Red Winter (34 page)

‘Does it matter?’ Lyudmila asked.

‘Probably not.’ I looked back at her, thinking I knew almost nothing about her. Even less than I knew about Tanya. We were four strangers thrown together by circumstance. People who, in another time, would never have even known of the others’ existence.

Lyudmila picked up Tanya’s rifle and started checking it. ‘We shouldn’t be staying here. We should leave now. I’ve got a feeling . . .’ She shook her head.

‘I agree there’s something strange,’ I said, ‘but I don’t know about leaving. Where would we go?’

‘We could go into the forest.’ Lyudmila looked up. ‘Keep moving, stop when we’re tired. It’s always been good enough before.’

‘You wanted to come down here,’ I said. ‘You agreed.’

‘That was before.’

‘We can’t go anywhere tonight,’ Tanya said. ‘The clouds are too thick for the moon, and it’s starting to snow.’

‘It’s snowing in
here
,’ Lyudmila said.

‘And Anna’s got the fire going.’

‘We can light a fire out there.’

‘You have to admit, though, the idea of a blanket and a bed is tempting. When was the last time you slept in a bed?’ Tanya asked her.

‘Right now, it feels as if I
never
slept in a bed, but I’ll survive. And remember –’ Lyudmila inclined her head in my direction ‘–
he’s
being followed.’

‘Not in the dark,’ I said, but I couldn’t help wondering if Lyudmila was right. Something was telling me it might be better to move on. If it hadn’t been for Anna, I might have done just that, but she needed the warmth and shelter of the house, not the cold damp of the forest. There might have been a hole in the roof, but with the fire burning, it would soon warm up.

‘So what do we do?’ Tanya asked.

‘We leave,’ Lyudmila said.

‘I think we should stay,’ Tanya replied. ‘We need to rest, and the horses do too.’ She looked at Anna, who was coming back from the
pich
, great yellow flames roaring behind her. Already the heat was flooding the room. ‘And we have to think about you, don’t we?’ She smiled at Anna. ‘The forest at night is no place for you.’

‘Don’t go soft,’ Lyudmila warned her. ‘Don’t let the child make you forget who you are.’

‘I’ve already forgotten,’ Tanya said. ‘That’s what Krukov did. Anna can only help me remember.’

Lyudmila shook her head and went back to checking their weapons.

‘You don’t have to stay here because of me,’ Anna said, watching Lyudmila. ‘If you think we should go . . .’

‘We all need to rest,’ I told her. ‘Don’t listen to what Lyudmila says. Don’t be scared of her.’

‘I’m not scared of her. I just don’t want us all to stay because of me. If it’s not safe.’

‘It’s safe enough,’ Tanya said. ‘What can an old man and woman do? We’ll take turns to stay awake,’ Tanya said. ‘Leave as soon as it’s light. The dog will let us know if there’s anything out there.’

‘Tuzik,’ Anna said, making the dog look up. ‘His name is Tuzik.’

‘Well, that makes it all right.’ Lyudmila’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. ‘We’ll be safe for sure, cooped up in this house with those people next door, not knowing what’s outside, because Tuzik is here. The wild dog that doesn’t belong to anyone.’

‘Of course he belongs to someone,’ Anna said. ‘He’s mine and Kolya’s dog. Any idiot can see that.’

Lyudmila’s head snapped up, her face a picture of surprise and indignation.

Anna took a step back, one hand going to her mouth as if her thoughts had betrayed her and the words were never meant to have been spoken. ‘I’m sorry.’

Lyudmila took a deep breath and shook her head. ‘It’s all right. Don’t worry.’ And for a moment the briefest smile touched her lips and the hardness in her eyes softened. Then she cleared her throat as if to shake the weakness away, and her sullen expression returned.

‘We stay, then,’ I said. ‘But we keep the door bolted and we take turns to keep watch.’

Lyudmila made a face and looked at Tanya. ‘It’s the wrong decision, for the wrong reasons.’

‘We should get some sleep,’ I suggested.

Lyudmila stood and stretched her back. ‘I’ll take first watch.’

Tuzik was the first to hear it.

Anna and I had taken separate berths, but it wasn’t long before she came to join me, lying protected between me and the wall. She was far braver than I had expected, but when the night closes in and the darkness falls and everything is silent, that’s when the demons come. That was the time when
I
was most tormented by my fears and burdens, so it was no wonder to me that it was also the time when Anna found it most difficult. She had grown brighter over the last day, but lying awake in the dark, her mama and papa dead in her past, she hadn’t been able to sleep, so she had come to me, looking for someone to be her parent. Beside me, she had fallen asleep while I stroked her hair and let her know she was protected.

I had lain awake in my berth running through the events of the past days, imagining Krukov splitting his unit three ways, taking one ahead to burn and torture his way north to whatever mysterious destination he had planned, while leaving another to lead its prisoners to . . . where? And of course, I had come to the conclusion that there was that third split: the seven riders who were on my trail.

The old man and his family troubled me too. There was something in their manner that put me on edge. It wasn’t unusual for my countrymen to be afraid at the mere mention of the word ‘Cheka’, so I attributed their behaviour to that fear, but there was something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Something deeper. The glances they exchanged, Sergei’s inability to look me in the eye. It was almost as if he were ashamed of something more than robbing bodies.

Anna had told us not to stay just because of her, but that’s what we had done. Neither Tanya nor I would have remained here with the reservations we had, if we had been without her. We would have disappeared into the forest and made it our shelter for the night, but Anna had swayed our decision. We were bound to the girl, and I had promised to be her protection, but she weakened us. She made us more vulnerable. She would have survived in the forest, but we had chosen to stay. And when I saw Tuzik lift his head and prick up his ears, I hoped we had not made a mistake.

Lyudmila was a shadow, sitting motionless in a chair at the table, her rifle over her knee. She didn’t notice Tuzik, but she heard his growl a fraction of a second before the tapping came at the door. A gentle but insistent sound, as if someone wanted to be heard by those inside but not those outside.

I was sitting up when Lyudmila turned to look in our direction, and I could tell she was surprised to see I was awake.

‘Someone at the door,’ she whispered.

‘I heard. Wake Tanya.’

Tuzik padded across to the door, sniffing along the base of it, stopping to listen, his ears turning in much the same ways as Kashtan’s did.

I shook Anna, putting a finger to my lips as soon as she opened her eyes.

‘Put on your coat and boots,’ I told her.

‘What is it?’

‘I don’t know yet. Just do as I say.’ I grabbed the revolver from the floor beside me and put on my own coat and boots. If we had to leave in a hurry, I didn’t want to come back for anything.

Again the gentle tapping at the door.

As Tanya slipped from the berth on the other side of the room, I crossed to the front wall, treading as quietly as I could, and pressed myself against the blackened wood. I edged to the window beside the door and pulled the curtain just a fraction to one side.

Everything was black outside, so I leaned closer, my nose touching the glass.

A pair of eyes was looking back at me from the dark and I reeled in surprise, lifting my revolver without thinking.

‘What is it?’ Lyudmila said, coming to my side. Tanya was just a few steps behind her, already wearing her boots and slipping on her coat.

‘Someone’s there.’

‘Who?’

‘Only one way to find out.’ I readied the revolver in my right hand and reached up with my left to draw back the top bolt.

‘Lie flat on the berth,’ I said to Anna, and I waited for her to do as I asked, the tapping coming once more.

As soon as she was lying so flat she was almost impossible to see, I worked the bolt, moving it up and down before it finally came back with a heavy thump. With that done, I crouched and took hold of the lower bolt.

Lyudmila had taken a position behind the table. She was on one knee with her rifle across the tabletop, ready to shoot at whoever was outside. Tanya had retreated to the far end of the room, hidden in shadow but with a perfect view of the door. Anna remained flat on the berth, Tuzik standing at my side.

I prepared myself for whatever was to come and drew back the second bolt. It released with a click of iron on iron.

I stood to one side as I opened the door and let it swing inwards, raising my revolver to the expanding slice of night that appeared.

And then she spoke.

‘You have to leave,’ she said. ‘You’re in danger.’

Oksana was afraid. She held her hands together as if in prayer, clutching them close to her chest, and her whole demeanour was withdrawn. Her shoulders hunched, her head lowered, her eyes turned down.

She refused to come into the house, staying on the threshold, trembling with the cold. It was clear that she had come out in a hurry and had not intended to be long.

I took a tentative step outside, glancing around the yard as I came closer to her. ‘What kind of danger?’ I asked.

‘Sergei’s gone for the Cheka. Svetlana said you were deserters and made him go.’

‘The old woman?’ I realised it was the first time I’d heard her name. ‘For the Cheka? What are you talking about?’

‘Please,’ she said. ‘You have to leave.’

Behind me, Tanya and Lyudmila were moving through the house, coming to stand behind me to find out what was happening.

‘What’s this about the Cheka?’ Tanya asked.

‘The other farm . . .’ Oksana’s throat was dry and the words didn’t come easily to her.

‘The one we saw from the woods?’

‘Yes. There are Chekists there.’

‘
Chekists?
’

She nodded.

‘The ones who were following you?’ Tanya looked at me.

‘They couldn’t be . . .’ I looked down at Oksana and let her see my anger. ‘When did they get here?
When?
’

‘Yesterday morning.’ She cowered away from me.

‘It’s not them.’ I shook my head at Tanya. ‘It can’t be. It’s someone else.’

‘I knew there was something wrong here.’ Lyudmila stepped closer to Oksana and leaned right in to stare at her. ‘I—’

‘Is it him?’ Tanya said to me, her face draining. ‘Do you think it’s him?’

Lyudmila stopped mid-sentence and stared. She turned her head slowly, all three of us looking at one another. Tanya hadn’t needed to say the name.

‘Did we . . . ? While he was so close?’

The thought of it was like a thousand cannons firing in my head. It was almost too much to comprehend – that we might have found him. That our search might be almost at an end. That we might have been sitting in the
izba
sharing our food with Oksana and her family while Krukov was so close.

‘It can’t be . . .’ I shook my head. It was too hard to believe.

‘We stay,’ Tanya said, hefting her rifle. ‘Let him come. Kill them all.’

I imagined us barricading ourselves in the tiny
izba
, with its broken roof, waiting for Krukov and his unit of well-trained soldiers to arrive, but all I saw was bloodshed and death. Ours. ‘We wouldn’t have a chance.’

‘We have rifles,’ Lyudmila said. ‘Pistols and enough ammunition to kill a hundred men. Will they
have
a hundred men?’

‘They’ll have explosives,’ I told her. ‘Gas. Maybe a Maxim gun.’

‘Please,’ Oksana said. ‘My children.’

‘And we have Anna. We can’t . . . We don’t have a chance. We should get the horses ready, go into the forest.’

‘Run away?’ Tanya said. ‘After all this?’

‘We can fight from the forest if we have to,’ I said. ‘And remember, I need to know where my family is. I need him alive.’

Tanya said nothing. She looked out into the darkness and said nothing.

‘We don’t have a chance,’ I told them again. ‘If we stay here, we’ll die. We need to get the horses ready and leave. Now.’

‘There’s no time for the horses,’ Oksana said. ‘They’ll be here any minute. Please just go.’

‘We’ll
find
time.’ It would take a few long minutes to saddle the horses, but there was no question of leaving without them. We needed them. Without Kashtan, I would probably be dead in the forest already; I had no intention of leaving her anywhere. ‘Take her.’ I pushed Oksana towards Tanya, who gripped her tighter than necessary, and then the three women hurried towards the outhouse where the horses were stabled.

I ran back to the
izba
and called to Anna, telling her to help me carry the few belongings we had brought inside, then she and I followed the women, Tuzik on our heels.

The door to the barn was open and we rushed inside.

The animals were agitated; that was clear straight away. They had moved to one side of the barn, shying away from the place where Tanya stood, pressing Oksana against the wall.

Tanya had taken the front of Oksana’s dress in her left fist, twisting to cut off her breath and pushing her forearm against her chest. In her right hand, she held a pistol, the barrel forced so hard into the soft tissue on the underside of Oksana’s chin it was pushing the woman’s head back. I had been on the receiving end of Tanya’s temper when we first met in Belev, so I knew how fierce she could be.

As soon as she saw, Anna tugged on my coat. ‘Make her stop.’

I understood Tanya’s reaction. I knew how she felt because I felt that way too. We had compromised ourselves for the promise of some little comfort, for the protection of a young girl, for the slightest sense of humanity, and our decision to let down our guard had been rewarded with
this
. And if this kind of betrayal was the result of placing even the slightest faith in other people, then what hope was there for any of us?