Are we there yet?” Sarah’s slurred little voice barely reached the front. “That’s twenty-seven,” Lieutenant Brodsky said, turning around. He saw deep into Sarah’s yawning mouth. “Oh, excuse me,” she said as the yawn faded. “Oh, my neck. It’s stiff, I think my head weighs more than my body.” “It probably does. We’ll have to fatten you up.” He smiled and touched her hair. “You look rested, believe it or not.” “Where are we?” “Dessau. About a hundred clicks from Berlin. On the river Elbe. We’re waiting in line. There’s a holdup on the bridge.” “How far to go?” “By the way, that’s twenty-seven,” Brodsky said. “I’ve been counting.” Sarah leaned out and sucked air as deeply as she could. The din was deafening: engines roaring, gears crashing, people yelling, but the night was fresh and the wind was cold on her cheeks.
