Dan Smith - The Child Thief

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In the tradition of
and
, a troubled First World War veteran races across the frozen steppe of 1930s Ukraine to save a child from a shadowy killer with unthinkable plans. December 1930, Western Ukraine. Luka is a war veteran who now wants a quiet life with his family. His village has, so far, remained hidden from the advancing Soviet brutality, but everything changes the day the stranger arrives, pulling a sled bearing a terrible cargo. The villager’s fear turns deadly and they think they can save themselves, but their anger has cursed them: when calm is restored, a little girl has vanished. Luka is the only man with the skills to find who could have stolen a child in these frozen lands - and besides, the missing girl is best friend to Luka’s daughter, and he swears he will find her. Together with his sons, Luka sets out in pursuit across lands ravaged by war and gripped by treachery. Soon they realise that the man they are tracking is no ordinary criminal, but a skilful hunter with the child as the bait in his twisted game. It will take all of Luka's strength to battle the harshest of conditions, and all of his wit to stay a step ahead of Soviet authorities. And though his toughest enemy is the man he tracks, his strongest bond is a promise to his family back at home.

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‘We’ll have to hope so,’ I told him. ‘A fresh fall would help cover it better.’

‘But then we’d have no way of following Dariya.’

‘I think we’ll be able to follow her whatever happens. It’s part of his game.’

‘You really think this is a game to him?’

I nodded. ‘Take a child, provoke a hunting party and turn the tables on them. I’d bet the stranger who came into Vyriv wasn’t alone when he started out to rescue his children. I’d bet this man killed them one by one, just like he wants to do with us.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s exciting? Maybe he enjoys it.’ I looked at my son. ‘But this time it’s different. This time it’s me who’s after him – and he won’t get away.’

Coming to where the others were waiting, I took up my pack and handed Viktor’s to him, saying it was time to be strong again. Beside him, Aleksandra was swamped by the coat we had given her, the warmth bringing colour to her face and hardening the intent in her eyes. She no longer looked cold and afraid, but had the air of a woman who was watching closely, assessing her options, deciding what she had to do to survive. There was something almost animal-like in the intensity of her expressions. I had told Petro that we did not breed weak women, and the look in Aleksandra’s eyes proved it to me.

Viktor took the pack from me and put it over his back. He hesitated when he was about to pick up the rifle, but he grasped it tight, fighting his guilt as he slung it over his shoulder.

‘I would have done the same thing,’ I said, glancing at Aleksandra, looking for a reaction.

Viktor turned to look at me.

‘I would have shot him the way you did.’ I gave him my full attention now. Aleksandra had not reacted to my comment, but she was watching us closely.

‘But you didn’t.’

‘No.’

‘So you wouldn’t have.’

‘I just hesitated a little longer than you, that’s all. It’s experience.’ I shrugged. ‘Or maybe it’s age, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just slower than I used to be.’

Viktor said nothing.

‘It’s no small thing, killing a man. Taking a life. Taking away everything someone is.’

‘It’s not that,’ Viktor said.

‘What then?’

‘It’s taking the wrong life. If it had been him , if I had been right, I would be pleased.’

‘You’re sure about that?’

‘I’m certain.’

I nodded. ‘Good. Then I need you to take care of Aleksandra. She’s your responsibility now.’

‘I’m not anybody’s responsibility,’ Aleksandra said. ‘If you take me with you, I won’t slow you down. I’m strong.’

I looked her up and down, seeing how much her demeanour had changed since we first saw her. ‘Yes, you are. But back there you were afraid.’

‘Of course.’

‘There will be more of that,’ I said. ‘Are you sure you want to come with us? You don’t even know where we’re going.’

‘What choice do I have?’

‘You could stay here. Try to go home.’ I shrugged. ‘It’s up to you now.’

‘You’d just let me go?’

‘If it’s what you want.’

‘But you know I’m going to come with you. That’s why you hid Roman. That’s why you made the tracks. What else can I do?’

I looked directly at her and saw that she knew her father was gone. She had accepted it as a fact because it was the only way she could move on and survive. Aleksandra had nothing to go back to; she had already told us she had no other family. The only thing waiting for her in Uroz was death or exile. Perhaps both. We were the only hope she had now.

I reached out and put a hand on her arm. I said nothing, but I let her see what was in my face, in my eyes. We were together now. She was with us now.

Aleksandra nodded gently. ‘I won’t be a burden.’

‘I’ know.’

And with that we began walking again.

17

Noon came and went. We sat to make a small fire and brew tea to warm us but there was nothing to eat. Aleksandra was weak and hungry, but we had nothing to give her. If we were still tracking Dariya by nightfall, I’d set more snares, but otherwise there was little we could do for her. Even so, true to her word, she did not slow us down. She walked as strong and hard as any one of us.

For the most part we were silent until Petro aired his worries once more.

‘You think they’ll find Vyriv like they found Uroz?’ he asked. It was an hour or so since we had left the place where Viktor killed the old man. None of us had spoken in all that time, each of us lost in our thoughts and exhaustion.

‘That’s where you’re from?’ Aleksandra asked. ‘Vyriv?’

‘Yes.’

‘They’ll find it,’ she said.

Petro looked across at her, sitting an arm’s length from Viktor. ‘Maybe not. We’re small and remote. It was hardly touched during the civil war. Even during the famine there was enough to eat.’

‘Hardly enough,’ Viktor said.

‘Maybe.’ Petro nodded. ‘But it survived. It’s well hidden.’

‘It’s different now,’ Aleksandra said. ‘The communists are different. They want everything.’

‘But if they can’t find it…’

‘You think they won’t find it?’ Aleksandra said. ‘You think someone won’t tell them?’

‘Why would they do that?’

‘Why would a woman denounce her own husband?’

‘What?’

Aleksandra shook her head at Petro’s naivety. ‘A woman in Uroz gave up her own husband because they threatened her children. So she gave him up. Denounced him like a criminal. And you know what they did? They arrested them all. Him they executed. She was taken away with the children.’

‘Taken where?’

‘Who knows?’

‘Siberia maybe,’ Viktor said. ‘Or the White Sea. Papa said there are prisons up there.’

‘Labour camps,’ I told him. ‘They don’t call them prisons.’ I spoke to Petro: ‘They will find it – Aleksandra is right. Perhaps they’re in our village now, as we sit here.’

Petro looked at me with alarm. ‘Now?’ And he saw our dilemma. While we were scouring the countryside for Dariya, his own mother and sister had been left to fend for themselves in the shadow of an approaching danger.

‘We have to get back,’ he said.

‘Get back?’ Aleksandra looked confused.

‘We will, as soon as we can,’ I said. ‘We need to find Dariya and we need to get home.’

‘And then? What can we do?’ Petro asked.

‘You mean about the communists taking our belongings?’ I said. ‘Nothing. There’s nothing we can do. In the end they’ll take what they want.’

‘Who’s Dariya?’ asked Aleksandra. ‘What’s going on here? Why are you talking about going back? I thought you were running away . I thought you were afraid and trying to escape the communists.’ She looked around at each one of us, not understanding. ‘But you’re looking for someone?’

Petro turned to me and I thought for a moment before nodding. ‘All right. Tell her.’

‘A girl was kidnapped from Vyriv,’ Petro said. ‘My cousin. We’ve been following the trail since yesterday.’

‘Kidnapped?’

‘There have been others too,’ Viktor said. ‘Two dead children brought into the village. One of them butchered as if—’

‘Enough,’ I stopped him.

‘—to eat her.’

‘That’s enough.’

‘I want her to know. I want her to know why I killed that man.’

‘Not because you thought he was a communist?’ Aleksandra asked.

‘No.’ Viktor rubbed a hand across his mouth. ‘I was afraid he was the one we’ve been following. This man, he’s… he’s like a ghost.’

‘A ghost?’

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