Can't Let Her Go

“What did you do to Vasili?” she asks.

“He’s dead.”

“They were going to kill us. He told me.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. There might be more of them.”

Her eyes widen. “You think there are more?”

“I can’t tell. This place is a mess, but I saw some NEO Nazi flags and badges out there. These guys usually run in gangs.”

“What will we do?”

“We’ll take the truck. We’ll drive out to the highway and head for that town we saw. We’ll hide the truck just outside the town and walk into it. If they have a train station, we’ll take the first train out, no matter where it goes.”

She looks at me and there is fire and hope in her eyes. “Why don’t we run away to Florida, Hunter? We can have a nice life there. There are alligators there. I’ve never seen alligators and I’ve always wanted to. I think we could have a nice life together. You like me, don’t you?”

The giant is bleeding out at my feet, my ankle is killing me, I’m shit-scared more men will come into the house, and she wants us to move to Florida so she can see an alligator? I stare at her. I didn’t expect this.

“You don’t have to marry me or anything like that,” she continues. “And if you get bored with me, I will go away. I won’t be any trouble. You don’t even have to support me financially. I can speak English. I’ll get a job. I’m not fussy. I can be a waitress or even a cleaner. I don’t mind.”

“I have to get you to Detroit,” I tell her. My voice is cold and robotic. It doesn’t even sound like me. Inside me is a terrible pain far worse than my throbbing, red hot ankle, but I cannot stop the words from coming out of my mouth, “That’s my job.”

Hunter

The light in her eyes dies out the same way the embers I poured cold water over this morning did. She nods slowly. There is sadness in her face. “All right. Let’s get going, then. This place will soon stink worse than it does now.”

I follow her out of the bedroom and at the door, I look back at the giant. He’s totally out of it now. His heart is belting out the line of its song. That’s how it goes. One moment, you’re running on all cylinders, the next you’re dead. And one day that will be me.

I wash my hands and face quickly. Luckily my coat is dark so the blood doesn’t show. Once we’re wrapped up in our coats again, we hustle out to the truck. It’s still a nice bright day, if there can be a nice day in the middle of a Russian winter.

“You know how to drive this?” she asks.

“I can drive anything.” And I can. The engine starts on the first try. I back out, turn around, and head for the road. “Do you have any blood on you?” I ask.

“I don’t think so,” she answers.

“Take a look. People notice things like that. They’re going to notice your face anyway. Throw in some blood, and we’ll be marked for questioning.”

She starts to shake, really shake, and I know it’s shock. She’s reliving the giant, the gag shoved into her innocent mouth, the blood, and the fact that we murdered a man together. She will never be the same person who went into that farmhouse. She wasn’t prepared for it. It’s like being in combat. We’re all like that the first time—unless you have no soul.

“If you’re going to throw up, let me know. I’ll stop, and you can do it outside.”

She shakes her head.

I’m thinking she doesn’t know how these things work. “I can feed you all sorts of sayings about what you experienced, but no matter what I say, it comes down to believing that you did the right thing, the only thing available to you. If he had killed me, he would have raped you so brutally you would have wished for death. It would have gone on for days, maybe weeks until one day, he goes so far, he accidentally kills you.

She is staring straight ahead, but a tear slips out of her eye and streaks down her white cheek.

The tears finish me. My hands jerk, a completely involuntary gesture, so I grip the steering wheel hard. Jesus Christ. I can’t believe what’s happening to me. All I want to do is pull her into my arms and console her, but I force myself to hold back. She already has way too much power over me. I stare straight ahead and keep my voice rational. “We were minding our own business. It’s not like we went looking for someone to kill. They were. But they ran into some people who weren’t going to be victims. Be happy that it isn’t your blood all over that house. Be happy that you’re alive. That’s what you have to tell yourself. It’s a good thing to be alive.”

“Why do you care what I feel anyway? You’re taking me to another monster who needs a virgin once a year. You say he raised you and you didn’t know this. Have you never wondered what he does with the girls? What he will do to me?”

“Put on your seat belt,” I say harshly.

“Fuck you,” she spits and hugs herself in an effort to stop the shivers.

I let her work through things. The road winds, rises and falls as we head back towards the town. I would like to drive faster; there might be others. Yet, I have to make sure we get to a station, a way out. If the two thugs didn’t have a lot of friends, it might be days or a week before their bodies are discovered. By that time, I want to be back in Detroit. I have now left three bodies behind me. If the local police find the bodies, Katya and I will be in deep trouble. There’s no way they’re going to believe some American thug, not even if the girl tells the truth.

I’m praying that when we reach the town, we not only find a train but get lucky; no one recognizes the truck and it doesn’t all kick off before we get on the train. Two strangers in town. We’ll be the first suspects. They’ll be waiting for us on the next stop. That will be hell. I must park the car someplace where it won’t be found immediately. I thank the powers that be for the cold. At least the sidewalks won’t be crowded. I turn to look at Katya. “We’re nearly there. You need to dry your eyes and try to look as normal as possible.”

“All right,” she rasps.

“I’m sorry he hit you.”

She reaches out and grabs my hand. “I want to thank you. You saved my life.”

“We’re even,” I reply. “If you hadn’t hammered that giant, he would have killed me. So, we’re even. You owe me nothing.”

“I suppose you’re right, but you could have left me and run after you…felled Vasili?”

“I couldn’t leave,” I force myself to say the words. “Without the package I was sent here to bring home.”

She doesn’t say any more, and I concentrate on negotiating the icy road. It was one thing handling the Sherpa. What I did to Vasili and Dimitri was quite something else. She’s probably scared of me now, and while she should be, I would rather she not be. That’s what happens when you show your true colors. Some people suddenly realize they don’t know you at all.

A part of me wants to explain more, make excuses for the blood. I would like her to think well of me, but anything I say will sound like an excuse. Excuses are stupid things. Own your life—good or bad.

The town comes up faster than I expected. I slow down. I need to hide the truck.

Katya

I cannot stop shaking. It’s true that we are both alive because I found the paddle and struck that man almost to death, but that’s not what scares me. What scares me is when I was hitting the giant, I was like a barbarian, wild, shameless, and full of bloodthirst. I wanted to hit him, to hurt him, to … kill him for what he did to me.

God, I hated him.

I hated him enough to beat him to death. No, that’s not right, I would have hit him until he was a bloody pulp if Hunter had not stopped me and killed the giant himself. I merely managed to split open his head like a melon, but I wanted him to die. I cannot get that out of my head. I wanted him to die so bad I could feel it rushing in my blood.

At least now I know that I have it in me to fight Anakin if I have to.

I push the thought away as I search for signs along the way. If the town has a train station, it will be marked. They’re always m

arked. The government is good about signs. They want people to ride the trains. And since half the people this far from Moscow can’t read, the signs are always pictures.

I spot the sign and point to it. “Over there.”