Free Crack of Doom by Willi Heinrich Page B

but God knows when."
    "It goes beyond Jelnice?"
    "Right to Kosice."
    "Does it, by God!" said Kolodzi, massaging his numbed fingers and holding them near the stove. "Can't you stop it?"
    The signalman laughed. "What d'you think?—there's no stop here. Are you in a hurry?"
    "I’ll say I am. I live in Kosice, and they suddenly gave me home leave on compassionate grounds. Only I've got to be back in Oviz by this evening. We're supposed to be looking for partisans there."
    "If it were only up to me," said the man. "One might try to stop the plow. But I'm sure my partner won't agree. We don't get along too well. He's out on the line now."
    "I believe I met him," Kolodzi said. "With a lamp. I tried to talk to him but he wouldn't stop."
    "I'm not surprised," nodded the signalman. "You don't know how careful we have to be. All the locals here are in with the partisans. And they put only two of us up here, it's crazy. We hardly ever get any sleep."
    Kolodzi glanced at his unshaven face and noticed for the first time how pale and bleary-eyed he looked. At that instant the door flew open to show a tall man, who stooped to come in, with a gaunt face and piercing eyes, his coat heavy with snow. He slammed the door behind him and stared at Kolodzi who suppressed an immediate feeling of antipathy and exclaimed, forcing a smile: "Ah, so there you are. A moment ago you wouldn't even talk to me."
    The man went on staring at him. "That was you, was it? What do you want here?" He took off his great-coat and went on, not waiting for an answer: "You can't spend the night here. We've no room and besides it's against regulations."
    "I don't want to. I only wanted to ask about trains."
    "The station's at Jelnice," the man said in a surly voice. He sat down on the chair which Kolodzi had been occupying. His partner began to explain. "He's got compassionate leave till tonight, his people live in Kosice. But he has to be back in Oviz by this evening."
    The man stared at Kolodzi.
    "Compassionate leave, eh? Got a leave pass?"
    "Want to see it?" Kolodzi asked, as calmly as possible.
    "He's shown me his paybook," the first signalman hastily put in, "and it's quite in order. Perhaps the plow can take him?"
    "It doesn't stop here," the tall man rapped out. "How can you say that it might take him?"
    "I only said perhaps," the other defended himself.
    It was obvious that the tall man was in command and Kolodzi decided to lose no more time. He rose and picked up his gun. There seemed no further point in hiding his feelings so he turned to the tall man and shouted: "Lucky there aren't many like you. I'd prefer a Gestapo man."
    "Well, we can always fetch one. Let's see your leave pass."
    "What d'you mean?"
    "I want to see your leave pass," repeated the tall man, reaching for the pistol which the other had put down on the table.
    Kolodzi calmly lifted his gun, pushed back the safety catch with his thumb, and aimed the barrel at the man. "Here it is," he said. "No need to get excited. This isn't a question of leave passes, it's a question of principle. Where should we be if every railwayman could ask to see your leave passes, get me? And I'd put that pistol down if I were you," he told the tall man whose face had turned dead white. He dropped the pistol.
    "That's better," said Kolodzi, backing to the door. "You'll never make a good Gestapo man," he added and then stumbled down the dark staircase.
    At the bottom of the stairs his foot hit something. He bent down and felt a lantern and without stopping to think picked it up and took it with him.
    Outside the wind had now increased, but it was still behind him and the snow was not falling so thickly now; the lantern, however, felt very heavy on his arm.
    He set off in the direction of Jelnice, keeping on the right side of the rails. Looking around he saw dozens of trees lying all over the wood. Their bases were mostly jagged like broken glass, and only a few had been uprooted bodily. He knew about this; when it was