Nevertell

by Katharine Orton

  16 Gorky Street, Apartment 4.

  “Of course,” said Lina. When she was small, Lina had committed the address of her mother’s childhood home to memory. She’d learned it by heart long before her mother had taught her to read and write a little — her way of reaching out beyond the prison fences to her family, far away.

  “The last we ever saw of her was at our home in Moscow, so she could be there, or . . .” Katya trailed off, mumbling. “All these years I’ve hoped for a miracle, but there’s no way she could possibly find us here. I should’ve known that. It’s up to me to get us out.” Lina’s mother let go of her hands. “Listen, Lina. Everyone who’s in on this plan has a part to play. Vadim thinks he’s the brains.” She rolled her eyes. “Really it’s his connections on the outside that are most useful. Alexei is the brawn. Old Gleb is a survivor — he knows about the wilderness: finding food and building shelters.”

  “And I’ve got the food,” Lina said.

  Her mother nodded, but she looked distracted and drew Lina in again. “As an extra precaution, I told them your grandmother would reward them as long as they brought you safely to her. She has great power, Lina, like I’ve always told you — she can give them whatever they need: money, protection . . . As I’ve said, we all have a part to play. Me?” Katya took the necklace, looped it over Lina’s head, and tucked it underneath her overalls. “I’m the distraction while you escape.”

  “What?” Lina could feel panic rising up her legs. They suddenly felt like stone.

  “I’ve arranged a poker game — tonight in the guard tower. With Danill and a few of the others.”

  “Mamochka! You’ll come, though — afterward?” asked Lina, gripping her mother’s hands and struggling to fight back pricking tears. “You will, won’t you?”

  “I hope to. Once I’m sure they’re engrossed in the game, I’ll slip out and follow your tracks. The storm will make it hard, but if I haven’t found you by morning, I’ve agreed on another meeting spot with Vadim. If I’ve made it, I’ll see you there. If I haven’t, you’ll need to keep your wits. Trust Old Gleb — and your gut. This”— Katya tapped the stone on the necklace through Lina’s overalls — “will help.”

  Then she sighed and squeezed Lina’s shoulder.

  Lina couldn’t begin to disguise the bewilderment on her face now. All those “ifs” had sent her thoughts into a spin. Breathing was suddenly hard. “Can’t you just come with us, Mamochka? We can take a chance that the guards won’t be looking . . .” Lina knew that would never work, even as she said it.

  Katya shook her head sadly. After a pause, she said, “I’m sorry you’re only finding all this out now, Lina. I felt it was safer that you didn’t know anything — not until the last minute. That way, if the guards had found out . . .” Katya trailed off. She didn’t need to finish her sentence. If they’d found out, Lina would’ve been innocent. Less likely to be punished.

  Lina nodded, but the heavy, cold feeling had reached her chest. Her lungs.

  “What if something goes wrong, Mamochka, and you don’t make it?”

  Her mother shrugged. “Then it goes wrong — and you carry on to Moscow to find your grandmother, like you promised. Life’s a gamble, my little one. At the moment, these are the best odds we have. Lina, breathe.”

  Lina gasped for a real breath, then another and another. She concentrated hard to make each one slower, quieter. Calmer. Staring into her mother’s steady eyes helped. Lina realized she’d been shaking. With focus, the trembling started to subside.

  There was no point in arguing. Her mother had made up her mind, and no amount of debate would shift her.

  Katya quickly got ready to leave, yanking on her own coveted fur-lined boots. She kept them either on or nearby, and anyone who’d ever tried to take them had been given a black eye for their trouble. Her mother planted a warm, hard kiss on Lina’s head. “Take off when the lights are out,” she whispered. “Good luck, Lina. We may never find another group with these skills and connections who is even willing to try an escape. And if luck’s on my side, I’ll be with you tomorrow — and we’ll both be free.”

  Lina watched her mother go, fighting every urge to throw herself at her ankles, and cling and cling until Katya stopped and stayed and held her back just as tight. Just as Lina needed her to. But that was not to be.

  Lina waited in the dark as the women around her settled down to sleep. Their blanketed bodies made a landscape of rolling hills and valleys that soon she’d need to cross. Every so often, when she thought they must surely all be asleep, one would wriggle, turn, or sit up to adjust herself before lying back down. To stay patient, Lina tried to imagine her mother’s progress across the icy path to the guard tower, then up into the warmth of that little armed lookout box — to greet her enemies as friends.

  Lina waited until the oil lamp sent out only pulses of weak blue light, and Zoya snored. Soon the thudding of Lina’s own heart was the loudest sound she could hear. Only then, with trembling, clumsy fingers, did she put on her brand-new jacket and boots and creep to the door.

  Hard, icy pellets still fell from the sky outside and tumbled in the wind like river rocks. Lina thought the storm might help them escape — cover their scent so the dogs couldn’t track them. Make them harder to see — and therefore harder to shoot.

  Or it could hinder them badly. Blind them. Drive them in circles. Freeze them.

  What had she gotten herself into? She wished more than anything that Mama was with her. Still, she had to be brave. She’d promised she would be. And besides, nothing could ever be worse than this place.

  Around the corner, she dug through fresh snow on top of old and sighed with relief when the shape of the vegetable sack showed through. It was still there, thankfully, as she’d left it.

  Lina wedged the sack firmly inside her new jacket — tucked under her armpit. It was much better hidden in there than under her overalls, and she could pin it against her body. It was strange, but the stone necklace against her chest felt hotter by the second. She did up the jacket and set out.

  Straight into the path of Commandant Zima.

  Commandant Zima reached for his pistol. Lina froze. Would he do it? Pull the trigger? She winced, expecting the bang at any second. Instead, silence.

  The commandant, recognizing Lina, put the pistol back in his belt. He looked disappointed that it was only her — not a “troublemaker.”

  “Little Lina,” he said, unsmiling. “You startled me. What are you doing out here?”

  She opened her mouth to make up something — anything — but the commandant interrupted, answering his own question. “Looking for your mama, I expect.” As he strode toward her across the cleared path, Lina listened to his black leather boots crush the grit to dust. She tried not to flinch at the sound. What mood would he be in this evening?

  He looked her up and down with narrowed eyes. “What’s this?” he asked. “A new coat?” He reached out to feel the collar. Lina didn’t dare move — or breathe. “Good quality,” he said, clearly impressed. “Which poor wretch did Katya extort this from?” Lina stayed as still as she could. Would he confiscate the jacket — and discover the hidden vegetable sack? Or let it pass?

  A burst of raucous laughter hit them with the wind — a woman’s voice mingled in. It came from the guard tower.

  Commandant Zima nodded toward it. “She’s up there, you know,” he said. “Poker again.” His gaze lingered a little too long on the tower, and a certain look came over his face, a look that often appeared when he spoke about her mother. A little sad. A little pained. It only lasted an instant. “Let them have their fun,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll be waiting for them after the game.”

  Lina felt herself bristle like an animal. What could she do? There was no way she could warn her mother. She just had to hope her mother could slip past him.

  He glanced back at Lina. A thin smile crept across his pale lips. “Oh. Don’t look so worried. I won’t go too hard on her, not on your mama.
But I’m the commandant here, little Lina. I have my job to do.” He turned his attention back to the jacket. “Looks thick,” he said, reaching out to pat the sides.

  Lina took a step back. “It is,” she said. “And warm.” The vegetable sack shifted. It was slipping from under her arm. She squeezed it against her, hard. She had the sack by no more than a corner.

  And it was still slipping.

  All Lina could do was grit her teeth as the last piece of material escaped from the grip of her underarm. The sack slipped and then stopped suddenly — restricted by the slightly tighter hem. She hoped Commandant Zima hadn’t seen it move beneath the thick layers of her jacket or heard the vegetables shift.

  Zima closed his outstretched fingers into fists and slowly placed the fists behind his back. “You can keep the jacket, little Lina. As I’m in a generous mood. You’ll remember that I did you this favor, won’t you?”

  Lina nodded quickly. “Yes, Commandant.”

  “But there’s a condition,” he added. Of course there was. He went on, “If any of the degenerates around here try to take it, you must tell me immediately. It’s been a while since I made an example.”

  Lina knew all about his “examples.” She wouldn’t wish that on anyone — not even on the likes of Vadim. She didn’t care what the gossips said — this man wasn’t her father. He couldn’t be. Everything in Lina recoiled from the idea.

  The commandant stepped around her and strode on. She let her breath escape in a low hiss, but the release of air from her lungs started the vegetables off moving again. She had to get around the corner before they fell out all over the square.

  “Lina?” It was the commandant again. His voice cut through the gloom behind her. She tensed. If she turned around now, she risked spilling his precious vegetables all over the dirt at his boots.

  “Yes, Commandant?” she answered, without turning.

  “You know where she is now, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Commandant.”

  “So where are you going?”

  Lina pressed the jacket tight against her, still staring straight ahead. “I don’t know, Commandant.”

  “Get back to your quarters. I want you fresh for working in the greenhouse tomorrow. Everything has to be perfect for the banquet.”

  “Yes, Commandant.” Lina dared a quick glance over her shoulder.

  He gave her a confused scowl, pulled up his collar against the howling wind, and strode into the darkness — just as the vegetable sack slipped out from under her coat and thudded into the snow. Green beans and onions rolled everywhere.

  Lina let out a long sigh of relief.

  After hurriedly picking up the vegetables, Lina tucked them under her jacket again, roughly this time, and waddled to the snowbank where she was supposed to meet Vadim’s gang. To see her, anyone might think she was desperate for the toilet. She dived behind the snowbank and looked around, but Vadim and the others weren’t there.

  What was going on? This was definitely where they were supposed to meet. Had Vadim and his gang been caught? Or had the whole thing been a way to set her and her mother up? A cruel trick to get her to betray Commandant Zima and seal her own fate? Zima rewarded tattletales, and the thugs were often used in this way to police the other prisoners. Sometimes they would play games too, to take down those the other inmates thought of as favorites.

  She should have listened to Bogdan. To her own gut instinct. She shouldn’t have trusted Vadim.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move in the darkness. The movement was small, but it was amplified by the bulge of a tear. A slip of a figure hurried between the snow and the wire. Something skeletal. Barely there.

  “Psst,” it said, waving an arm. “This way.”

  Old Gleb.

  Lina had never been so relieved in all her life. She hurried toward him.

  There she found the other two as well, hidden behind more snow and crouched by a low hole in the wire fence. The fence stretched over ten feet tall and ran the entire way around the camp. It had little barbs all over it that looked like hundreds of spiders crawling along a web. Even the horizontal lengths of wire resembled spider silk, now that the frost made them iridescent in the moonlight.

  All three men were bundled up in woolen jackets, with long-eared ushankas on their heads and thick felt boots on their feet — probably stolen from other poor prisoners, who’d now be left with nothing. She thought of Zoya, Bogdan, and all the others. If only they could all escape. If only no one had to be left behind.

  “What do you think you’re doing, throwing those around?” snarled Alexei with a nod toward the vegetable sack stuffed beneath her jacket.

  Lina’s relief at finding them gave way to anger. It carried on the swell of her adrenaline — which made her brave. “Do you ever cheer up, Alexei?” she snapped. “I mean, do you always have to be so miserable?”

  Old Gleb spluttered through bone-thin fingers. Lina knew instantly that she’d gone too far. No one ever spoke to Alexei the Butcher that way. He had a reputation as a killer, after all, that he regularly lived up to.

  Alexei loomed over her. “You’ve got a big mouth for a little girl,” he said.

  The wind clawed at Lina’s exposed cheeks and stole her breath. It barely ruffled Alexei’s hair. It was the glint of moonlight that made her look down. Alexei was holding a large hunting blade.

  “What have you got that for?” she asked, taken aback.

  Vadim stepped between them. “Enough,” he said. “We need to get moving before the real storm hits. And first we need to cross the breach.”

  Lina’s insides felt like they’d turned to water. She couldn’t believe she was about to cross the breach: a ten-meter-wide gap between the wire fence they stood next to and a second, outer fence made of crisscrossed wood. The second fence was even higher, and climbing it would leave them exposed. It was ramshackle, however — badly looked after. If they hit the right spot, they might find a hole big enough to clamber through, or Alexei, at least, might be able to pull some of it apart to make a gap.

  The big problem was the breach itself. No prisoners were ever allowed inside it. If the guards caught anyone there, they would shoot them on sight.

  Fresh powdered snow already half filled the small hole in the wire. Perhaps it was an old escape route the guards had never found. Perhaps Alexei had cut it with his knife — although that blade was made for flesh, not metal. Alexei scooped some of the snow away, threw two large sacks through, and then squeezed out after them.

  Old Gleb was next. “At least the guard dogs have been fed today,” he said to Lina grimly.

  He was right. Yesterday several older prisoners had died of pneumonia in the ward next to her mother’s. It didn’t bear thinking about, what those dogs were fed.

  Old Gleb slipped through the hole with ease.

  Vadim turned to Lina, who still clutched the sack of vegetables against her chest beneath her jacket. “You next,” he said. “We need to cross the breach as quickly as possible to avoid being seen. Stay close to the others so you don’t get separated on the other side. We wouldn’t want our rations to get lost with you, would we?”

  His words made Lina’s stomach turn. She pulled the vegetable sack out from under her jacket and crouched down to peer through the hole. Bright snow spiraled against blackness on the other side. She couldn’t even see the outer fence.

  The hole was already filling up again. With a deep breath, she pushed the sack through and followed close behind.

  The full force of the wind hit her. Lina’s head spun. Snowflakes — pulled and pummeled into long, snaking streaks — whorled and whizzed all around. Staring at them spinning in a black sky made her lurch with dizziness. The coldness reached its fingers inside her skull.

  Lina staggered backward. In her spin, she caught sight of the bright guard tower, the shadows moving around inside. Right now, that was where her mother was. Would Lina ever see her again? The thought was so crushing that she almost tu
rned back immediately. But Lina remembered her promise — to look for her grandmother in Moscow, whether her mother made it out or not. She didn’t want to remember her mama as a flickering shadow, though — as snatches of laughter. A phantom. She wanted the real thing. Warm and fierce, with her smell of wool and pine.

  Vadim grasped Lina around the shoulders. “Keep moving,” he hissed in her ear. “Katya can only do so much . . .”

  Lina flushed. Her mother had risked everything to make sure Lina made it out. She couldn’t let her down. She had to go on, no matter what. The wind. The snow. The darkness. Freedom — it had all overwhelmed her. She’d let Vadim’s warning about not getting separated slip right out of her head. Stupid. She couldn’t afford to get distracted like that.

  Vadim shoved her forward. They ran on together, Lina not daring to look back again in case she tempted fate and someone saw her. She felt more exposed — as if she was being watched — than ever before. At any moment, she expected bullets to start whizzing past. That’s if they missed the first time.

  Old Gleb and Alexei swam back into view. They were crouched next to the outer fence’s hodgepodge of wood. “Come on, come on!” urged Gleb. He shone a flashlight onto the fence. Alexei grasped a plank and strained — his fingers turning a ghostly white with the effort. The plank gave way with a splintering sound.

  He yanked on another piece, which bent in two rather than snapping. It must’ve been damp. Rotten. He made a gap wide enough for Old Gleb to slip through, taking the flashlight with him. Lina wasn’t about to get left behind. Not here in the breach. She dived in too, the bad wood catching on her clothes and crumbling off in chunks. Vadim followed immediately — and then Alexei himself did. Giant Alexei — through a tiny gap. It took all of them to pull him out the other side.

  Once through and on his feet, Alexei snatched the flashlight from Old Gleb. All together, they ran. In the jerking light, a treeless white wasteland stretched out — odd lumps were scattered around that might conceal dead wood or juts of rock. Lina hated not knowing what she might step on — that at any moment something hidden could trip her up. As if to prove her fears were founded, her foot plunged through ice. The freezing mud-water flooding her boot made her gasp. She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the pain.