Page 19 of Can't Let Her Go

I go to the fireplace and move the logs apart. They might burn for a while, but not for long. I take some water from the sink and douse the embers. I hate to see a good fire die. Fire is a good thing. “Ready?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“I’ll lead. You follow in my footprints, got it?”

She nods nervously.

“This is adventure,” I tell her. “This is what keeps us alive. We’ll make it.”

She presses her lips and nods again.

I lead us out of the house and wait till she is out before I close the door. Without wasting time, I step off the porch and turn for the road. At that moment the clouds part, and a ray of sunlight hits the bright snow, almost blinding me. Maybe I’m an idiot for going out like this, but then, I don’t have much choice. It’s either be an idiot or hang around and starve to death. In my life, I’ve always tried to be the doer, not the one that things are done to. It seems to work for me.

A few yards away, I feel her touch my shoulder, and I turn to look at her.

She points with her hand. “Is that Sherpa over there?”

I glance over at the lump in the snow. His bright blue scarf had been disturbed by the wind and it was blowing like a flag. Almost as if calling to us. I stared at it. He was a good Sherpa while he lasted. I have no doubts about his ability. He did what he could. Too bad he had to die in that shelter.

“Shouldn’t we say a prayer for him?” Katya asks.

We don’t have time, but he’s dead and she wants him to have a sendoff. “Fine,” I say moving in the direction of his waving scarf. We stand in front of the Sherpa shaped lump of snow. “Go on then,” I encourage.

“Dear God,” she begins. “Please take this man’s soul into heaven. I have no idea if he deserves it, but he did his best by us, and that counts for something. Amen.” She makes the sign of the cross.

I’ve never had the time for religion. My take on God is simple. If there was a kind God above and we were all his children, he would never have allowed what happened to me to go on year after year. He would never allow men like Anakin to lord over men like Mooch.

She looks up at me. “It is a good thing we said our prayers for him.”

I shrug. “You did.”

“Don’t you believe in God?” she asks curiously.

“Nah.”

“But if you don’t believe in God where will you go after you die?”

I laugh bitterly. “Hell, maybe.”

Before she can say anything else I turn away. This is going to be a very hard slog and we better get on.

Katya

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ClU3fctbGls&index=145&

I follow in his footsteps, literally.

His legs are longer than mine so his stride is long, but I can manage. And following is far better than leading. In snow this deep, leading is very hard work. The cold makes my nose tingle and run, but the extra coat keeps me warm. I won’t freeze to death just yet.

The walk reminds me of when I was small, a child sent to school. Many days I had to walk, and in the winter, it was always a freezing cold walk, mostly in the snow. I was never afraid then. There were houses, buildings and cars, and the cold was merely an inconvenience, not deadly. I used to sing even though I was never a good singer. It was easier to walk if one had a rhythm. The steps were the tempo.

How many times did I hear the same song in my head? I hear it now. But the tempo is too fast. This is slow, methodical. I look up, and he has moved a little bit ahead. I want to tell him that I think he’s walking too fast. He will wear out, and then, he will quit. There is a science to walking in the cold. Moving too fast, breathing too hard, the lungs will be damaged. If he fails, we will both die.

This thought almost makes me sick.

Hunter gave me the best gift I ever received. He is the reason we’re still alive. He’s done all the right things. But while I am grateful I don’t fully trust him. I know he still plans to hand me over to Anakin. I suppose the harsh truth is he shouldn’t trust me either because the first opportunity I get, I plan to escape. He’s a foreigner here. He will never be able to find me. I feel bad for what Anakin will do to him, but he doesn’t have to go back to him. He could run away too. If he doesn’t, it’s his business. I have to think of my poor parents and my sister. They’ll need money from me. I step into the next footprint.

How much farther?

I shield my eyes the best I can and look up. The sun reflecting off the snow is brutal. It is white-white, blinding. Still, I do what I have to do. I follow. And I don’t talk because as Hunter said that takes energy. I already feel that I don’t have enough. The last time I ate was a slice of birthday cake and my stomach is growling like crazy at the thought of food. To take my mind of the hunger pangs, I keep my head down and savor the memory of last night’s orgasm.

In a way, dying in the cold would be the perfect solution. I will not be beaten because I am no longer a virgin. I will not be sold into slavery. I will not join a harem in some far away land, but I don’t want to die. I’m only eighteen. I want to escape and find a way to help my family. The money that they have been getting from Anakin is going to stop as soon as he finds out I became a runner. Adventure, that’s what the American calls this. He sees adventure.

Suddenly, I see him running ahead of me.

What?

Protecting my eyes with my hands I see why. A truck is coming along the road, and he is trying to reach the road before the truck passes. He moves quickly, and then, he falls. I chase, and now his steps are too far apart for me. I can’t reach every one of them, which slows me. I watch as he gets up and runs, but he’s limping now.

He hurt his leg in the fall.

It’s clear he’s not going to make it. Even as I watch, the truck passes without slowing. He waves and shouts, but the truck is gone. If they saw him, they ignored him. He stands, waving far longer than he should. They’re gone. We’re still here, and now he’s hurt. I hope he isn’t hurt badly.

The truck is no more when he limps onto the road. He is slower than before. He has used a lot of energy, precious energy.

I follow. I lower my head and concentrate on his steps. If he stepped in a hole, I don’t want to repeat his fall.

I concentrate on the steps, the snow. I reach the place where he fell, and I see the hole he stepped into. I avoid the hole and keep going. I hope Hunter hasn’t hurt himself too badly. If there isn’t a ride, we will have a long walk. If he’s hurt … There is a sharp pain in my chest. I don’t complete the thought. Of course, he’s not hurt.

He’s waiting for me on the snow covered road. It’s been plowed, but it’s still snow covered. It will be a much easier walk, but I see nothing in either direction.

“Are you all right?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Stupid, fucking hole,” he curses. “And for what? I missed the truck anyway.”

“It was worth the try.”

“Maybe. Which way?”

I look in both directions. Everything looks the same. “I have no idea which way we are going.”

“I don’t know either,” he says. “And I have no idea if we’re closer to the town we are going to, or to the town we left.” He holds his hand up to his eyes and squints into the distance. “That’s the car, I think. That means we were going that way.” He points in the opposite direction.

“I think so too. We can walk side by side if you want. We just need to keep an eye out for vehicles. We don’t want to get run over.”

“I agree. Russians are maniacs on the road.”

Walking single file doesn’t appeal to me. This will be boring enough the way it is.

“Let’s go.” He walks on my left, putting me closest to the side of the road.

Now that he’s hurt, I find it easy to keep up with him. “What did you hurt?” I ask.

“Ankle. Just a little twist. Luckily, it’s too cold for the thing to swell much.”

“Painful?”

“I’ve had worse.”

I remember his little speech about not talking, so I don’t ask any more questions. We walk in silence, and I let my mind wander. The sun’s brightness makes me look down at my feet. There is something to be said for not looking too far ahead. If you don’t look, you don’t wonder when you’re going to reach that next rise.

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