Authors: Kenneth Cran
“Move it or I’ll sing,” hollered Nick. The great feline jumped and roared, circled around and reached under with a paw. Nick ignored it, instead focusing his attention in the yard. What he saw was another cat, a big one. Though his circle of vision was small, Nick could see that it was doing something unusual.
It’s carrying something
, he thought.
No, it’s dragging something.
His heart sank as he recognized the coat and pants.
It was Talia.
He yelped “No” and the cats went into another frenzy. The big one dragging Talia turned toward Nick and the tank. It dropped her and charged toward him, and Nick instinctively curled up into a tight ball.
The cat ripped through the cammo net in seconds and swung its paws under the tank. Its reach was greater than those of the smaller ones and Nick’s eyes widened as hooked claws swiped the air less than a foot from his face. He scooted further away, but then felt a whoosh of air from behind as the gap closed between himself and the smaller cats on the other side.
Snow flew up in his face as paws swung around under the tank. Inside a small perimeter, Nick remained safe, but he was no longer singing. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a sliver of movement out in the yard. Shielding his eyes, he strained to see past the tumult of flying snow. Through the now gaping hole in the cammo net, he saw Talia raise her head and look around. Then she looked toward him. She was alive.
“Talia!” Nick yelled. “Run!”
Talia’s head throbbed and blood stung her eyes.
Her
blood. The cat had dropped her through the trap door and she had landed hard on the tunnel floor. How her neck wasn’t broken, she didn’t know, but she felt that she was by no means out of harm’s way. The thrashing against the bars the colonel gave her still pained her, and now what must be a serious concussion added to her misery. Her vision was a soft mosaic of colors surrounded by a frame of black. Stars flashed every time she moved her head. And the back of her neck and right shoulder burned with shooting pain. She must have hit the tunnel floor at an odd angle.
She thought she heard a man yelling from somewhere to the right, but she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything now as she slipped in and out of consciousness. A feeling of nausea swept over her and Talia did everything she could to keep from vomiting. Laying her face on the snow, she relished the coolness and felt refreshed. So refreshed, in fact, it felt like a good time for a nap. Just a little one, though. She had research to do, the cabin needed a good cleaning, and what did she feel like having for dinner? Talia closed her eyes and slipped into blissful oblivion.
Nick hollered out again. “Talia! Run, run!” Whipped into furious excitement, the Smilodons hissed and roared, and Nick thought it was the volume of his voice that inspired the frenzy. He wished he could reach the Maultier’s horn. That would give them a jolt.
Ten minutes later and as if conceding the one that got away, the biggest of the cats gave up. Nick watched it return to Talia’s body and drag her away.
No
, he thought.
No, no
. His heart felt as if it were going to explode. Was he watching someone he cared for being dragged away to her death?
She’s alive. She’s playing dead so they don’t kill her outright.
That must be it
. He felt no comfort, though.
A few minutes passed before the other cats gave up too, and Nick thought they might have followed the big one. He even thought about climbing out from under the tank, too, but before he could, the cats reappeared. In their jaws, they dragged more bodies toward the rear of the camp, and Nick could tell from the bloody clothing who they were: Ormskovo and Jovaravich. He hoped they hadn’t suffered.
He watched as the big cats made off with the remains and vanished into the forest. He did a quick count: five animals, total. How many had there been originally? Did it matter? They came and went at will. Nick also wondered what they were up to, and decided that Talia had been wrong about them, and that they must indeed be stockpiling food for the winter. Human food. He decided he’d wait a little longer before climbing out.
And once he did, what then? Though it looked like Radchek and Barkov weren’t among the cat’s victims, if they were alive, he had no intention of being under their guard. He was sure Talia was still alive, too. He didn’t know for how long, but he had to go after her. Earlier, Ormskovo had asked him if she was his girlfriend. Nick now knew she was more, much more. He tried to figure out a course of action, but it didn’t take long to figure out what to do.
He was, after all, under a tank.
39
“I have the key,” said Radchek, laying on the bed. He wiped dirt from his scraped-up face, but found that to be as painful as his chewed foot.
“Well, why are we still locked up?” Barkov said. Radchek reached into his pocket, pulled the key, and held it aloft. Even from his cell, Barkov could see it and he licked his lips in muted anticipation.
“As soon as I feel better, I’m going to go back to the radio room.” It pained Radchek to talk, especially to Barkov.
“Captain Radchek, be reasonable,” said Barkov. “You will never be in any kind of shape to call for help.” He clutched the bars tighter and said, “Let me do it.”
Radchek smirked and put the key back in his pocket. “I don’t think so, colonel. I couldn’t trust you any more than I could-” He stopped, unable to think. His foot throbbed with his every heartbeat, but the shooting pains were subsiding. “I can’t trust you.”
“I’ll admit, captain, I haven’t been the model officer these past few days,” Barkov said in a soothing voice. “But we are both hardly in a position to argue with one another. We have a common enemy right now, and we’ll have to work together if we’re to survive.”
Radchek wasn’t buying it. “I’m going to sleep, colonel,” he said, then turned his head.
“What if you don’t wake up?” said Barkov. “Look at your foot, Captain Radchek. That’s not a minor wound. Your life is in danger, and because you are the sole means of my escape, that means my life is in danger as well.”
A sudden jolt of pain rocketed up Radchek’s leg and he squelched a scream and bit into a clenched fist.
“Captain,” continued Barkov. “There must be an infirmary here and an infirmary will have morphine. Let me at least get that for you.”
Drenched in sweat, Radchek trembled as the pain subsided. Morphine would be good right now. He hated the thought of needing Barkov’s help, though.
“
What kind of deal can we make, colonel?” he found himself asking.
The colonel looked like a child behind the glass at a candy counter, savoring that which he knew he could not have. He started pacing in his cell, his head dipped in thought. “Do you think the American might still alive?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Radchek said. “I don’t think we should worry about him now, though.”
“Quite right,” said Barkov. “Then we need to figure how you and I play this out. Let’s see. I would suggest we abandon our charges against one another. Yes?”
To his dismay, Radchek found himself nodding.
“Good. I’ll get morphine from the infirmary and bring it back here. Then I’ll try to make radio contact with Yenisey.”
“You’d better try Bratsk. I think Yenisey’s suffered the same fate as us,” said Radchek and then added, “I’m starving.”
“Yes, me too,” Barkov said. “I’ll find us some MRE’s.”
“What of the lions?” said Radchek. He was hating the entire conversation, but he had to trust Barkov. The colonel was right, his wound was life threatening and without a doctor, he could die. “They may still be out there.”
“Is that our only weapon?” said Barkov, referring to the luger still in Radchek’s grip.
“Yes.”
“Then it’ll have to do. I’m not going anywhere without a gun.”
“Colonel, I-”
“Trust me, captain. I have no interest in wasting bullets on you.”
Radchek didn’t know if the colonel had forgotten about the guns in the administration building, but he’d soon find them if he was to go there for morphine. Anyway, at this point it didn’t matter. Barkov had no reason to kill him. He was not a threat. Regardless, there would be a hearing when this was all over and Radchek was sure the outlandish circumstances of the situation would smooth over any questionable decisions. By him or Barkov.
Reaching back into his pocket, Radchek pulled out the key and said “I’m going to give this to you and we’re going to work together to get out of this.”
“Yes,” said Barkov. “You have my word on that.”
Radchek swallowed, then sat up. Blood rushed to his foot and the pain was unbearable. Sweat broke across his brow and lip, and he fought the urge to scream. With a flick of his arm, the key sailed between the bars of his cell toward Barkov. It landed on the floor a few feet from the colonel, and he reached through the bars and snagged it. In a moment, he was free.
Radchek lay down again and with whatever strength he had left, managed to prop up his foot. The pain subsided to a dull throb.
“Now,” said Barkov taking in a deep breath of freedom. “Let’s get that morphine.” He unlocked Radchek’s cell and entered. Radchek pointed the luger at him as he sidled up next to the bed.
“I have your word?” said the captain.
“You have my word,” Barkov said. Radchek handed him the luger.
“The infirmary is on the second floor of the administration building.”
Barkov savored the feel of his pistol as it once again met his grip. He looked down at Radchek, and then said in an icy voice, “I don’t care.”
Captain Radchek turned his head and saw the colonel’s red face and bulging eyes. It was déjà vu from the incident in the half-track and he knew at the moment that he had made a mistake. Barkov raised the pistol and pointed it at Radchek’s head.
“I hope you rot in-” He was cut off by the sound of a gunshot, and Captain Maksim Radchek felt no more pain.
Nick took a deep breath, then crawled out from underneath the tank. Pressing himself up against the hull, he scanned the area beneath the camouflage net.
There was no sign of
siberius
.
Ratcheting up his nerve level, he tread through the gaping hole made by the cats, then searched the yard. Aside from some footprints and a red mark in the snow where Ormskovo was killed, it looked empty. To his right, the wind-swept drift in which the cats had hidden was now just a nondescript pile of snow, the depression of their frosty cocoons still visible.
They’re gone
, Nick thought.
He had to act, if he was going to find Talia. He was sure he could follow the big cat’s tracks, but he wasn’t so sure what state he’d find her in, and it frightened him.
One step at a time,
he thought.
The first order of business was to pull away the cammo net from the tank. He couldn’t drive through it; the net might tangle up the crawler tracks. Nick went around behind the tank and tried pulling at the stakes holding down the net. It was an impossible task, for the ground was frozen solid. Struggling with a stake, Nick discovered it was easier to unhook the net instead. “Eliminate the negative,” he said, quoting Bing while straining with the heavy net. “Latch on to the affirmative.” In a minute, he had the net behind the tank opened up. Now he could back out. If, of course, he could get the tank to start.
“You’re alive!”
Nick spun around and found himself staring at the hot end of Barkov’s luger.
“I’ll add theft of military property to your long list of offenses,” the colonel said, trudging through the snow toward him. He was no longer the red-faced monster. He was, in fact, quite amiable and relaxed, like he just finished Sunday breakfast on the veranda.
“Colonel,” said Nick, raising his hands. “Those cats may still be around.”
“We’re going back to your cell now.” Barkov pulled the master cellblock key and dangled it from his fingers. “This time, though, I think I’ll break the key inside the lock.”
“Talia’s in danger.” Nick attempted to find some humanity in the man. “Please, let me help her.”