by Dan Smith
‘I don’t know, but we need to be prepared. You don’t walk too far from the village without the things you need to survive. And if we find Dariya … well, she might not be alone.’ I watched Petro for any kind of reaction, but he guarded his feelings well. He kept his eyes down as he finished the last of his breakfast.
‘Each of us will be armed,’ I said. ‘Petro, you can take the rifle we found on the sled yesterday. Viktor will carry my old rifle. If I’m right, if someone has taken Dariya, there’s a chance he might not want us to catch him. Do you both understand?’
Both boys nodded.
‘Petro?’
‘Yes. I understand.’
‘Good.’ I finished the cigarette then crept through to the other room, where Lara was still sleeping. I sat on the very edge of her bed and leaned over to brush away her hair and kiss her cheek. She smelled warm, and she moved slightly under my cold face.
‘I’ll find your cousin,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll bring Dariya back. I promise.’
I kissed her once more before slipping from the room.
We wore our heaviest coats to keep out the worst of the cold and we put on our boots before Natalia stopped us.
‘Wait.’ She called us back. ‘Sit for a moment.’
I nodded to the boys and we sat at the table in silence, a traditional few minutes for luck, and when Natalia stood, we went to the door. Like a hunting party moving out at dawn to catch the trickiest prey, we were quiet, lost in our own thoughts of what the day might bring. We put our rifles over our shoulders and our packs on our backs. I slung my leather satchel across me so it hung at my side, and I waited for the boys to kiss their mama.
As I watched them, I thought how much they looked like men, soldiers perhaps, standing with their rifles and their firm intent, but they were still Natalia’s sons and they were not too old to show affection for their mother. I liked to see how much they loved and respected her, and I knew it was she who had made them strong.
When I opened the door, the cold swept in, bringing with it the first glimpses of light in the sky. Viktor and Petro stepped out into the snow and I stayed back to kiss Natalia.
‘Come back soon,’ she said. ‘Find her.’
‘We will.’
She put a hand on my face, nodded once, and stepped back, closing the door.
I stared at the wood for a moment, then turned towards the approaching dawn. I looked up at the sky and took a deep breath before studying the snow around the front of the house. It was grey and brown, trodden down to the mud in patches, frozen in places where men’s boots had crushed it, and it had set hard in the night.
‘That’s good,’ I said. ‘There was no more snow last night.’
We didn’t need to go to Dimitri’s place; he was already on the road, making his way towards us. He had his head down as if he were watching his own boots rising and falling in the snow, but he looked up as he approached the gate, seeing us standing there, waiting.
‘Luka,’ he said, nodding to me and looking at the boys.
‘Svetlana all right?’ I asked.
Dimitri shrugged. ‘Worried.’
‘Of course.’
‘She was surprised you’re going to help, after …’ He looked away.
‘What kind of man d’you think I am that I’d just sit back and do nothing? And it’s not just because Dariya’s my niece. Not just because I promised Lara I’d find her cousin. I’d do this for any child here, no matter who her father is.’
Dimitri’s face twisted and he took a step forward. ‘Is this how it’s going to be?’
‘It’s how it usually is with you, Dimitri. But you’re right – we should put our differences aside for now. Agreed?’
‘Agreed.’
‘You brought what I told you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ I turned and headed round the house, Viktor and Petro either side of me, Dimitri behind.
Like that, we made our way up the slope towards the trees, following the furrowed path the men had made yesterday. When we reached the top, I showed Viktor and Petro the tracks I’d found, and I instructed them to test the depth of them, just as I’d done with Dimitri, then we set off into the trees.
The day was beginning now, one or two blackbirds coming to life in the branches as if they’d been frozen during the night and were beginning to thaw. The trunks were spaced wide enough for us to walk two abreast, leafless limbs tangling together above our heads. In the summer, when the snow was gone and the sun was stronger, the ground would be shaded where we were walking now. The leaves would be rich and green, and the shrubs would be vibrant with colour and smell. The black soil would be soft under our boots and the scent from it would be rounded and earthy. Right now the whole area was a dark and lifeless scrub, but this barren form would make the search easier. During the summer it would be more difficult to track a man on this ground. The signs would be harder to read, easier to hide.
I stopped and looked at the tracks leading away into the trees. A long line of footprints heading only in one direction.
‘We should be able to follow him easily,’ said Viktor.
‘For now,’ I agreed.
‘Those are his tracks?’ Petro asked. ‘Just like that? He didn’t try to hide anything?’
The same thing had been in my mind. It was strange that someone who would take a child – steal a child, Natalia had said – wouldn’t try to cover his tracks.
‘He probably didn’t have time,’ Dimitri said, speaking the words as if to an imbecile. ‘He was in a hurry.’
I glanced at my brother-in-law but let the comment pass. I could think of a different reason why the thief might not have covered his tracks – because he had already killed Dariya and left her somewhere further along the trail. The stranger who had come to Vyriv two days ago had not been searching for his children; I believed he had been looking for the man who murdered them, and this might be what the future held for us.
‘Keep your eyes open,’ I said as I began walking again. ‘There may be other tracks. Other people.’ I turned to look at Dimitri. ‘And keep off the prints. Keep them fresh.’
We continued to trek east for close to a kilometre before I noticed a change in the markings and held up a hand for the others to stop. ‘Don’t speak,’ I warned them.
I moved forward to where the disturbance was and crouched to examine the area. There were two sets of footprints here. One set was the same as those we’d been following, but the other was smaller. The prints were in a haphazard pattern, scuffed, as if the feet that had made them had kicked at the snow or been dragged through it. I stood and scanned the ground among the trees.
‘Come closer,’ I told the others. ‘But be careful.’
When Dimitri was beside me, I pointed at the smaller prints. ‘These could be Dariya’s. You recognise them?’
Dimitri shook his head. ‘They’re smaller. They could be hers but … What happened here?’
‘Maybe he got tired,’ I said. ‘He must be strong to have carried her this far, but no one can carry the weight of a child for ever. He must’ve put her down so she could walk herself.’
‘And?’
‘And maybe she tried to get away. See these?’ I pointed. ‘It looks like she tried to run back.’
‘She got away from him?’
‘He caught up with her.’
Dimitri grimaced and looked away. He twisted around, searching in every direction. ‘You sure? Maybe she’s here somewhere. Maybe she’s hiding. We should check.’ He started to move away from them.
‘She didn’t get away,’ I stopped him. ‘They left here together, both of them walking. Look, you can see.’ I pointed at the trail beyond the place where the snow was most disturbed. I knew that Dimitri could see it – all of us could – but I understood Dimitri’s desperation and I knew I would have had to control myself if it was Lara who had been stolen.
‘But it means she’s still alive?’ Viktor asked.
‘Yes. It m
eans she’s still alive.’ Or at least, I thought, she was still alive when this happened. ‘Come on, let’s keep going.’
As we continued to walk, Petro came alongside me. ‘This is too easy, isn’t it?’
‘Hm?’
‘Why wouldn’t he try to hide his tracks? You think there’s more to this?’
I was surprised to hear Petro asking the question, not Viktor. I thought it was Viktor who was most suited to hunting, but I could see that Petro looked at a situation in a different way. He thought more deeply and, in his mind, he had extended our situation to anticipate what might be ahead, rather than only what we could see.
I looked down at the footprints in the snow. These were messier now, not so crisp. These were Dariya’s footprints, stepped in by larger feet, the two sets of marks disturbing each other, fighting for room. ‘How would he hide them out here?’ I asked. ‘He could try to disguise them, I suppose, try to mislead us, but it would take time. No, he knew we wouldn’t follow at night so he took his chances.’ And for a second I felt a stab of regret that we hadn’t come out in the dark.
‘Do you think, if you’d come last night, you would’ve caught up with him?’ Petro asked.
I was shocked by the question. It was as if he had read my thoughts.
‘I don’t mean you should have,’ Petro said. ‘I just mean … if you had.’
‘I don’t know.’ I glanced back at Dimitri, who was walking in front of Viktor. ‘I don’t know.’
But I knew the man had been carrying the weight of a child for some time and would have been tired. We would have been fresh and free to move quickly. Perhaps when the man had stopped here, and Dariya attempted to escape, perhaps then I might have been there for her, to scoop her into my arms and take her home. I clenched my teeth and experienced a loose feeling inside when I considered I might have made a wrong decision. But I pushed the thought away. I could think only of what was and what would be. We would find Dariya alive and we would take her home.
‘No,’ I said. ‘It was the right decision not to look for her in the dark.’
With those words repeating in my mind, we moved on in silence as the sun rose higher, casting itself through the trees so it lay ahead of us, skimming the white land and dazzling us. I kept my head down, and told the others to do the same, but the light was harsh and began to blur my vision, so I looked for a shaded spot and we stopped for long enough to dig down to the soil.
We warmed and moistened the dirt, rubbing it on the skin around our eyes before pulling our hats and scarves back over our faces. We all knew that men could be blinded by the sun’s, reflection on the snow, their eyes burned sightless, so the dirt and coverings would give us some protection. As a soldier I had learned to cut slits in birch bark and wear it like a mask, but we didn’t have time to look for the right tree nor to construct masks from its skin, so for now the coarse dirt would be enough.
And with the earth drying and hardening on our faces, we moved on, following the tracks which carried on before us. The large prints, with the section missing from the right foot; the smaller prints that scuffed alongside them, the stride of their maker too short to clear the surface of the snow with each step.
The density of the forest tightened and expanded so that in some places we could walk only in single file: me at the head of the line, followed by Dimitri, his breath heavy and regular, his footfall clumsy. It was in such an area, three or four hours after we had begun our journey, in a place where the hornbeam grew close, that the tracks took a sharp turn to the left, striking into a place where the trees grew thick and tight.
I removed one glove and pulled the revolver from my pocket, raising my other hand, looking back and putting a finger to my mouth.
‘What is it?’ Dimitri asked, coming close.
‘You see that?’ I pointed to a place where the ground swelled in an unnatural way, as if something large had been lying there when the snow fell, leaving a distended bulge.
‘What is it? Is someone there?’
‘Let’s have a look.’
The shelter was crude but I knew it would have provided cover and warmth. It was a mound of snow, brought together in a patch where the trees were just wide enough apart to take its size. It wasn’t large, and would be almost invisible if it weren’t for the tracks that led to it and around it.
‘He made this?’ Dimitri asked.
‘I think so.’
I walked around the shelter, seeing how well it had been put together. ‘It’s good,’ I said. ‘Strong.’ I’d made shelters like it before, collecting snow into a mound and hollowing it out to make a space to sleep in, away from the cold. Whoever had built this one had even built a low breaker in front of the opening, to stop the wind from coming in. I looked in, seeing the ventilation hole in the top and the compacted snow where someone had slept.
I lay on my stomach and dragged myself inside, searching for anything that might be left behind, turning onto my back and spotting something stuck to the uneven ceiling. I picked off the long black hair that was stuck to the snow, the end hanging like the thread of a spider’s web.
‘How long would it take to make this?’ Dimitri asked.
‘It’s not big,’ I said, turning onto my stomach and pushing myself out. ‘An hour maybe. The snow should be left to harden, stop it from collapsing, but …’ I stood up and shrugged. ‘He would have been in a hurry; perhaps he would’ve taken a risk.’
‘Over here, Papa. A fire, I think.’
I went over to where Viktor was standing, kicking at a place where the snow had been disturbed. There was blackened wood beneath.
‘He had to keep warm,’ I said. ‘Eat something.’ As I spoke, I looked up at Dimitri. What we had both seen on the sled was now in our minds, the way the girl’s flesh had been cut, and I wished I hadn’t said anything about eating. ‘She’s safe,’ I said. ‘I know it. Look.’ I held up the single hair.
‘Is that Dariya’s?’ Dimitri asked, coming closer.
‘Unless we’re looking for someone else with long black hair,’ Viktor said.
I waved a hand to silence him, let him know he’d spoken out of turn. ‘And this man knows how to survive out here,’ I said. ‘He kept her safe last night. He built a fire and a shelter. She’s alive and we’ll find her.’
Dimitri took the hair between his finger and thumb. ‘It’s hers. I know it.’ He removed one glove and touched the hair with his own skin. ‘I know it.’ He snapped his head up to look at me. ‘We should go; come on.’
‘Wait. Let me—’
‘Wait?’ said Dimitri. ‘We haven’t got time to wait.’
‘Another minute,’ I said. ‘Let me look for any more signs.’
‘Like what?’ Dimitri put the hair in his pocket and pulled his glove back on. ‘What kind of signs? There are the prints.’ He pointed. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Those aren’t the prints. Not the right ones, anyway. Those are the tracks he left when he looked for firewood.’
‘How do you know that?’ Dimitri asked me. ‘How can you be sure?’
‘Because they come and go?’ Petro suggested. ‘And because you can see places down there where wood has been snapped away from dead branches.’
‘That’s right,’ I said.
‘Well, we can’t wait any longer,’ Dimitri said. ‘We have to go. We’ve delayed long enough. I shouldn’t have listened to you; we should’ve gone last night. If we’d gone last night we’d have found her by now.’
I didn’t answer him.
‘Already he stopped back there.’ Dimitri looked behind us. ‘And now this? An hour he was here, making this? We would have found him, right here.’
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘Or maybe we’d have lost our way in the dark.’
‘He didn’t get lost coming here.’
‘No. But he wasn’t following tracks. We made the right decision.’
‘And he had a fire,’ Dimitri went on. ‘We’d have seen it.’
‘The fire is right ba
ck here, away from the shelter. It would have been almost invisible in the trees.’
‘I would have seen it,’ Dimitri said.
‘We probably wouldn’t have even got this far,’ I told him.
Dimitri stared at him. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’
‘What?’
‘This. Being out here. Tracking. It’s what you like to do. All that hunting. I know you go out alone, sometimes for days. It’s in your blood – the only thing that makes you happy.’
‘You don’t know anything about me.’
‘I know you’re a brutal Russian who fought in more armies than you can probably remember. Killed more men than hunger. This excites you. You’re enjoying this. It’s probably the only thing that makes you feel alive.’
I stared at him, angry and guilty because there was a scent of truth in his words.
‘And you’re enjoying making me look stupid.’
‘If you look stupid, it’s nothing to do with me. Even if we had got this far last night, this fire would’ve been deep in these trees. Why d’you think he came in here, where the trees are so thick? We could’ve walked within five metres of it and not known it was there.’
‘We would’ve seen the tracks.’
‘In the dark?’ I pushed my doubts aside. ‘At best we’d have ruined the trail, killed any chance of following, and at worst we’d be lying frozen in the snow, dead, while he walks away with your daughter.’
‘You’re punishing me,’ Dimitri said. ‘Punishing me for what happened yesterday.’
‘Punishing you? You’re punishing yourself, Dimitri. What happened yesterday was shameful, but has no bearing on this. You think I’d delay finding Dariya because of what you did yesterday? This isn’t about you.’
He said nothing.
‘Don’t ever doubt that I will do all I can to find your daughter,’ I told him.
Dimitri nodded.
‘OK, then, come and look at this.’ I grabbed his coat and pulled him, but Dimitri knocked my hand away.
‘Don’t pull me around.’
‘Then stop being an ass. Now, come with me.’