ravine, we threaded our way between trees, using the underbrush to hide our tracks.
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Andrzej stumbled, losing his grasp on my hand for a second. Thrown off balance, struggling to keep from falling into the abyss below, I plummeted out of reach. Rolling down the steep incline, I grabbed at tree branches to break my fall as they ripped the mittens from my hands. Biting my tongue, I splashed into a stream with no cushion but ice-covered boulders. The silence of the night shrank. Icy water crept into my clothes. Our ears pricked up for the sound of rudely woken dogs in the nearby kennels. There was the sound of water dripping off my elbows. Neither of us dared move or breathe. No dogs barked.
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Finally, Andrzej signaled for me to stand up. Slowly, bracing my hands against the river rocks, I stood. My legs were barely able to stand my weight, they were shaking so badly with cold and fear. Grabbing hold of a tree for an anchor, Andrzej reached toward me. My nails dug into his flesh. My muscles shuddered, but he didn't weaken as I forced myself up the embankment. Finally I stood on level ground. His hands rubbed mine, trying to warm them as I clamped my mouth shut to muffle the chattering of my teeth. He smiled, knowing how wet and cold I was, then, taking my hand more firmly than before, he led me toward our destination.
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The light from the farmhouse seemed at first to be a mirage. I was sure I was dreaming; it was late, one or two in the morning, but there were these gorgeous lights shimmering out across the snow. Andrzej motioned me toward the stable. There, snuggling between the horses and cows, we waited.
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"This is the connecting point between the Slovakian and Polish undergrounds," he whispered into my ear. I nodded, knowing we were now safe.
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They were greeted by a farmer who boasted about his poker game with the border guards, and his wife, who served them hot cocoa and gave Rena some dry clothes. The farmer, Karl, assumed that Rena and Andrzej would sleep together, but Andrzej assured him
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