04
Outside Prague, Czech Republic
November 26
Eva lay still, rain blurring her vision, as the echo of the gunshot disappeared into the bitter air. She was shivering violently, whether from the cold or from fear, and she drew slow, ragged breaths to keep from sobbing.
The blanket was beside her, disappearing into mud that was flowing free like a river, and she knew she, too, was sinking in, out of sight. Just how far, she couldn’t tell.
The guards were yelling back and forth to each other, terse military barks that she couldn’t make out. Two more skirted the roof of the train, looking out into the fields with guns drawn, hunting her. It was impossible to tell how much they could see, so she tried to shove herself further into the muck, to disappear.
“Hey! He’s still breathing!” came a shout from near the train, and Eva dared to look up that way. A pair of guards were standing over Anton, guns holstered. She couldn’t see any movement, couldn’t hear any signs of life, but all the same she felt the pit of her stomach hollow out with terror.
“We’ve gotta move him,” one said to the other.
“I’m not touching that. He’s bleeding all over the place.”
“We’ve got gloves.”
“Then you do it. Better yet, next time shoot ‘em out in the field like you’re supposed to.”
Eva heard a slosh close by, held her breath. Another slosh, and she could faintly hear the sound of feet trudging through the mud behind her. Slow, methodical, searching.
She sunk her face lower, closed her eyes, and pushed as far down as she could, until her nose was half-submerged, pulling in foul-smelling filth every other breath. The footsteps stopped, but she heard the sound of sleet pounding a guard’s waterproof jacket.
“Listen,” continued the guard close to the train. “If we leave him here, people are going see him, and we’ll have a panic on our hands the last half hour of the trip.”
“As if Holik’s leg won’t do that anyway. Or the half-dozen gunshots they’ve all heard by now.”
The guard behind her was moving again, but she couldn’t tell if he was coming or going. She became aware of the feeling of rain hitting her left calf directly, and she realized the mud was flowing off her, that she was slowly becoming uncovered as she lay there.
She tried to shift her leg until the mud wrapped around her, but then the footsteps stopped again. They were still close by.
“Fine,” grumbled the first guard. “One way or another, it’s got to be done. Thanks a lot, though.”
Eva felt pressure on her right foot… The rough tread of a boot on her skin! She bit her lip to keep from making noise, felt her ankle scream with pain.
Then: crack!
A gunshot echoed out, and everything lost meaning.
“Jesus!” gasped the first guard, and Eva swore she heard mad gurgling. The guard behind her leapt over her, giving her ankle one last crunch as he did. She whimpered into the mud, but it was quickly drowned out by the sound of another gunshot, then a quick series in return.
“Jesus! Oh Christ, I’m hit! I’m hit!” wailed the first guard.
Radios were buzzing all around, footsteps sprinting through water, and Eva heard the heavy doors to the train crash open. She peeked up, over the mud, blinking back the rain.
“One, two, three… Up!” called an officer, and the first guard was hauled up on a stretcher, and carried to the door.
She saw the other guard propped up against a comrade, his eyes blank and a gushing wound in his neck. They closed his eyes and lifted him gently up and away.
One of the younger guards spent a good two minutes sloshing the mud around with his foot, trying to hide the blood that had pooled there.
Even when she was finally alone, Eva stayed perfectly silent in the rain, for longer than she could keep track of. The deluge didn’t let up, kept pounding her bare head, so cold it was like tiny blades smashing into her skull.
She looked ahead, tried to see Anton, see if he was still alive; though that wasn’t likely anymore. She tried sliding forward on her stomach, crawling flat on the ground, but she knew it was too risky, and she stopped, rested her head on the side and waited.
Then, after an unbearable wait, an older, senior-looking officer came out the door, trudged near where Anton had fallen, and lit a cigarette. He looked out into the field, right towards Eva, blowing smoke against the wind.
A minute later, he was joined by the officer she’d beaten, his glasses gone, bruised face, an ice pack on the side of his head. He leaned against the train, looking winded.
“All set,” the hurt one said. “The cars are sectioned and we’re ready to move.”
“How’s Karel?”
“As long as he doesn’t pick up anything, he should make it. We’ve got him in isolation with the doc.”
“Good. We’ll get going once I finish this.”
There was a pause as Eva’s officer looked out over the field too. They stood there in silence, and Eva shivered at the thought she might be seen.
“How about the girl?” her guard said.
“She’s 17-5, right?”
“Yeah. Hadn’t seen one of those before.”
The smoking officer stared out at the setting sun. His cigarette glowed brightly.
“She’s either dead or going to die. I’m not wasting any more lives on her.”
The other man nodded solemnly, then kept quiet for the time it took his superior to finish smoking and toss the butt into the mud. They climbed aboard the train, slammed the door shut, and within a few minutes the train’s engine roared back to life, and it started to slide down the tracks.
Eva waited until it was a faint shimmer on the horizon before crawling to her feet. Her ankle seared with pain, but she kept walking on it until the sensation disappeared into her general discomfort. After a few kilometres she was barely limping at all.
* * *
The woman stood behind a fence near the train tracks, her wide hat drooping uselessly in the rain, a lantern by her side, sending light across the field as far as the weather allowed. She hadn’t moved the entire time Eva had seen her there, and the only motion she made up close was to maintain lazy eye contact with the only other living creature for miles. She was gaunt, like a skeleton with a thin layer of skin holding it together.
“Nice night for a walk,” said the old woman as Eva passed by.
Eva stopped, turned back. It was sometime after midnight, and she was bleary-eyed and shivering madly.
“Excuse me?” she trembled.
“No rain lately. This is good for the crops.”
Eva smiled weakly, nodded, started back on her way.
“You’re going to the city?” asked the woman, interrupting again. “I came from the city. Had a flat there, a nice big television. Watched imported films every Friday night. You ever seen Midnight Cowboy?”
Eva shook her head.
“Me neither. It was top of the queue when my husband died. Moscow 9.”
Eva just watched. The old woman was talking more to herself now, fiddling her thumbs, staring at the ground as a waterfall poured off the brim of her hat.
“I couldn’t go back. They sealed my flat, and I had nowhere else to go. My sister wouldn’t see me, my parents wouldn’t answer the phone. They may have been dead already. I’m not sure. It’s always hard to tell.”
Another minute passed with just the sound of the rain, and when Eva decided it was time to move on, the woman looked up at her directly.
“Are you good at farming?”
“Sorry?”
“Do you know anything about growing food? Keeping animals?”
“No. No, sorry, I don’t.”
The woman nodded, looked back to the ground.
“I live in the barn, way back there. The farmhouse is sealed. Tape all over. No idea why. I won’t go in. But the barn is nice. I… I thought it was a waste of land, you know? All this land, and no one alive to use it? Such a shame. I just… I’m not very good at growing things. I need some help.”
Eva looked back, saw nothing in the darkness. No farmhouse, no barn, no crops.
“I’m going to stay with my mother. She’s got a place in the city,” Eva said, and the woman nodded as if she’d expected it.
“That’s good. That’s very good,” she muttered, turning around in a circle, then settling back where she’d been. “Well then, I won’t keep you. Good luck in there. Good luck indeed.”
Eva nodded again, then started back towards the city. When the woman’s lamp was no longer helping light her way, she heard a coarse cry:
“Oh! And if you find any books on farming, bring them out for me! I’ll make us tea!”
Eva didn’t turn to reply. She just kept walking into the cold.