Dan Smith - The Child Thief

‘I’ll go with you,’ Evgeni said beside me. ‘I’ve nothing to lose.’

I continued to watch my son.

‘And you might need help. After everything you’ve been through, Luka, you’re tired and—’

‘I’m fine. I feel strong.’

‘You look like shit.’

I turned to Evgeni and wondered if it was like looking into a mirror. Even in the dim light I could see that Evgeni’s face was drawn, his shoulders hunched, his whole demeanour that of a man close to defeat.

‘You know, they might not even be down there,’ I told him. ‘I haven’t said this to Viktor, but they might have shipped them out already.’

Evgeni glanced down at Vyriv. ‘There are lights.’

‘Some. But they may have marched the people off to the same place they were taking us. I’m going down there, but my wife and daughter might not even be there.’

‘Do you think they know about our escape?’

‘It’s possible.’

‘So they might be waiting for us?’

‘I have to consider it.’

‘Let me come with you.’

‘No.’ I was tempted to accept Evgeni’s offer of help. I was exhausted, with almost no fight left in me. The only thing keeping me going right now was the thought of being with Natalia and Lara again. There would be advantages in taking Evgeni with me, but there would be disadvantages too. ‘You’re no soldier,’ I said. ‘And I wasn’t lying when I told Viktor I’d be quicker and quieter alone. I want you to stay here – and make sure Viktor does too. If I’m not back in an hour, you should all leave.’

‘Leave? But you told Viktor—’

‘I know what I told him, but if I don’t come back in an hour, it means I’m not coming back.’

‘He’d never listen to us.’

‘You’ll have to make him.’

‘No. What if the place is crawling with soldiers like Sushne? It might take longer than an hour just to find them.’

I sighed and shook my head. ‘It won’t be.’

‘But if it is?’

‘Then I’ll come for help.’

‘You promise?’

‘Yes. I promise.’

I didn’t look back as I descended the gentle slope towards Vyriv. I fixed my eyes on the barn and tried not to imagine the worst of what I might find. I was as afraid now as I had ever been in my life. Behind me my son, ahead of me my wife and daughter. My family was so close, and yet it felt as if they were as far apart as the seasons, all of us just a breath from being lost to each other.

When I reached the fence, I didn’t pause. I climbed straight over and headed for the shadow cast by the barn, the closest building and the first real cover. In my hand I gripped the pistol I’d found on the stranger’s sled, the one Viktor had used to shoot Yakov from his horse.

The barn doors moved on their hinges when I pressed against them, and from inside I heard the gentle snickering of a horse. I froze, scanning the area around the back of the house, and the fear that had gripped me as I came down the slope began to fade, pushed aside by the instinct gained from years of fighting and hardship.

The horse confirmed the presence of soldiers. No one in the village owned one, and no one had a barn as large as mine. So the soldiers had put their horses in here to protect them from the worst of the cold. I felt for the fastening, finding the lock had been forced off, and I opened the door enough to look inside.

The cow was gone, but in its place there were two horses. Only two. There had been more horses in Sushne, I had seen at least six. There had been cart tracks too, but here there were none, so I was reassured that Vyriv had not been garrisoned in the same way. It made sense – Vyriv was smaller, with fewer people. The soldiers would be here a short while, clear out the village and leave. The presence of soldiers also made me believe that the villagers were probably still here.

I closed the doors and moved to the corner of the barn, leaning out to look across at the rear window of my home, ignoring the memory of when I had last been there with my daughter, watching the men going out to search for Dariya the day they hanged the stranger.

I crouched low, moving quickly, crossing the space between barn and home, pushing my back against the wall below the window, allowing my breathing to settle. I hoped I would be strong enough to do what I needed to.

Turning and rising up to peer into the bedroom, there was enough light to see the beds were empty, but there was a weak glow leaking under the closed door that opened into the living area. I imagined Natalia and Lara sitting at the table, waiting for me to return, and my heart ached with the need to see them. In an almost uncontrollable surge of emotion, I wanted to rush round to the front door and burst in to lift my daughter in my arms, but I tightened a fist around the butt of the pistol and forced the emotion away.

Instead, I crept to the corner of the house and edged along the side wall until I could lean out and look into the centre of the village. It was almost as if the houses were deserted. Only one or two windows were lit with the faint orange glow of candlelight. In the centre of the village, beside the oak, directly beneath the branch that had been used to hang the stranger, two soldiers stood, rifles on their shoulders, smoking cigarettes, stamping their feet. Their demeanour was casual and indifferent, as if they didn’t expect trouble from the people of Vyriv.

Seeing the few lights and the relaxed soldiers, it occurred to me that I might be wrong about the villagers still being here. Perhaps they had already been taken away and the soldiers had remained only to finish their business before moving on. But I thought about the light I’d seen beneath the door in my house, and I somehow knew that Natalia and Lara were safe. I knew they were in there, right now, awaiting their fate.

I returned to the rear of the building and took out my knife, pushing the strong blade into the crack between the window and the frame, twisting, forcing it open just far enough to put my fingers in and pull it towards me. The pop and creak was slight, but to me it was as loud as a gunshot, and when the window swung open, I dropped to the ground and shuffled away, raising the pistol, waiting.

But no one came.

I waited a while longer, then edged back and stood up to look into the bedroom. Everything was as before.

Dressed as I was, I was too bulky to climb through the window, so I took off my coat and gloves and pulled myself up, dropping quietly onto the bed and stopping again, listening for any sound. I wanted Natalia and Lara to be in the other room, but it might not be them. I had to consider that possibility. Even so, the thought of being this close to them was almost unbearable and, once again, I had to resist the urge to rush straight through. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, preparing, sharpening my mind to react appropriately to whatever I might find in the room beyond.

I went to the door, lifting the pistol, and turned the handle, pushing it open just a crack.

The weak light came from three candles in a chipped holder on the table. Beside it was a bottle of horilka and a cluster of tin cups, most of them dented. The only other object on the table was a peaked cap that I had seen before. It looked almost as if it might be new; the royal-blue crown was clean, the red band was not yet marked and the Soviet star was pristine.

I stepped into the room, raising the pistol.

For a long while we stared at each other.

Lermentov remained at the far end of the table, both hands on the surface, while I froze with arms outstretched, the pistol aimed at the OGPU policeman.

To one side of the front door a young soldier, still in his coat, grabbed for the rifle slung over his shoulder.