Dan Smith - Red Winter

‘They betrayed us.’ It was as if the treachery stood in front of her, blinding her to everything else.

‘Oksana warned us.’

‘Kill him and have done with it,’ Lyudmila said. ‘We have to go.’

Tanya’s eyes flicked in her direction, almost imperceptible, and the idea in her mind grew larger. Shoot and be gone. But I was armed too, my revolver pointing at her stomach, angled upwards for maximum damage. If there were to be shots tonight, there would be more than one.

‘She changed her mind,’ I said. ‘She warned us, gave us a chance. Let’s not waste it.’

‘They betrayed us,’ Tanya said again, quieter this time, and pressed the barrel harder.

‘Leave him alone,’ Anna said, and I heard her coming forward, but I held out a hand and told her to stop.

‘Stay back. Don’t watch.’

Now Tanya’s eyes went to Anna, just for a second, but it was long enough for a new image to burn itself into her mind. The image of herself murdering me in front of this child. Perhaps the irony of that was not lost on her, that she should become the hated aggressor.

‘She’s afraid,’ I said. ‘Oksana is afraid like everyone else. And you’re just making it worse. I want to hurt someone as much as you do, but this is not the right person. We don’t have time for this. Krukov might be coming across the field right now. Do you want him to find us in here? Like this?’

Or perhaps she did want that to happen. Maybe that’s what this was about – delaying our escape so that she could meet Krukov face to face.

‘If he comes here,’ I said, ‘we’ll all die. You, me, Anna, the children in the farm. He’ll kill everyone and burn this place to the ground. We’ve seen that everywhere we’ve been.’ But something in those words didn’t ring quite true; a big question whispered quietly at the back of my mind, like a bad seed planted in a dark corner. If Krukov was here, why hadn’t he already killed Oksana and her family?

Tanya lifted her left hand to the grip of the pistol and altered her stance. She set her jaw tight, but I knew there was a shift in her resolve. It was a sign of her doubt.

‘So what are we going to do? Shoot each other?’ I kept my eyes on her and lowered my revolver. ‘What then? Who will punish Krukov then? Who will look after Anna?’

Tanya blinked.

‘We have to go,’ I said. ‘We have to live. If there are men coming, we have to go. Now. This woman is not worth dying for.’

Tanya said nothing.

‘Let’s ride into the forest, disappear, find the right moment.’

She stayed as she was, trying to calm herself.

‘We don’t have much time,’ I told her. ‘Save your bullets for when we need them most.’

Tanya looked away now. She let herself see Lyudmila lying on the floor with Tuzik standing over her. She saw Anna, small and vulnerable and needing our help, and she turned to look at Oksana kneeling in the straw, shamed by her actions.

‘If we wait much longer,’ I said, ‘we’ll all be dead.’

When Tanya lowered her weapon, she said nothing.

She collected her rifle from the floor and walked away from me, holstering her pistol.

‘Get this damn dog away from me.’ Lyudmila stole my attention and I called to Tuzik, unsure if he would even listen to me, but he came as soon as I spoke his name, and Lyudmila jumped to her feet, casting a hateful look at me.

On the other side of the barn, Tanya lifted her animal’s bridle from the beam where it was stored and began securing it over her horse’s head.

‘Help me with Kashtan,’ I said to Anna.

Anna seemed to deflate then, as if she had been holding her breath for a long time.

‘Quick,’ I told her, feeling the urgency return. This was not over yet.

Kashtan was a little agitated by what had happened and she moved away as I tried to put the saddle onto her back, so I soothed her as gently as I could, feeling the time draining away, imagining the approach of the soldiers.

‘Have you done this before?’ I asked Oksana as I struggled to fit Kashtan’s bridle, my fingers moving as quickly as I could make them. ‘Taken people in like this? Betrayed them to—’

‘Yes,’ Oksana replied. She was still on her knees, in the gloom at the back of the barn. ‘I’m so sorry. I…’ She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t explain the wickedness of what they had done to us. ‘That’s why I came to warn you. I… Anna. The child. The children . I don’t know what I would do if someone took my children .’

My fingers fumbled with the buckles, my hands shaking.

Anna reached up to take the fastenings in her small hands, saying, ‘I’ll do that.’

‘You’re lucky they haven’t taken your children,’ I said, taking my saddle and hefting it onto Kashtan’s back.

‘Perhaps they still will,’ Lyudmila said.

Oksana looked over at her, and the realisation was clear in her eyes. Her children were no safer than ours were. Reporting and trapping deserters might earn her a few favours, but there was no guarantee.

‘What have they given you in return?’ I asked, pulling the straps tight under Kashtan’s stomach and tightening the buckles. The fixings were larger and my fingers managed them well enough. ‘The Chekists? What have they given you?’

Oksana shrugged and shook her head.

The saddle was secured, the bridle on, and I straightened up, running a hand along Kashtan’s smooth coat, feeling some of the anger and tension drain away. As always, there was something about her that calmed me, the sense that no one would ever be as in tune with me as she was.

‘Good girl,’ I whispered, patting her shoulder. ‘Good girl.’ Then I handed her reins to Anna, while Tanya helped Lyudmila to finish tacking her horse.

‘How many are they?’ I asked, drawing my revolver and heading towards the door. ‘The Chekists?’

Oksana thought for a moment. ‘Five or six, but they come and go. Sometimes there are more.’

‘Have you seen any of them with prisoners? Women and children?’ I stopped and looked back at her. ‘Tell me the truth.’

Oksana lowered her head again and cowered against the wall of the outbuilding as if she wished the earth would swallow her whole.

‘The truth.’

Tanya and Lyudmila had finished now and were preparing to lead the horses from the barn, but they too stopped to hear Oksana’s answer.

‘Yesterday. There were more here yesterday.’

‘With prisoners?’

‘I think so. We didn’t see them, but—’

‘Didn’t see them? Then how can you be sure?’

‘Not close, I mean. There were people , not soldiers – I saw that, but not who they were. Not really. They stayed at the other farm. They didn’t come here.’

‘Are they still there?’

She shook her head.

‘And you kept that from us?’ Tanya said. ‘You kept that from us and you were going to let the Chekists come and drag us out in the night?’ She looked at me. ‘You should have let me put a bullet in her.’

‘She’s protecting herself,’ I said, looking at Anna, knowing the depths to which people would sink in order to keep themselves and their family safe.

‘You’re wrong,’ Tanya said. ‘ She’s wrong. Nothing would make me betray someone like that.’

‘Not even for your own children?’ I asked her. ‘Would you not have done anything to protect them?’

Tanya stopped and stared at me, knowing I was right. We lived in times that made people do things they would never have considered before.

‘Come on,’ I said, crossing the short distance to the door and looking out to check it was clear for our escape. ‘We need to leave.’

But we were already too late.