And then there was commotion and screaming. The men were attacking all those poor, bone-thin people. Slaughtering them like cattle in the halls. The pale ones with the sores and kids with no shoes running through filth.Running running running…
And then the sounds got closer, and I curled into a tight ball, because if I could be very little, maybe this nightmare would pass by. I could wake up next to Vitali, and his arms would be around me, and he would smell expensive and sweaty and like imported cigarettes. His voice would vibrate through me when he sleepily said good morning. I would feel it in my core.
And all the white mice in the corner would gnaw on my pretty shoes.
Good, everything felt good. I could make a snow angel in the mattress. Somewhere below the cover were feathers waiting to explode if I only sawed through the fabric.
And then Vitali and I could build a home out of the stuffing. Two little mice.
I coughed, hacking up goop or maybe a piece of my liver.
The screams, or shouts, continued. But that wasn’t my problem. Mice didn’t have problems. They were mice.
A door flew open, kicking up a wave of mold and long-rotten food. Shadowed silhouettes appeared as ghosts against cold light. I sank deeper into my memories until I could smell him. Feel him cradling me in his arms.
“Kotik.” His low voice caressed my skin. An arm hooked under my knees and pressed me against hard, wet leather. “Close your eyes, Katya. Don’t open them until I tell you. Don’t look.”
I did. I squeezed them tight to the sound of barking dogs in concrete hallways. Hungry dogs on long, metal chains.
And then, cold air.
“What’s wrong with her?” I heard a familiar and out-of-breath voice ask. “Did they… "
“I don’t think so, I think they gave her a sedative, but we still need to get her to the hospital.”
Water rushed in my ears, and sounds ebbed all around me.
“Where’s Vitali?” I asked, but my tone was quieter than I intended. “I need Vitali…”
“I’m here, Kotik,” the velvety, warm voice hushed me.
“Musa is going to blow his asshole out. I hope you’re ready, Vitali. Moscow is coming after they find out about Sergei—and now we’re both on the Chechen’s shit list.”
“You don’t have to be. Tell whoever comes it was me.”
“Aha. You can’t keep getting away with things just because everyone thinks you’re psycho, Vitali. At some point, they’ll put the rabid dog down, and I’d say it’s likely after said dog put a bullet through its handler’s face.”
“Side of the head, his face was fine. I don’t plan on getting away with it. I’m done here, Misha. I am not going to put her through this any longer.”
The big man turned, suspiciously chewing on the cigarette that kept flashing gold with passing lights. When did we get in the car? “What do you mean by‘done here,’because you can’t seriously think you can just leave.Ican’t walk away, and I’m nobody to them.”
“A guy in Krasnodarsk got me passports to get them out. I’ll need you to arrange some fake invoices to be wired overseas.Then all that’s left is me putting the verifications on the visas.”
“No invoices,” I mumbled. I meant to ask what he meant by any of that, but ‘invoices’ stuck better than the other words.
“Shh, Kotik.” He stroked my head.
I didn’t get my clarification, but I did throw up on his shoes and again on the hospital floor. I never lost consciousness, but wished I had, because the way my head spun was unbearable. There was another needle, and a tube, but they came and went quickly. Things began to painfully fall into place, whatever they had done.
And we were on our way again as men with blood-stained clothes began arriving in poorly driven cars.
Misha eyed the entrance through the rearview mirror and smacked his lips. “Like roaches.Blyad. What’s the point if they’re all going to crawl back out?”
I didn’t care for roaches, and did not follow up.
We didn’t go back to our apartment, but no one would explain why. Instead, we pulled up on Mira Street to Mama’s building.
I lay curled up in the backseat, trying to keep myself from retching.
