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We continue to the far left of the fairgrounds, right where Ruslan left me on the night of the massacre. My heartbeat picks up immediately, and I become frustrated with this relentless sensation of impending doom.
All I want to do is go to sleep for three days.
The empty fairgrounds themselves feel like a ghost without all the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of the fair surrounding me. It’s the stuff of nightmares, and there are plenty of reasons for me to feel on edge about being here that have nothing to do with the ambiance.
Right as my thoughts begin to run away from me, I step on something hard that’s been halfway buried in the dirt.
When I kneel down to investigate, I can see that it’s a bullet casing.
20
Ruslan
Vera stops in her tracks again, except this time she isn’t speaking on the phone.
I should have known that bringing her here so soon after the attack would be a bad idea.
I turn around, glancing at her to see if I can figure out where her head is at. She’s been acting strange since she took that phone call, which makes me hesitate to trust her for a moment. Now is not the time for her to be keeping secrets from me.
When I stop to regain control of my paranoia and emotions, I can see that she’s doing the best she can to protect me from something. Even if her efforts could lead to my detriment, I can’t help but appreciate her for standing up against Eric on my behalf.
“Everything good?” I ask, walking a few steps back to meet up with her again.
“Yeah, I think I found something you’d be interested in,” she replies, holding up a bullet shell that’s been caked with dirt.
My eyes shift from the shell, to her, and back to the shell.
“Where did you find that?”
Turning slightly, she points to a spot in the ground that’s been unearthed. “It was right here. I thought it was a pebble, but it was shiny when I looked down at it.”
I want to pick her up and kiss her, but that would open door to distraction. It’s already difficult enough having her here with me, but now she’s proven to be useful to my cause.
“This is amazing, thank you. We should only need one, and I doubt there are any more left on the grounds since the cops have been here. Good work, Vera,” I say, giving in to a slight smile.
She maintains an uncertain, sickly appearance as we continue wandering through the fairgrounds. She’s pushing through this for me even though I’ve given her a choice to leave.
Maybe for the first time in years, someone cares about me.
I can’t hedge my bets that she’ll stick around long, but the fact that she hasn’t left my side proves her gratitude for saving her life. This could be her way of making it up to me, which isn’t something I’d ever ask her to do.
Even if she’s just here to help find my brother’s killer, I’ll be indebted to her forever.
“Does that shell look familiar to you?” she asks.
We round the last corner of the fairgrounds, and I’m finally ready to get the hell out of here now that I have the casing. “I’m not sure yet. I’ve seen a lot of firearms throughout my life, but I don’t have the technical knowledge to identify them. I know someone who does, though.”
Her ears perk up, and I’m sure she’s curious about the prospect of another person entering the equation. I can’t blame her if she’s curious about meeting other mafia members, especially someone with as much experience as Yan.
Since Yan is the one who introduced me to the trade of black-market weapons, I trust that he’ll know exactly what kind of rifle this casing belongs to. Even if he doesn’t, he’ll know how to find out.
“Yan is my former mentor. He was kind of like my dad when I was your age. He taught me everything I know.”
Vera’s eyes sparkle as she absorbs another piece of my past. “Yeah? What kind of person is he?”
“He’s a Russian John Wayne, or at least the person that John Wayne wanted to be. That’s the type of guy he is though. He takes no bullshit, but he’s a valuable asset to have in a survival situation. He’s a good man, and he’s sensible,” I reply, recalling my early twenties when I used to watch Yan smoke cigarettes from the front porch step.
Her interest is piqued, and she trots up to me to close the distance between us.
