Heroes by David Hagberg (reading cloud ebooks TXT) 📗

got a sleeping compartment to ourselves.”

“To where, Bobby?”

“We’ll be in Chicago by tomorrow morning, and Manhattan by Sunday morning, early.”

“New York?” she said loudly, in surprise. She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “Why New York? Are you crazy? The , place is crawling with FBI.” I “That’s where-my contact is located.”

“Like your Santa Fe contact? Is it going to be the same?”

“I don’t know …” (

“And if it is, so what then? What’s he going to do for us?

Give us new identities? Change our faces? Change our fingerprints?”

“I suppose we’ll take a car to Canada, and from there an airplane to Greenland, and then home.”

Eva’s eyes widened. The enormity of what he was saying suddenly struck her. “Home,” she repeated softly. “Oh, Bobby. The war is lost. Given half the chance, the Russians will overrun - ‘ Germany. When that happens, it won’t be very nice.” She shook her head. “Christ, you said it yourself.”

Schey took her hands. “When we get to Europe, I’m going to get you to Switzerland. You can stay there until it’s over.” ‘

“Switzerland? … What the hell do I know about Switzerland?”

“You don’t have to know a thing, other than it is very pleasant ‘ and you will be safe. No one will hurt you there. And we have plenty of money.” [

“Bobby, for Christ’s sake, what are you talking about?” she said. “I don’t want to go to Europe. But if I’m going across with you, I’m not going to run off to the mountains to wait it out , while God only knows what’s happening to you.”

They’d work it out later. Schey knew that when it came right down to it, she would do as he told her_JIe had been with her long enough to understand that, although from time to time she | was able to hold up a tough-guy facade, she was mostly a lonely, frightened little girl who desperately wanted love and direction.

He would give her both. In abundance.

They had their breakfast, and Schey read the newspaper afterwards. There was nothing about them. He hadn’t thought there would be, but he had to check. They went down to their train by nine-thirty, but before they went through the gates, Schey held | back for five minutes, watching the people coming and going, watching the ticket takers.

There were a lot of soldiers around, and pairs of military policemen, with their helmets and armbands, looking for deserters and troublesome soldiers. But there were no cops. No suspicious-looking civilians. No one paying much attention to anything at the ticket barriers other than the tickets.

He and Eva went through with no trouble, found their car, and inside, the porter helped them with their bags to their compartment.

He was a black man. Short and very squat. He showed them how to use the tiny sink and told them the toilet was down the corridor. He promised that whenever they were ready to turn in tonight, he would be by to pull down their beds and make them ready.

“Lunch is from eleven-thirty until one-thirty, dinner from five-thirty to eight-thirty. The club car opens at noon and closes whenever the last dog dies.”

The man reminded Schey of Rochester on The Jack Benny Show. But then, all Afrikaners sounded that way to him.

Schey tried to give the porter a tip, but the man turned it away.

“You’ve never traveled on a train before?”

Schey shrugged. What the hell had he done? “Never first class,” he said. “It’s sort of our … second honeymoon.”

“Well … bless my soul. I’ll bring you folks back a little surprise later this evening. Just you wait and see.” The porter laughed. He glanced at Eva and nodded his approval. “Yessiree.

But if you think I deserve a tip, why you just wait until we hit Chi-town; then you do whatever you think is best.”

Eva was laughing so hard when the porter left that she doubled over and fell back on the settee.

“Oh Christ,” she said through her tears. It was the terrible tension they had been under. It had been released in her. “Spies get caught by porter in Denver,” she choked.

Schey did not see the humor; he knew only that he had screwed up with the man. If and when the FBI came around to checking the trains out of Denver, it would be just the kind of thing they’d be looking for.

“Any of your passengers seem to be unsure of themselves?

Any of them make a mistake about tickets, or destinations, or tipping?”

Schey felt a glow of well-being, although he was terribly tired and understood that the most difficult part of their escape would come in New York City. But he and Eva had had a lovely dinner in the dining car, and later, back in their compartment, the surprise the porter had promised them was a bottle of champagne.

A token for the honeymooners. The champagne was out of the porter’s private stock. He was a pro, and probably made more in tips than in salary because of the extra niceties.

Schey lay on his back, his eyes closed, feeling the steady rhythm of the moving train, listening to the soothing clatter of the wheels on the tracks.

They had leisurely finished the wine while they talked, mostly about Eva’s past in Wisconsin. She had been raised by her German immigrant grandparents who were fishermen on Lake Michigan. It had been an idealistic life for her, and there were times, she admitted, when she was truly sorry she had grown up.

Schey listened to her with one part of his mind, the gentle words flowing around him, while with another he thought about his own childhood that had begun with hatred for what the Allies had done to Germany after the First World War, then with idealistic hope and expectation for what the future would bring under the leadership of their Fiinrer.

Where had it all gone wrong for them, he wondered now, lying in bed. Eva was washing her face at the little sink. Only the