“How long ago was this?” Ivan asked, tonelessly. He knew all too well what Dedovschina, Russian hazing, could to do the weak and submissive males. No one in the ranks of conscripts, of course, would have dared to try to haze Ivan, but he’d undergone some very painful treatment at the hands of the officers in charge none-the-less. “Papa?”
“Six months.” Sergei whispered, then turned up his glass and flung it against the back wall of the fireplace with amazing accuracy, shattering it, the vodka flaring and then sizzling amongst the logs. “I called you home because I have finally found what camp Yuri was sent to. That is where you come in…”
“You want me to go and get him? Done. Tell me where I am going and I will bring back our Yuri.” Ivan said, though in his heart he knew there was probably very little left of the Yuri they had known.
The horse whose stable wall he’d been leaning against, jostled against Ivan’s shoulder, bringing him back to the present day, drawing him away from his darkened recollection. The fireworks had ended, probably long before, and he gave the animal a half-hearted pat on the neck before turning to go back to his own trailer. He was well aware he was being watched, had been aware for some time. Now, all there was to do was wait; soon enough his stalker would make himself known.
Chapter 4
He moved stealthily around the outer edges of the carnival, his one good eye following the progress of the giant as he walked aimlessly through the chattering, happy crowd. That eye, thankfully, still had perfect vision and he scanned the crowd around his half-brother for any sign of his prey. Not seeing what he’d come for, he started to rise but the familiar, cool metal of a gun barrel pressed down on his neck, holding him in place.
“Who are you? Why are you watching carnival? We do not tolerate fence hoppers.” The man said in an authoritative voice. “Speak, or I will call over local authorities to arrest you.”
“I am going to reach in my pocket for identification, okay?” he asked, and felt the pressure of the gun relax, but only slightly. He pulled out his wallet and unfolded it awkwardly because of the position he was in, then produced his military ID and handed it to the man behind him.
“Oh, you are military. Why are you stalking around our carnival? Military members get in free, you know this, is posted on signs all through town.” The man looked at him as he stood up, blanching slightly as the one-eyed man stood to his fully height of six and a half feet. “Dmitri Korzhakov…hey! Are you any relation to Ivan Korzhakov? Big giant man with white hair?”
“I really had hoped you would not ask that.” Dmitri sighed heavily, and in a movement almost too fast for the eyes to see, he snapped the man’s neck and let him fall to the ground. Putting his identification back in his wallet, he spit on the corpse. “Da, I am related to him. But you will not go running to him and spoil my surprise.” After wiping his sweat off the barrel of the gun, and the spit off of the man’s slackened face as modern technology made just that little bit of contact enough for a conviction because it proved he’d been there, he headed towards the fence. Looking both ways first, he hopped silently over into the carnival easily and headed for the hauler he’d seen Ivan come out of, his long black military-issue coat sliding off of the fence behind him.
Dismay passed through him and what might have been a short lived frisson of fear followed it when he popped the lock on the trailer and stepped inside. Sitting in a chair with his back to the door was the blonde giant he’d been looking for. He had planned on the element of surprise, but this blew that plan all to hell. His fists clenched at his sides as he tried to quickly think of a plan, any plan, but he had not counted on this. How had Ivan known he was even here?
“It will be cold day in Hell before you can sneak up on me, Dmitri.” Ivan said, then held out a bottle of vodka in his right hand, not bothering to turn around. When Dmitri did not take it, he shrugged and turned it up again, drinking deeply to prove it was not poisoned. “Come in and shut door; whole world does not need to hear what is being said here. I am sure you do not want everyone to know you are brother to man who is gay.” He said the last word loudly enough that Dmitri did in fact wince and glance out to see if anyone had heard. Realizing what he had done, he closed his eye furiously, but also refused to follow Ivan’s order.
“Not for long. Not if I find him before you and that fag half-brother of yours can rescue him.” He spat, and Ivan chuckled.
“When, in your pathetic life, have you ever been able to outsmart me?” Ivan asked, standing now and turning to face him before nodding at the open door. “Close fucking door, Dmitri.”
Finally Dmitri moved and closed it, then jumped when something heavy clunked outside. When he tried the door, he found it blocked. Furious, he drew his service weapon, a .45 pistol, and leveled it on his brother. “You cannot hold me here forever. Sooner or later you have to eat…” he felt something sting his neck and swatted it, plucking out a dart and staring at it, dismayed. His pistol arm dropped to his side, and Ivan lunged, catching the gun that fell from his slackened hand before it hit the trailer floor which might have caused an accidental discharge. Dmitri, however, he did not bother to catch and his half-brother hit the floor. Hard. Ivan rolled him onto his back and squatted down beside him, unloading and dismantling the weapon as he spoke.
“Now, as long as you are just lying there, brother, let me make one thing perfectly clear: Yuri is not here with me. Nyet, you have been fool all your life and you have just proven to me that things have not changed one bit. Do you really think that he would come to me after all this time?”
“Secure…apartment…twelfth…” Dmitri managed through his nearly paralyzed mouth, his eye was nearly blood-red with rage as he stared up at Ivan.
“True, but when has that ever stopped him?” Ivan shrugged, then looked over and nodded at someone, and without another word, he disappeared from Dmitri’s line of sight. Dmitri heard the heavy object being dragged away from the door, but he could not see what was happening. Soon, he became able to move and sat up in the trailer, realizing it was starting to roll. He dragged his sluggish body to the door but it was locked tightly, shut from the outside, and he knew he was in for a ride, wherever it might lead. Cursing his stupidity in thinking this was a good idea, he sat down in the same chair Ivan had occupied before and cradled his throbbing head in his hands. Hatred burned through him like a white hot fire as he realized he’d been bested by his brother. Again.
Chapter 5
Aleksei woke with a start and a shudder as a cold chill ran down his spine, the sound of something, or someone, scratching at the glass balcony door caused a wave of nausea that sent him flying into his private bathroom. He knew what was clawing at the door, he just didn’t know what to do about it. First, he picked up his landline phone and considered calling Ivan, but then he put the phone back on its charger-base. Then he thought about calling Oleg, but knew that would do him even less good. Finally, when the scratching turned to thumping, he had to do something because if he didn’t it would wake the neighbors. He walked silently to the living room and stared through the glass at the man crouching on the other side, animal like, staring back at him.
He was thinner than Aleksei had ever seen him, his hair was well down his back and a filthy mass of tangles that looked worse than anything he’d ever seen on a person. His skin was filthy, and naked except for hospital issue pants that were bloody and torn in several places, probably from where he scaled the asylum fence to escape. He sat up so that Aleksei could see his chest, and the doctor winced to see his own name carved into Yuri’s chest, the scars were red and angry, bleeding in places and clearly infected because along with the blood there was also pus draining.
Aleksei knew he had no choice, he couldn’t leave Yuri on the balcony. Now that the feral man had seen him he’d start howling if Aleksei walked away. With a heavy heart, knowing he was probably about to die, Aleksei walked forward, feeling numb, surreal even. When his outstretched hand touched the door handle, he jerked awake in h
is bed, drenched in cold sweat, clutching his chest in absolute terror. Somewhere in the apartment he could hear a phone ringing and he shot from his large bedroom down the stairs into the den. He cut his finger on the screen as he dragged it across to answer the call. The name and number were blocked, and he hoped this would be good news. Perhaps Ivan had captured him.
“Aleksei?” Ivan’s familiar, gruff voice nearly induced tears of relief, but he held onto those tears, as he did not know yet if the news was good or bad. “Code in, please.” Ivan had devised this, his paranoia from years of military service had led him to it. Now they had ways of letting each other know if they were in danger, and since Yuri wasn’t clearly present, Aleksei gave the all-clear code.
“Raven, 4-5-8-3-7.” Aleksei said patiently, having long ago grown used to Ivan’s paranoia, which had only deepened further after the war. He paused then, while he sucked on his bleeding finger a moment before he spoke again. “Ivan…what has happened?”
“I captured Dmitri about six hours ago. He is sealed inside carnival hauler headed for outer Mongolian village. There is no way for him to get out of that village as I have his motorbike. Have you seen…?”
“Nyet.” Aleksei said, pausing, considering telling him the rest. “But I did get what I think was phone call from him. Just low growling and then, when I said his name, call ended.”
Ivan was silent for so long, Aleksei thought he might have lost the connection, but finally he spoke, cautiously. “Dmitri did not seem to think he would come after you. I told him he was fool. I can be in London in one week’s time but I do not think you have time to wait.”
“Ivan…if I leave this apartment I am sitting duck…I believe that is what he, Yuri, wanted. Had I panicked and fled I would have put myself out in open, and…I do not know what would have happened next.” Aleksei sighed, his hand gripping the phone, which seemed like his one lifeline, tightly. “I…what do I do?”
“You may be right, but you also have balcony. Dmitri did not consider this, but I did. Yuri is not afraid of…anything. He will find way to get to balcony before he will ever attempt to get inside to your actual door. Can you have maintenance come and seal door? Perhaps slip them some extra money…”
“Nyet, Ivan. They will not do it. This is not Russia, more is pity. In Russia I could, for right price, have an entire firing squad ready on balcony.” Aleksei said, earning a short laugh from Ivan, though they both knew he’d never do such a thing to Yuri, whatever the danger. “Do you think…maybe if I tried to move during daylight…?” He was speaking English now, hoping that if Yuri was listening he wouldn’t hear or rather, he wouldn’t understand.
“Maybe…” Ivan said, speculatively. In the background Aleksei heard a car horn blow, followed by the brief sound of someone shouting angrily. For the first time, he realized Ivan was actually on the motorbike as they spoke, probably using some sort of earpiece inside of a helmet to talk. “I do not know if he still fears light as he used to. I am ashamed to say I have not exactly been checking up on him like I had promised papa I would.”
“None of us have, and I think my absence will hurt him worse than even Dmitri’s betrayal.” Aleksei whispered, then asked in such a quiet voice he hoped Ivan didn’t actually hear him. “Do you think…he still loves me?”
It was Ivan’s turn to sigh. “I do not know, Aleksei. I do not know if, after all he went through, he is even remotely capable or aware of what ‘love’ really is.”
“That…is what I was afraid of…” Aleksei’s purple eyes focused on the balcony as something stirred in the shadows. “He is here.” He said, and then ended the call and walked right over to the balcony door.
Chapter 6
Ivan could not express how quickly he was becoming sick of travelling by train, but this time it was absolutely necessary. He lit a cigar, not a habit he was given to enjoying unless he was terribly stressed out, and leaned against the open door of the boxcar. Unlike most humans, even those accustomed to the hard Siberian winters, Ivan was oblivious to the cold and swirling snow blown in by the train’s movement. Behind him, he heard his captive growling and he turned to look at the feral man that had once been his sweet, handsome brother. Yuri snarled and lunged at him, and Ivan struck him hard across the cheek, sending him wailing back into the corner.
He could see Yuri shivering from the cold, but he didn’t dare approach him to offer him warmth or comfort. His fingers trailed instinctively across the front of his shirt and, beneath it, he felt the sting of four deep gashes left by Yuri’s claws the previous evening. He only prayed he could get to medical supplies to clean them before they went septic, which they were bound to do based on the black filth beneath Yuri’s nails.
“Shut up, little bastard. Can you not see I am trying to save you?” Ivan snapped at him and suddenly Yuri’s wailing ceased and he crept back out of the corner, moving in the manner of a dog that has been beaten too often. The smell of him was almost too much to bear, but Ivan had seen and smelled worse in his soldiering days, so he did not recoil at his brother’s approach. He held out a strip of dried horse meat to Yuri cautiously, ready to jerk his hand back if it became necessary.
Closer and closer still Yuri crept, growling a warning though his posture said he wanted to be submissive and gentle. Ivan knew better. He had fallen for that trick once, and once was enough. Yuri stopped three feet outside of Ivan’s reach and seemed unwilling to come any closer, instead he sat up in a sort of crouching position and stared at Ivan with pitiful, watery brown eyes, a slight whimpering escaping him. Ivan gave a disgusted sigh and tossed the horsemeat into the air, Yuri caught it in his teeth and bounded back to his corner, clearly delighted.
Ivan had been obliged to torture several of the ‘deds’, the elder conscripts in charge of monitoring the new recruits, in order to get information on what had happened to Yuri. At first, they denied he was even there, saying they had never heard of him, the usual song. But the military insisted Yuri was at that facility, so Ivan had started pulling out fingernails. By the time he reached the second hand of the third man, he found out that they did indeed know of Yuri, but they wouldn’t say where he was. Here, he could see, was real fear of someone more powerful than themselves. This, he knew, was in the hands of the officers, not the ‘deds’. So, in the dark of night, he crept into the officers barracks and locked the door behind him before firing off a few rounds with his rifle to stir the men up.
Sleepy and stunned, the officers leapt out of bed, two of them remembered Ivan from his own days at a different camp and they paled and backed well away. “Where is my brother? Yuri Korzhakov is his name. Give him back to me and I will leave all of you more or less unharmed. Refuse and I will spill blood before sun rises.” He watched their faces turn, one by one, towards a particularly nasty looking piece of work hovering in the back corner of the room. “You! Come out here where I can see you better.” The man refused, naturally, so Ivan strode forward and dragged him out of the corner by his thin blue and white striped undershirt. In the center of the room, he bound the man to one of the many support poles and sat down in a chair in front of him. “Rest of you can take seat on your bunks. No talking.”
“I do not know where…” the man started but Ivan put a finger to his lips and silenced him. He grabbed the man’s hands and examined them, deciding the left hand was the one he favored. Slowly, methodically, he started to break the bones in each finger, breaking them as easily as if they were dried kindling wood. The man would not give in, though tears were flooding down his face. “Please…”
“I do not believe you. I think you know exactly where he is.” Ivan said, dropping the now-useless hand and picking up the man’s other hand. “But is okay, when we are done with fingers we will start on toes. If that does not persuade you, we can move to arms and then legs, if is necessary.”
The man was more intent on not telling than Ivan could have imagined. In the end, he left the man with all of his digits badly broken and one of his arms. It had
been the snapping of his arm that had done it, finally the man had exploded with information, and Ivan had patted him on the head gratefully and left the officers’ barracks. He found Yuri in a large metal cistern with about three inches of water covering the entire floor except for a raised area at the far end where Yuri was standing.
His half-brother was pinned against the wall, snarling, as a scene from Ivan’s own days as a young conscript repeated itself. Not something that had happened to Ivan himself, but definitely something he had witnessed. Two of the soldiers were holding Yuri, who looked to be little more than a skeleton now, while a third was stroking his matted black hair, lovingly, speaking to him in such a soft, loving tone Ivan could not make out the words. He didn’t need to, he already knew what was most likely being said.
Ivan watched as the ded’s hand slid down Yuri’s front, but before he could do any more harm, Ivan raised his rifle, and fired. The soldier dropped, his head exploding on the other two, and Yuri. The other two fled into the night, but Yuri seemed delighted to eat whatever brain matter he could find. Disgusted, Ivan approached him.
“Yuri! Stop that at once.” He snapped and Yuri looked up at him, questioningly, his eyes round and pitiful. “Come, I am taking you home.” Ivan said, his voice more gentle now, his hand outstretched in a friendly gesture. “I am your half-brother Ivan, do you not remember me?”
Perhaps an instant too late, Ivan realized that Yuri was chained by his neck to the side of the cistern and, in those mere seconds, he came to understand why. From the crouch position, Yuri leapt forward at him and stuck to Ivan’s body like a cat, his sharp claws digging through Ivan’s shirt and his flesh, ripping him open so that he roared in pain. Instinctively, Ivan drew back and punched his half-brother right between the eyes hard enough to put him out, catching him before he landed in the filthy water. Unfortunately, though it was hard to say for which one, Yuri did not stay unconscious long, but he did seem to have a newfound respect for Ivan. Rather than attacking again, he cowered back, his head down, licking away the blood that poured from his very likely broken nose.
A Life Less Ordinary Page 3