Berlin Wolf Read Online Free

busy ports with essential cargo for the war effort.
    It had now been some time since they had last heard any sign of movement above. Peter felt as sure as he could that they were no longer being hunted.
    â€˜Looks like we’ll have to swim back to the bank.’ He shivered as he resigned himself to the unpleasant prospect.
    The thought of re-entering the icy water was daunting. There was no other option. This time however he would ensure that his clothing would not drag him under. He stripped to his underwear, rolled his clothing in a tight bundle and with one sleeve tied the makeshift knapsack to his satchel.
    â€˜Sit Wolfi!’ Peter ordered. His voice tremored with cold and anticipation.
    The dog sat obediently whilst Peter removed Wolfi’s homemade coat. Being waterproof it had absorbed little water. The only additional weight was from the jewels sewn into the lining. He tied the coat to the sizeable bundle and began swinging his arm behind him.
    â€˜Here goes,’ Peter said, mostly in hope, and with a mighty throw, launched it towards the far bank. His heart in his mouth, he watched it land just centimetres from the water’s edge, though stay where it was.
    â€˜Good. Now our turn,’ he said and taking Wolfi’s lead in his hand, for the second time that evening, he jumped into the river. Wolfi did not hesitate and followed his young master into the water.
    â€˜Ahhh! It’s freezing!’ Peter cried out, instantly regretting his carelessness.
    To his relief he discovered at this point closer to the bank the river was not so deep, nor so fast flowing. It was still limb-numbingly cold. He soon appreciated the decision to remove his clothing, as in spite of the cold and the current, he was able to make good progress through the water. Soon they were safely on the riverbank. This time they did not dawdle. Peter put on his clothes. The wet layers clung stubbornly to his skin. He was not helped by his natural reluctance to don the sodden clothing. He dressed Wolfi in his coat hoping it would provide some protection from the chill. Wolfi’s fur was so thick Peter doubted he would feel the cold.
    From their position on the riverbank he surveyed the area. Rusted iron rungs formed a ladder up onto the bridge.
    `I could never haul you up there, Wolfi,’ he said.
    In any event it might attract some attention if anyone did happen to pass by. Where they stood was in effect a concrete tow path used in days gone by. The path widened under the bridge. Now it was an ideal walkway on which to travel further along the canal and for much of it out of sight.
    â€˜Mama and Papa must be long gone by now Wolfi. And who knows where? If they ever get away I am sure they will return home to look for me.’
    And so, with the certain knowledge that his parents had been captured, Peter made the agonising decision that it was foolish and dangerous to try and find them.
    The word ‘home’ was one Wolfi had heard many times. His body and tail shook with excitement at the mention of it. Peter knew that he had to fend for himself and Wolfi. That would be so much easier in a location familiar to him, somewhere they had spent many happy hours exploring.
    Reluctantly he turned around. With his back to the north and the last sighting of his parents, he began the long walk back to Schlachtensee.
    * * *

    As Peter started his arduous trudge homewards, in a dark and airless cattle truck, Isaac and Sara were crammed with so many other desolate souls, too many to count. There was so little space that they were compelled to stand with bodies pressing against them in a forced degree of intimacy. Sara was crying as she had done constantly from the time of their arrest and the pronouncement that Peter was drowned. Isaac lovingly held her hand, wracked with guilt that his inaction had brought them to this.
    â€˜Why did I ignore the warnings? Why did I wait so long? Why did I trust that scoundrel of a