Eva gazed at them, hoping against hope to see Tibor. Since Big Tibor’s death he had been the centre of her life. Without him, there was nothing, no hope, no meaning, no purpose for her.
She crouched in a doorway. A sniper’s bullet aimed at the Soviet soldiers caught her in the neck, and she died in the entrance of the building where Tibor himself had been shot dead earlier that night, but not knowing that she was so near him.
Dodi drove his lorry carefully but as fast as he could through the dawn, through the morning. Some of the youngest children sang, and their parents encouraged them. For them it was like an unexpected day off school in the late Indian summer.
Sweat dripped down Dodi’s face. The engine roared and groaned. The driving cab was stifling. Dodi was also consumed by fear f
