm around her.
“I have nowhere else to go. Look at you—you can make a fire with the simplest of things. You know how to shoot. You’ve trained with the military. And I am absolutely certain that you will find the rest of the group by end of tomorrow.” She began to doubt her earlier resolve. “You should just leave me here. I’m utterly useless.”
“You’re not.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Besides, I didn’t know a lot of this before I went into the military. I had to learn it. And I can teach you.”
She stared into the flames, her body still shaking. “I want to find Samuel.”
“It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack, Magda.” Karol removed his arm. The sensation left a vacuum in her. He turned to her, his legs folded beneath him. “If we can turn this war around, then we can figure out how—and whether—we can find any of our loved ones. But this war…” He shook his head. “It’s dog eat dog.”
They were silent for a while, and he turned back to the fire.
Slowly her body relaxed, and the shivering and chattering grew less frequent. After a while, and not worrying what he might think, she said, “I just wanted to leave a mark, you know? On the child. Maybe I was getting back at the world. I know what it’s like to be judged by only my physical traits—I’ve known it all my life.”
Karol nodded beside her. “So it was vengeance.”
Magda sighed. “I wasn’t thinking of that. I was thinking that Robert—that’s the boy’s name, Robert—Robert should not become one of them.” She took in another deep breath and held it, one more shiver, and then her body let go of everything and she was exceptionally sleepy. She closed her eyes. “Someone sees my face, and immediately they think something is wrong with me. Some have gone so far as to call me a witch! As if we live in medieval times.”
Karol huffed. “Yeah. I think we do.”
“Now my nose is crooked, and I have this hideous scar beneath my eye.” She laughed a little. “Now those people truly have a reason to call me a hag. All I need is a wart.”
Karol gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“A woman who has money will mark herself as rich by what she wears, by a fancy hairdo. I’m obviously a farm girl by the clothes I wear, and so anyone who sees me knows which class to put me into. Are these the things that define us really? Differentiate us from the good and the bad?”
Karol scratched his chin. “I don’t think that evil can be identified by appearances. Genuine ugliness is born of fear, and fear is orchestrated by circumstances. And when fear takes the soul over, occupies it, owns it, well, here we are.”
“All I ever wanted,” Magda whispered, “was to be able to go back and have things be as they were. I never wanted to change anything, not even with Robert, really.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I was afraid. And I got people killed because of it.”
Karol’s breath hitched, and Magda opened her eyes to him.
“I’m terrified of becoming a monster after this war,” he said.
Magda searched his face. “I am too.”
He reached for her. She went to him.
IV
April 1945–September 1945
14
April 1945
Magda balanced the penny onto the barrel as close to the muzzle as possible. She assumed a good stance, her feet spread apart approximately the same width as her shoulders. She aimed between the two aspen and at her target.
Karol narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Are you sure the chamber is empty?”
Magda directed her sight on him. “I think so.” She pulled the trigger. The penny fell. “Damn it!”
Karol gave her a gracious smile and walked over, picked up the penny, and took the gun out of her hand. “Dry firing is hard work. You were pushing into the gun. You’re anticipating recoil. Remember, we’re building muscle memory here. No recoil to worry about, and it’s not a rifle.”
Magda wiped her brow. Killing a man at close range. Karol had insisted they practice this, but targeting him—particularly him—was over the line.
He must have sensed her hesitation. “I told you, if you can do this aiming the gun at me, and I’d like to believe you still hold some affection in your heart for me, you’ll be able to do it to someone you’re really angry with.”
Magda rolled her eyes. “You seem so sure I’d never have any reason to shoot you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Cold and calculating. Did I create this? What did I do now?”
“I saw how your eyes bugged out when that Svetlana joined the force.” Magda cupped her hands before her breasts and puckered her lips.
Karol laughed. “I had no idea you were a jealous vixen, but I should have guessed with that red hair of yours.”
“It’s not red,” Magda said. “And I’m not jealous.” She took the gun and the penny back from him. One thing she had become good at was camouflaging her true feelings with jokes. Jokes filled the holes.
Karol took up his position once more. “Again.”
Magda aimed and squeezed the trigger a second time, working away at the pull until it broke. “Bang!” She broke her sight on target. The penny was still on the barrel.
“That’s it,” Karol said. “Steady hands. Perfect squeeze. Make sure to keep that finger in the optimal position. Again.”
Magda licked her lips. In her left periphery, Taras appeared on the
