Scorpion Down by Mick Bose

Author:Mick Bose [Bose, Mick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hard Wire Publication
Published: 2018-09-13T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 43

MELANIA – THEN

When the truck was full, bodies packed in a sweaty, humid, suffocating mess, the tailgates lifted, and the doors slammed shut. It induced a sudden darkness in the interior of the truck, and several frightened voices gasped. Mia grabbed Marinochka’s arm. The truck lurched as it set off down the road.

“Where are we going?” Mia whispered in a fearful voice.

She was younger than her, but Marinochka wasn’t sure by how many years. Mia couldn’t be more than nine, she thought. She made her think of her baby sister, Michka, and a lump came to her throat.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m scared.”

Marinochka didn’t say anything. Fear was ever present inside her, like a river flowing invisibly in her bloodstream. But along with that came a dullness in her senses. She now knew it would be a miracle if she got back home again. Hope, that strange, mystical candle that lit people’s souls, was slowly burning out inside her.

These men were well organized and armed. They reminded her of the men who stood outside the Tver politzia station with guns in their hands. When the truck had stopped at a checkpoint, no checks were made of the cargo. Marinochka had been waiting and hoping. After all, every car was searched at checkpoints. Only government cars and military trucks were allowed to pass unchecked. Did these people work for the government?

The few rays of sunlight that came in through the truck’s roof eventually vanished. It was dark outside as well as inside. They truck shuddered to a stop. Moans for food came from around Marinochka. The tailgates were lowered, and the doors creaked open. It was pitch-black outside. Two powerful flashlights beamed inside. She recognized Sergei’s voice.

“Ten of you will be let out at a time. If you try to run, we will kill you then leave you in the field. Understand?”

Hardly anyone spoke.

Sergei shouted, “Understand?”

A smattering of voices agreed.

There was no food, and the hunger was like an ulcer inside Marinochka’s stomach, gnawing at her guts. Rough hands forced her down, and the beams guided her to the line of children either standing or squatting. Shame prickled inside her, but she knew she had to do it. This truck wouldn’t stop just because she wanted it to. A night breeze hit her face, cooling the sweat. She didn’t know how long they had been travelling, but it had clearly been almost a day. It was warmer here than in Tver. She knew that. Tver to Moscow was a two-hour journey by road, and they had been travelling since early morning.

The darkness stretched away in front of her, bereft of any lights. The road they were on had potholes in it, and she could tell it was barely used. Briefly, she thought of running. What would happen if she did? A bullet in the back? She wondered if that would be any worse than the fate that awaited her.

A boy next to her zipped up his pants. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but he was taller than her and, she assumed, older.

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