Page 166 - The Book Thief
P. 166
THE STRUGGLER, CONCLUDED
The juggling comes to an end now, but the struggling does not. I have Liesel
Meminger in one hand, Max Vandenburg in the other. Soon, I will clap them
together. Just give me a few pages.
The struggler:
If they killed him tonight, at least he would die alive.
The train ride was far away now, the snorer most likely tucked up in the carriage
shed made her bed, traveling on. Now there were only footsteps between Max
and survival. Footsteps and thoughts, and doubts.
He followed the map in his mind, from Pasing to Molching. It was late when he
saw the town. His legs ached terribly, but he was nearly therethe most dangerous
place to be. Close enough to touch it.
Just as it was described, he found Munich Street and made his way along the
footpath.
Everything stiffened.
Glowing pockets of streetlights.
Dark, passive buildings.
The town hall stood like a giant ham-fisted youth, too big for his age. The
church disappeared in darkness the farther his eyes traveled upward.
It all watched him.
He shivered.
He warned himself. Keep your eyes open.
