Andrea Bennett: Two Cousins of Azov

‘Hit it!’ shrieked Sveta.

Once more he swung the axe above his head. This time he arched backwards with a sharp grunt to scythe the blade down in a swift, slashing stroke.

But as Vlad arched backwards and the blade began its descent, the door itself was opening, pushed from within. Tolya had never locked it. Gor and Sveta had failed to try it. And now something was escaping. There was no time to shout. Eyes popped and mouths grimaced as smoke belched from the doorway. They heard the crunch, and they felt the thud as the swinging door pushed the air from Vlad’s chest. It hit him in a neat line from nose to sternum and hip, throwing him backwards. The axe flew from his hands, rotating through the air, the blade sharp and shiny as a shard of glass.

As the axe somersaulted, something came cannoning through the door, a blur of movement, big and fast as a train bolting the tracks. The axe flew, the body charged. A roar echoed around them, followed by a scream. The axe fell. Sveta threw her hand to her mouth and screwed her eyes shut. A thump rang out, a splitting sound… and the clang of the axe blade as it bounced and hit the tiles.

Something strange and terrible rolled unevenly across the floor, coming to rest at Gor’s feet. He looked down, and hopped sideways.

It was a head.

Valya’s scream was the shrillest sound Albina had ever heard. More shrill than Kopek on a bad day. More shrill than Albina, when bitten by Kopek. More shrill than Albina at that very moment, issuing her battle cry as she charged forward through the entrance hall toward the light of the corridor beyond. It was a sound that would stay with her always. It pierced her mind as she careered after the mannequin, thrown out through the door by the scary girl, after Albina had charged her with it for the seventh time. It had served Albina well, and now it led the way to freedom. The ribbons of the shaman’s cap streamed behind her as she dashed forward, coughing smoke and wiping smuts from her eyes, life a blur around her until she came into the light. She heard the scream, saw a fat woman faint – straight into her mama’s arms. Her mama staggered, holding the weight and controlling the fall, her eyes pinned on Albina.

Gor was nearest: he reached out when he saw her. She flung herself into his wiry arms, half laughing, half sobbing, not even looking around for Olga, not caring, knowing the fight was over. The touch made it real.

‘You’re safe!’ he roared. ‘Tremendous girl!’

‘ Malysh! ’ Sveta leapt Valya’s prone body to dash forward. ‘Oh look at you, poor baby!’ She squeezed her daughter to her chest. Albina unpeeled her face.

‘Don’t fuss, Mama, I’m fine. But we must save him !’ She pointed to the open doorway into the darkness beyond.

‘Who, baby-kins?’

‘The old man! She’s still in there with him! Olga!’

A figure in black came plunging through the smoke-stained doorway, dashing at full-pelt, cat-like, feral.

Polly streaked through the door. She swerved around Vlad’s outstretched hands, past Gor’s braced arms, straight down the corridor, eyes like car headlights, mouth twisted with pain as she leapt the headless mannequin and the struggling Valya. She sprinted for the doors. Sveta looked to Gor, Gor looked to Vlad, still leaning against the wall trying to stem the bleeding from his nose. Vlad shrugged: it was too late.

Alla bided her time. She was standing half-way down the corridor, almost invisible in a doorway. All it needed was a few centimetres, the raising of her toe at the right moment, and she felled Polly like a child in a sack race. With barely a murmur, the girl slowed from twenty kilometres per hour on the straight to zero kilometres per hour flat on her face. The slap of the impact echoed up the hall as she slid to a halt.

‘That’s what you get,’ hissed Alla, ‘for trying to help someone. I get her a job at the pharmacy, and she turns to kidnap!’ She bent over Polly’s groaning form. ‘I’m going to tell your mother all about this, you know. She won’t be pleased. How could you do this to me?’

Polly’s response was muffled by the floor tiles.

A noise in the doorway brought their heads back around. Out of the billowing darkness emerged a man: smallish, plumpish, rocking on his feet, green eyes blazing in the half-light as he held a smashed lamp to his face, as if its blackened glass and broken wick could make sense of the scene around him. One eye was swollen and there were claw marks across his cheek.

Gor dropped the little string bag from his shoulder, face ashen.

‘Wha…?’

‘Not dead!’ cried Albina. ‘Just gone! That was it! I’m sorry she’s not Olga, but he really is—’

‘My cousin! My cousin! This is… a miracle!’ Gor wobbled forwards to take his cousin’s hands and led him out into the light. ‘Saints be praised! I can’t believe it!’

Tolya’s eyes streamed from the smoke and it took him a moment to clear his mind and see who held his hands. He stared into the face of his cousin. ‘You’ve come at last!’ he beamed. ‘How I hoped you would!’ The broken lamp dropped to the floor as he enfolded his cousin in his arms, his head resting on Gor’s chest. ‘All is well. All is well! We are home. Here we are. Come in, cousin, come in everyone, please! There’s been a fire, I’m afraid. I broke the lamp. But it’s mostly smoke. All is well.’ Together the two old men began to shuffle through the apartment door.

‘That’s cousin Tolya?’ Sveta’s chin wobbled with curiosity and she laughed into her neck.

‘He came home – he walked, Mama! Well, some of the way. He just left. He wasn’t dead.’

‘So he got home… bravo!’ Sveta smiled into Albina’s hair and kissed her forehead. At the door, she turned and called in a louder, authoritative voice, ‘You’d better phone an ambulance, Alla! Master Tolya looks concussed. And so perhaps is Vlad. And maybe Polly. And possibly Valya. Oh, and the police; we must call the police, I think.’

‘Very well!’ Alla hopped up the corridor to give her friend a prod. ‘Valya, come on now, pull yourself together.’ Valya groaned and waved her arms as though swimming up the hallway. ‘You’re never ill! Rouse yourself and guard that Polly – although I don’t think she’ll be going anywhere for a while.’ Alla snorted. ‘I must call the services. And you’re just lying about dribbling. Come on now, friend!’

‘Akh, but… the body!’ Valya’s tiny black eyes reappeared above cheeks still the colour of alabaster. ‘The head! Oh… it rolled at his feet! Urgh!’

Alla knelt. ‘Valya, milaya – borrow my glasses. Look, eh? Where is the blood? A mannequin: that’s all. You fainted over a few splinters, my sturdy friend. Maybe it’s you who needs the vegetarian diet?’

Valya pushed herself up, scowling. ‘Devil take it! Splinters? Wood? How was I to know? It came shooting out like a demon – straight for me! And the axe… oh my God, that came straight for me too! And the head!’ She crossed herself with jerking movements.

Behind her, Polly groaned.

‘Come on, now – guard the prisoner! Do your duty!’ Alla pulled Valya to her feet and stalked off to find the telephone.

‘I have to keep you here. Understand? I don’t want to do this, but I must.’ Valya bent her knees to rest on the other girl’s chest. ‘Don’t squirm now, Polly. It would be better for you if you just did as you’re told, for once.’

The girl groaned as Valya shifted her weight. ‘Don’t even think about it!’

Vlad limped up the corridor to crouch by the pair. He reached out a hand to Polly’s brown-black hair.

‘How could you, Polly?’ he asked in a soft voice.