Can't Let Her Go

He nods and we follow the arrow, turning into another street. We’re not far. We’ll be there in a few minutes. I hope there is a train. I want to get away from this town as quickly as possible. Every second here reminds me of those two … animals. Every second reminds me of the way I wanted to kill the giant. Once we get away, I can try to forget.

A middle-aged woman walking from the opposite direction stares at us curiously.

I look her straight in the eye, but next to me I feel Hunter’s unease.

In a way, I’m in control. I know the dialect. I know the people and the customs. What looks normal and what doesn’t. He sticks out like a sore thumb. Without the Sherpa, he has to believe what I tell him. That may be the ticket for me to get away from him. I can lie or trick him. He won’t know. I’ll find a way to escape, but not here. It will have to wait till we get to Moscow. It will be crowded there, and I will have more opportunities.

Silently, I point to the sign indicating a train station and he makes the turn.

As we walk into the parking lot, I think we might be in luck. There’s a train waiting, and it looks like it is heading to Moscow. Well, that’s what the sign on the platform it is next to says. “The train looks like it is going to Moscow,” I say. “Perhaps they will have room for two more.”

Hunter looks relieved. He glances around him. “I hope so. It’s up to you to get us on that train.”

“Should be no problem.”

We walk quickly, but we don’t hurry. I lead the way through the station which isn’t crowded and that’s a good thing. No one stands at the ticket office, and that could be good or bad. Good if there are seats available. Bad, if the train is stuck for some reason. I possess the same anxiety as Hunter has. The longer we hang around this town, the more risk we take. The way those two men looked, I don’t know if I would be able to convince the police we acted in self-defense.

The woman in the ticket office tells me we’re in luck. There is a cabin we can have, and while the train doesn’t go all the way to Moscow, it will connect with another train in a few hours. That train will take us all the way. Hunter hands me his credit card, but I notice it is not in his name. The woman runs it through her machine, we get the tickets, she tells us to get on the train right away as it will leave in fifteen minutes.

I thank her, and we head for the platform. The station is easy to navigate. There are signs. The American spots an ATM, and we stop long enough to get some cash. That’s probably smart. We are the last to board. The official who greets us is old and reminds me of the Sherpa. He points out the way, and we move down the narrow aisle.

Our little room is in the middle of the train, and I am happy to plop down on the seat. This day has been horrific. I think that only a little while ago, I was home with my parents. I was as clean and bright as an angel. Now, after three deaths, I’m on my way to Moscow to be handed over to a monster. I feel as if my life with my parents happened many years ago. So much has happened to me that I’m not even the same person I was. I look into Hunter’s face and I know I will be even more different when I disappear in Moscow.

“Good work,” Hunter says. “I can hardly believe we made it.”

“We’re not in Moscow yet,” I remind him. “And we’re not out of Russia.”

“I know the answer is most probably no, but have you ever been arrested?”

I shake my head. “Never.”

“Ever given anyone your fingerprints?”

“No.”

“Good. When they find those two goombas, they might or might not process the house. If they do, they’ll find our prints. Mine are on file in America, but I don’t think the Ruskis have access. If yours aren’t on file anywhere, their chances of finding us are pretty small, especially since there are no witnesses. I think we’ll make it. But we have to get out of this country as soon as we can.”

I frown. “Do you have a passport for me?”

“Yes, I do.” He yawns, as the train starts to move. He stretches out on the seats. “Wake me in an hour.”

I laugh. “I’m going to be asleep like you.”

“Then, I’ll wake you. And we’ll get something to eat.”

“Yes, I’m very hungry.”

Hunter closes his eyes. I watch a moment before I lie down and close my own. Fatigue washes over me. I realize I’m exhausted. The cold, the Sherpa, Dimitri and Vasili, they have all sapped my energy. I’m asleep before I can remember anything else.

When I wake, I’m alone.

For a moment, I don’t quite understand where I am or what the rocking sensation is. Then I realize I’m on a train, but I’m not supposed to be alone. I sit up. Where is the American? Why am I alone? I wonder if I should look for him.

Before I can decide, the door opens, and Hunter enters. He’s grinning and his arms are full. “I probably got taken to the cleaners,” he says, dumping his haul onto the small table. “But they have this car with lots of stuff. I grabbed some and paid cash. They seemed happy with what I gave them.”

On the table are bottles of water and soda, bags of chips and pretzels, several sandwiches, bars of chocolates, and packets of candy. My stomach rumbles at the sight of food and I am reminded that I haven’t eaten in a long while.

“Help yourself,” he says. “I don’t know how long we have till we have to change trains, but you must be hungry.”

“I am, what do you call it … er … starving,” I say as I grab a bottle of water and a sandwich.

“This train is OK. Not luxury but OK.” He grabs a sandwich and a soda. “I found the restrooms too. They’re not far.”

I will use the toilets after I eat. As I sip water, I notice that my jaw hurts from where the giant hit me. The shivering begins again, deep inside and I remind myself that the giant is dead. We have done what we have done, and now, we must flee. Hunter lied when he said he likes our chances of escape, but I truly believe I will escape Anakin. Hunter must do what he must and I must do what I must for my parents and my sister, and my own survival too.

“When we get to Moscow,” Hunter says. “We will take the first flight anywhere that gets us closer to the United States. If we have to wait in some airport, let’s wait in one outside Russia.”

I nod in agreement, ignoring the pain in my face as I chew. The brute of a giant hit me harder than I remember. We eat in silence because hungry people are like that. I am reminded of my home, my parents. They always ate in silence. They didn’t like to talk to each other, not when they were sober, anyway.

In the toilets, I look at my face in the mirror. Hunter was right; the bruise is already showing and will show for some time. But other than that my face appears unchanged. There’s nothing to tell that together with the American I have murdered someone. Maybe I’m becoming more Russian in my bones. Russians are uniformly melancholy and morose. They always expect fate to deal them a poor hand and are unsurprised when it does. When I return, I find Hunter studying his phone.

“It still doesn’t work,” he says. “The power is down, and my power cord is gone. We’ll have to look for a new one at the next stop.”

I nod. Talking makes my jaw hurt too.

He looks at me, and seems to immediately understand. He jumps up. “I’ll go get some painkillers. Your jaw must be killing you.”

I stand and hold out my hand. “I want to walk.”

He stares at me for a moment, then silently pulls out some cash, and hands it to me.

I head into the aisle to look for what I need. For this pain alone, the giant deserved to die. I find the car with the shop. It’s small and doesn’t have a lot of variety, but painkillers and digestion pills are prominently displayed. I get my pills and ask about power cords, but the shop doesn’t stock them. The woman there assures me I will find them at t

he next station where there is a bigger shop. In her eyes, I see concern for my face, and she asks if I need help. I do need help, but she can’t provide it.

Only I can help myself.

I come back to find Hunter sitting with his leg resting on the little table and his ankle exposed. I can’t help gasping. He must have been in agony. It looks really bad, must be swollen to at least twice its size.

He grins at me. “Not a pretty sight, huh?”

I share the pain medication with him. I feel a tinge of sympathy for him. He has his own aches. Not only his ankle, but I can also see the bruises on his neck from the giant’s grip. In fact, we are both lucky to be alive.

“We need to do a little prep,” Hunter says. “In case we’re stopped by the police. First, neither of us ever met or talked to those two dead guys. Second, while we knew the Sherpa, we don’t know what happened to him. We fell asleep, and when we woke up, he was gone. He might have gone out for a smoke and lost his way in the snow. We don’t know. We walked to that town and got on the train. Enough said. The less you say, the fewer details you provide the better it will be. Play dumb. In my case, that’s not so hard.”

I giggle, and that makes him smile.

“I know I’m keeping this light, but this is important. I’ve seen this many times. Two guys do a job, and the police haul them in for questioning. They put them in separate rooms and grill them. The police don’t have enough evidence to arrest either guy, but they act like they do, and they play this little game. They tell one guy that the other guy is getting ready to confess. If the other guy confesses first, then he’ll get a deal from the prosecutor. So, if you don’t trust the other guy, you confess first because that gets you a better deal. You rat each other out. But the kicker is that if the guys don’t confess, they’ll both walk away free because there isn’t any evidence. So, here’s where we make a pact. If we’re taken and put in separate rooms, we don’t confess to anything. You have to trust me on this. If you hang tough, we’ll both walk away. No one will go to prison. Got that?”