Liliana.
I jostled over huddled bodies and wedged in next to her.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
“Cristian, your face. The blood.”
Exclamations of blood covered my shirt and coat. I couldn’t draw a full breath. A rib was probably broken. My nose felt out of place.
I reached up with my tied hands and pulled at my nose. I felt a grinding beneath my fingers and heard a loud crunchy sound. I wrenched my nose back into place and an explosion of pain rocketed across my cheeks, down the back of my throat, and into my stomach. Blood gushed over my mouth and chin, but I could breathe easier. A man handed me a flask. I took a swig and cleaned my nose and mouth.
Liliana began to cry.
I set my wire-bound hands on hers, trying to hold her fingers. “I’m okay,” I assured her. “Are you okay?”
“They beat us with canes, kicked us, punched us,” she said through tears. “A man was on a special list . . . They scalped him.”
I knew about the special list. “How long have you been here?” I asked.
“I’m not sure, over an hour,” she whispered. “They grabbed me in University Square.”
“Me too.”
“Were you with Luca?” she asked.
I nodded and without warning, my face distorted with tears. “Luca,” I whispered. “They shot him.”
“What?!”
“At least twice,” I croaked. “I saw him fall to the ground and then everything went black. I couldn’t save him. I don’t know where he is.” I raised my hands to wipe away the tears.
“Oh my god.” Liliana leaned against me and whispered into my ear. “We’ll find him, Cristian. We will.”
“We have to.”
She nodded. Her forehead touched the side of my face. I pressed against her, ignoring the pounding in my head. We stayed that way for a long time, faces together. Silent.
“Are you kissing?” asked the little boy.
“No,” said Liliana, sniffing back tears. “I’m telling him a secret.”
“A secret? The regime is beating, shooting, and killing kids,” said a man with a thick mustache. “That can’t remain a secret. All of us, we had empty hands and empty bellies. They turned a peaceful protest into a bloodbath. And these torturers at the fourteenth precinct, they’re inhuman!”
“Shh . . . they’ll beat us again,” someone whispered.
“Yes, they’ll beat us again. Didn’t you hear?” replied the man with the mustache. “They’re taking us to Jilava. This is just the beginning.”
“What about the other demonstrators?” I asked.
“They’ll continue protesting,” he said. “The demonstrations are beyond Bucharest now. They’re happening in Arad, Satu Mare, Sibiu, Cluj, Ia?i, and other cities. But we need to turn the army. There are rumors that the Romanian military might side with the people.”
I thought of the young soldier who warned Luca and me to leave. He was trying to help us. “How can we turn the military?” I asked.
“We can’t. The generals have to make that decision for themselves.”
We sat in the dark van, exhausted and frightened. Would the military turn on the regime?
Liliana’s voice pierced the darkness. “I’m Liliana Pavel and this is Cristian Florescu. We’re seventeen years old, students at MF3 High School, and live in Salajan sector three. I don’t know what will happen when we arrive at Jilava. If any of you are set free, will you please contact our families? Liliana Pavel and Cristian Florescu. Tell our families you saw us together and tell them . . . we were alive.”
68
?AIZECE ?I OPT
Jilava.
A sprawling monster the color of dry bones that lived south of Bucharest.
Brick archways. Thick metal gates. Grisly history.
I had said nothing in the van, but I was worried. Bunu had told me of Jilava.
“It’s the worst of the worst, reserved for political prisoners and people incarcerated for their faith. The inmates are tortured, mutilated, burned, and locked in frozen boxes.”
We were considered political prisoners. And we had been marching with a group of what looked like a hundred thousand.
The van came to a stop.
“Cristian,” whispered Liliana. “What’s going to happen to us?”
The fear in her voice pained me. “I don’t know. Stay close.”
The father of the two children issued warnings. “Stay alert and stay together! No matter what, stay together. Promise me.” The children nodded and whimpered.