The Escape
    
The wind howled and wailed as the truck headed up the mountain, a tiny gray speck in a whirlwind of snow. It was a pawn in a deadly mission, one that would either liberate or kill the six people riding inside. Sixteen-year-old Leif sat in the front of the truck, his head covered with a wool scarf and cap. As the truck continued farther into the blizzard, Leif would occasionally glance toward the back. It was his job to keep an eye on their cargo while his father drove.
    
Their cargo. Hidden under blankets and skis in the back of the truck were four Jews. Sara, Josef, Astrid, and little Magnus. They were attempting to escape Nazi-occupied Norway, and they were all depending on Leif and his father.
    
The fierce storm would be their friend in this risky endeavor, Leif thought. Surely no Nazi guard would see the little truck if he could barely see his own hand. Still, the storm raged on, the snowflakes hitting the windshield like bullets. The truck put up quite a fight as it surged through the growing drifts of snow. However, its journey ended with an abrupt halt.
    
The tires whirled in the snow bank, refusing to move. The engine sputtered and died. A panicky feeling started to take over Leif. They were still over a mile from the border, with no quick transportation.
    
Leif and his father stumbled out of the truck and over to the mound of blankets. Six sets of hands shook as skis were fastened to worn boots. Soon the swish of skis joined the howling of the wind as the escapees and their guides continued their journey.
    
The snow was their cloak as they made their way along the invisible path carved by members of the resistance. Leif’s father knew it best, and he led the way through the relentless storm.
    
When Leif’s father finally stopped, the skiers were bent  over with exhaustion and relief. The blizzard raged on, but nobody seemed to notice. They had made it over the border, to Sweden. They were finally safe.