Child Thief

by Dan Smith

  35

  We remained hidden until the sun was gone and the moon cut an opening in the clear sky. We lit no fires. We gave no sign we were there. And in the darkness, I walked to the top of the slope and stood, looking out at Vyriv. The collection of houses was nothing more than a muddle of dark shapes in the night. There were one or two lights, but not many.

  Viktor came to my side, along with Evgeni and Dimitri, who were holding the rifles they’d taken from the soldiers.

  ‘We’re going to make it, aren’t we, Papa?’

  ‘Of course we’re going to make it,’ I said. ‘I’ll get your mother and Lara – Svetlana too – and we’ll leave.’

  ‘You’ll get them?’ Viktor said. ‘You mean we will.’

  I knew Viktor would protest, but there was no way I would let him come into Vyriv. However Viktor tried to persuade me, I was already determined not to give in. ‘It’s better if I go alone. I’ll be quicker and quieter that way. You can stay up here and cover me with this.’ I took the child thief’s rifle from my shoulder and held it out to my son.

  ‘You’ll need it,’ Viktor said.

  ‘Not down there.’ From Viktor’s belt I pulled the pistol with the red nine carved into the handle. ‘This will be better.’

  ‘I’m not letting you go down there on your own,’ Viktor said.

  ‘You have to. I can’t risk another son.’

  ‘It’s not a risk. You might need me, and—’

  ‘What I need is for you to watch me from here.’ I pushed the rifle into Viktor’s hands. ‘If I’m followed, I’ll need you right here to shoot at anyone behind me.’ I looked at Dimitri and Evgeni. ‘All of you.’

  ‘I won’t stay,’ Viktor protested. ‘I’m coming with you. I can’t cover you from here, it’s too dark for the scope, and you can’t see any of the village centre. You have no idea how many men might be down there.’

  ‘They won’t notice me if I’m alone.’ I stepped closer to my son so our noses were almost touching. I lowered my voice and spoke through tight lips. ‘I already have to explain to your mother that I lost one son; I won’t let that be two. Do as I ask, Viktor. Please.’

  ‘Your father’s right,’ Evgeni said. ‘You should stay.’

  ‘It’s none of your business,’ Viktor snapped, but I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, forcing him to look into my eyes.

  ‘Think what would’ve happened if we’d all been taken to Sushne. We’d be on our way to a labour camp now, or shot dead and lying in a ditch. But you were there to stop it from happening. So we can’t both go down there. We just can’t. Because if we do, who will be left to help us?’

  Viktor stared at me.

  ‘No one,’ I said. ‘There’d be no one.’ I released my grip. ‘And there has to be someone here for Dariya.’

  ‘She has Aleksandra.’

  ‘It should be you.’

  Viktor watched me, searching for any sign that I might change my mind, but saw none, so he turned his back on me and took a few steps away before stopping. ‘An hour,’ he said. ‘One hour and I’ll come looking for you.’

  ‘One hour,’ I agreed. ‘OK.’

  Viktor shook his head once and walked a few paces along the ridge, not wanting to speak to me any more. He was angry I wouldn’t allow him to go with me, but his feelings were more to do with the situation than me. He understood the reasons why I wanted him to stay away from Vyriv.

  ‘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, wait
ing 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.

  36

  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.

  ‘Leave it,’ I said. ‘I’ll kill you both.’

  The soldier stopped what he was doing and looked over to his superior. Lermentov nodded once, almost in resignation, as he lifted one hand to indicate the soldier should do as instructed. The movement was slow and weary.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you again,’ Lermentov said. ‘How did you escape?’

  I took a step forward, fighting the instinct to shoot and kill the man who had treated me so badly. ‘Where’re my wife and daughter?’ I took another step, coming into the light cast from the candle, wondering if there was any possibility of a positive outcome to this situation.

  ‘You won’t shoot me,’ Lermentov said. ‘It would only bring more soldiers, and then what would happen to Natalia and Lara?’

  ‘They’re here?’

  ‘Yes.’ He shifted his eyes to the front door and nodded gently, summoning the guard. ‘Bring me his weapon.’

  The soldier took a few nervous steps towards me, but I stood firm with the pistol pointed directly at Lermentov’s head. ‘Stay where you are.’

  The soldier stopped.

  ‘What are you going to do, Luka Mikhailovich?’ Lermentov leaned back. ‘Maybe you think you’re going to march me outside and force me to release your wife and daughter?’

  ‘I could.’ I hadn’t yet hit on a solution for resolving this situation, but Lermentov might have just given me one.

  ‘Except there’re other soldiers out there—’

  ‘Two.’

  Lermentov shrugged. ‘Well, there aren’t many, but there are more than two, so you’d have to hope none of them was keen enough to try their luck at you – maybe even kill both of us for the glory of the motherland. You know how dedicated to the cause they can be.’ He shook his head. ‘Or even if you did force me to release them, what then? You think you wouldn’t be followed? No, the only way you’re going to see them again is if I allow it.’

  ‘How do I even know they’re here?’ I tried to harden my resolve. ‘Maybe I should just kill you anyway.’

  ‘Can you afford to take the risk? After everything you’ve been through to find that little girl, to escape and come back to your family? No, I don’t think you’d throw it all away now. Not if there’s even the slightest chance of reunion. You’ve come too far, Luka; survived too much.’ Lermentov relaxed even more now, there was less of an edge to his voice and I wondered if he was drunk again. ‘Where is she, by the way? The girl?’

  ‘Safe from you,’ I said without lowering the gun.

  ‘I have no reason to harm her.’ He nodded to the soldier. ‘Take the weapon, comrade. He won’t resist.’

  The soldier reached out slowly and put his hands on the pistol. I gripped it tight, standing firm, but knew Lermentov was right – shooting him would only bring more men, and I was of no use to Natalia and Lara if I was dead.

  ‘Put it down,’ Lermentov said, ‘and I will allow you to see them.’

  I watched him.

  ‘I swear it.’

  I released the pistol, defeated. There was anger in me, but it was tainted with the knowledge that I was beaten. One man could not fight against so large a machine; I had told Viktor as much. I could only hope that Lermentov would make good on his promise and that, up on the hillside, Evgeni and Dimitri would persuade Viktor to turn away and leave.

  ‘I’ll take that,’ Lermentov held out a hand without standing up, and he waited for the soldier to hand him the weapon. ‘German,’ he said looking at me. ‘Should I ask where it came from?’

  I didn’t reply, so Lermentov leaned over and spoke quietly to the soldier without taking his eyes off me. When he was finished, the soldier nodded and left us alone, closing the front door behind him.

  It was quiet in the room, no sound from outside.

  ‘How did you escape?’ Lermentov asked, placing the pistol on the table, close to his right hand. ‘I’ve spoken to your wife so I know what a resourceful man you are, but … well, I have to ask.’

  ‘You already know, otherwise why are you here?’

  ‘Oh, you think I was expecting you? No.’ Lermentov opened out his hands. ‘I always come when they find a new village in my area.’

  ‘But why are you in my house?’

  Lermentov shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s because there’s something about you, Luka Mikhailovich, something that stayed with me. You’re a memorable man.’

  I stared at the policeman.

  ‘I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now,’ he said. ‘You’ve come all this way only to find me waiting for you. It must be very frustrating. But I can’t help admiring your tenacity. You’ve come a long way. What about the other prisoners?’

  I didn’t answer.

  ‘You freed them too?’

  There was too much confusion for me to think clearly. Anger, despair, surrender and abandon. I’d failed and all I could do now was wrestle with the muddle of
thoughts, try to put the emotions away so I could find a way out of this situation, or at least think of a way to warn Viktor and the others.

  ‘There’s really nothing you can do,’ Lermentov told me. ‘You might as well sit down.’

  I stayed as I was.

  ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Fine. You know, you’re either the bravest or the stupidest man I’ve ever met. I think I may have even said that to you once before, have I not?’ He reached for the bottle before pulling over two dented tin cups. He poured horilka into them, indicating that one of them was for me. ‘Your family,’ he said before tipping back his head and drinking the contents in one go.

  ‘What do you want?’ I asked. ‘If you need workers, take me. Let my wife and daughter go.’

  ‘I could take you all. I could take everyone in this village.’ Lermentov refilled his cup and raised it in another toast. ‘Your health.’ When he had drunk, he wiped his lips. ‘For God’s sake, why don’t you just sit down?’ He took up the pistol and pointed it at me. ‘Sit.’

  I pulled out the chair at the other end of the table and sat down. ‘I thought you dogs don’t believe in God.’

  Using one hand, Lermentov poured horilka into his cup and pushed the other one across to me. ‘Drink with me.’

  I took the cup and drank the contents, feeling the alcohol burn my throat.

  Lermentov nodded his approval and drank, then placed the pistol back on the tabletop. ‘I don’t know what anyone believes in now, Luka Mikhailovich. God, communism, our great leader. It seems like everything’s gone to shit. Everyone’s forgotten who they are and what the damn revolution was for. It’s like we’re barely human any more.’ Lermentov poured another generous measure into his cup. This time he drank without toasting.

  I continued to watch him. He was obviously drunk and his reactions would be slow. I reconsidered taking the policeman as a hostage. Lermentov had dissuaded me from it before, made me see danger I hadn’t considered, but now it seemed possible again. I saw no other option.

  ‘You’d never make it,’ Lermentov said, putting his hand on the weapon. ‘I can see how your mind’s working. You wouldn’t get away. Anyway, there’s no need. I’m going to let you see your wife and daughter.’ He watched for my reaction. ‘I just told that soldier to bring them here.’