A Debt Owed

Chapter 12

There it was again that crushing weight pressing hard on his chest along with the all too familiar taste of dirt and blood wrapping its welcoming arms around his cold body. Forcing what seemed to be his final willing breath from him, sending him deeper into the void. In all honesty this time he should let it claim him. He had waited so long for the pain to cease.

The silence and the darkness always seemed comforting. Peaceful. The pressure in his chest began to ease. God it felt good just to let go.

“Kirill.” His restlessness woke me; I called again, “Kirill?”

There was just enough light coming into the room for me to see he was staring at me with those lifeless eyes again. I touched the side of his face; there was a long pause before he slowly blinked. I sighed with relief; I thought he had stopped breathing.

“Close your eyes, you need to sleep.” I had rearranged the pillow before stroking his temple, my lame attempt at giving comfort, all the while he silently watched me in his frozen state.

He finally did do as I asked.

An icy chill pulled me from my slumber and I sat up realising that I was all alone in the bed. After searching the relatively dark room I found Kirill standing by the window staring out onto the city. The curtains were still drawn, all except for the slender gap where it failed to reach the wall, allowing the touches of morning light colliding with his unmistakeably naked body. Every rugged male curve, every taught toned muscle highlighted by the pale orange glow from the fading man made street hue streaming in.

I could clearly see that his jaw was clenched and his face expressionless. Where ever he was or whatever he was thinking he was lost to it. Sad because of it.

The room grew colder even though the dawn nudged its way in regardless. I pulled the blanket tighter around me as I moved from the bed towards him, not bothering to get dressed. I noted that most of the contents of the vodka bottle resting on the couch near him were drained. He didn’t turn or greet me choosing to remain distant; I reached out my hand to touch him then stopped unsure if he wanted the physical contact. Not that we didn’t get enough physical intimacy last night from each other, the memory was still fresh in my mind and my fatigued body.

Oh to Hell with it. I draped my arms along with the blanket around his body from behind; his skin was just as icy as his mood. My body slowly melded to his out of a newly formed habit, down the long smooth line of his back and over the natural curve of his arse. The scent of his skin invaded me as I closed my eyes resting my face against one solid shoulder blade. Every steady breath he took resonated through me as heat started to spread from where our bodies touched. To places he so readily explored last night. I didn’t want to move away being quite content to just hold him. I must be getting soft in my old age.

For a long while neither one of us spoke. Silence the only thing keeping the rest of the world out.

“I know you have the photo Madison.”

It wasn’t an accusation. His voice void of anger remained soft and calm. I had no reply for him; he didn’t push me away and felt his body tense up before he spoke again.

“I didn’t always have this life. There was a time when I gave a damn about what I did.” His sudden openness took me by surprise as I juggled with the options to either hear his story or leave his personal life well alone. Did I really want to know about the young woman and boy in the photo?

He drew in a steadying breath yet still his voice crackled around the edges. “He was the most precious thing in my life and she the most beautiful.”

A lump started in my throat, I knew what tragedy sounded like, and I had to force myself to speak. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I don’t need to know.”

Not hearing me went on unveiling the painful memories regardless.

“I still remember his laugh ... a soothing lullaby. He smelt always of chocolate and soap, every time he hugged me I knew he had been helping his mother bake. Chocolate cookies were his favourite. When I came home late he would greet me carrying a glass of milk and a freshly baked cookie, but sometimes sleep would win the battle and he’d fall asleep waiting. That annoyed Andreas the most.”

His voice trailed off into the distance, well into the past, and in and out of Russian.

English …

“Katrina’s smile was brighter than the sun. I never expected them to be taken away from me. Not that soon, not that violently.”

Without thinking my arms tightened around him.

“I was straight out of the Academy and into a two year posting at a local station, I already spent six years in the army. They let me leave, a reward for obedient service having done my time in Chechnya. I was thankful for the stable life having grown tired of the endless wars, invasion campaigns and strategic rescue missions. I was starting to choke on all the politics.”

His voice remained a gravelled whisper adding to the solemn silence of the room. Its eerie emptiness.

Russian …

“The day started out like any other. Arrests from the nightshift were being processed, most of them prostitutes and street junkies. Things were quiet, the black-marketeers, gun-runners and drug factions were lying low. Perhaps they knew of what was about to happen. The Commissar wanted to make the monthly quotas. Every single thing we did had to do with getting the maximum numbers.”

As he continued his whole body changed. His voice grew darker as the temperature in the room dropped further while the focussed intensely on an invisible target directly in front.

“The call came over the radio, an emergency down town. You could see the rising smoke and dust form blocks away. Police, fire, paramedics and news crews were all rushing to the scene. The onslaught of sirens carved a path through the city drowning out all other sounds around us as the city streaked by in one massive blur. Panicked people were running everywhere; others froze and gazed on in shock. The injured that could move wondered the streets sobbing and wailing.”

There was a long pause. “It looked and felt like a war zone.”

I silently listened as he continued mostly in his native tongue, ever so slowly and painfully.

The police car ploughed on through the mayhem only to be halted by the police line tape two officers were starting to criss-cross over the road. Kirill wound down the window to talk to the approaching officer. “How bad is it?”

“Bad. Most of the two story shopping complex is reduced to rubble. We need to get the people away so we can search for survivors.” The officer quickly returned to directing the fire trucks and paramedics racing through.

Kirill pulled the car off the road and began to tend to the civilians wondering the street, guiding them to the near by ambulance. The barks from the dog squad rang out as the rescue squad started sorting through the wreckage.

“Kirill, Stanislav we need an extra pair of eyes.” A fellow officer from their precinct called out.

They rounded the corner and nothing could prepare them for what awaited there. The dust was still rising from the mangled steel and concrete where once a two storey building stood. The contents of several burst water mains sprayed everywhere hindering any further rescue attempts and the men trying the shut them down. The dust that still hung thick in the air turned quickly to slick fowl smelling mud on the ground, the sewage main must have been damaged also. There was some consolation, there were survivors.

It was well over two hours before things started flowing consistently. All available emergency services working with such efficiency the scene was being cleared as quickly as possible and the wounded were transported to hospitals throughout the city. Civilians and rescue personnel alike were helping clear the debris and shift through the rubble in hope of finding more survivors.

“I’ve found another one and I think they’re alive.” Shouted the dog squad officer.

Kirill and Stanislav along with other officers and firemen scrambled over the wreckage to claw at the debris. A long slender hand was exposed; it was definitely female judging from the manicured and freshly painted nails. The wedding band glistened in what little daylight was breaking through, there was no movement.

“I thought I heard sobbing.” The officer checked for a pulse as the others rushed now to free the survivor, he shook his head as the verdict was a negative.

The silence thickened as the officers uncovered more of the body. There were no words that could offer comfort only the need to get the job at hand done and done quickly. The officers froze as faint crying heard as more debris was removed.

“I knew I heard something.” They rushed to free more. “It’s alright we’re coming.”

Almost the woman’s entire arm was revealed. The officer up front slowed down as some of the rubble had blood on it. One officer glanced up at another, “She must have been shielding the child, we have to hurry.”

Stanislav partially blocked Kirill’s view as they both hurried to dispose of the debris being handed to them. Horror carved into his partner’s and good friend’s face as he turned towards him, his body rigid.

“What is it Stanislav. Who is it?” Kirill’s eyes met his and he knew it wasn’t good news.

Kirill glanced past Stanislav seeing the other officers removing the woman. Only barely getting a glimpse at her long dark hair the paramedics covered the body. Unexpectedly her hand slipped out as they stretchered the body over to where the others were, instantly Kirill’s eyes zeroed in on the charm bracelet. Snowflakes she always loved snowflakes. Somehow he knew without asking, racing over he ripped the sheet back even before they set the stretcher down. His body went numb as if a great weight was driving him into the ground.

He went to hold her shouting her name. It was her. His Katrina. Blood was streaming down her face and arms, she wasn’t moving no matter how much he shook her. Tears started to sting his eyes he knew she wasn’t going to awaken. Then the realisation hit him, ripping the last breath from his lungs … Andreas.

“Where’s my son?” Kirill ran towards the rubble scrambling to where they had found her, smashing through the road block of Stanislav and three other officers who tried to calm him down. He shoved the rescue workers out of the way and began clawing at the brick and twisted metal. Splinters and shards embedding themselves in his fingers and hands as he dug. A jagged steel edge had ripped into his side, he ignored the pain as he lunged forward clutching the tiny hand in his. The skin was warm to the touch but cooling fast. There wasn’t much time left.

All followed him in freeing the small child. Gathering the tiny body into his arms he carried him down to the clearing as the others called for the paramedics.

“Andreas it’s alright I’m here now.” Falling to his knees Kirill began to gently rock him, brushing the smeared dirt and blood from his face.

All the chaos around him faded into nothingness as he prayed for his son to wake. Thankfully he was still breathing be it very slow and laboured. He just had to hold on till the medics came. It wasn’t long now. Shouting for them to hurry and find a doctor Stanislav wrapped a blanket around the two. The wound in Kirill’s side quickly soaked the cloth. He too was loosing too much blood and was on the verge of passing out.

“Open your eyes little one, please.” The tears that threatened to fall earlier erupted as he wept in fear, in desperation, in pain and more so hope. “Andreas. Andreas!”

An ambulance returned from the drop off at the nearby hospital, paramedics rushed over with a stretcher and supplies.

“Papa?” Andreas barely formed the words as his eyes fought to open. For a moment their eyes met and he managed the start of a smile for his father before they closed once again. Kirill felt Andreas grow heavier as his breaths became weaker. Then everything fell into silence.

“Andreas ... no!”

“The world collapsed and crushed my heart and soul because I couldn’t do anything to save him, I just watched him leave me. I lost the two most important people in my life in one moment of madness. All for what, for nothing. They said it was a bomb. A rebel faction’s act of retaliation against a military occupation of one of the Baltic States. The bullshit of politics messing with peoples lives as usual.”

I felt his tears splash onto my hands. Anger starting to rise within him.

“It hurt more than I can say to lose them. I died inside that day and every day since then I have wanted to die. This life I have is not really living.”

There was nothing I could say in response to his confession. No words could ever console or explain away such a tragedy.

His body tensed then shuddered before he shoved free of my hold sending me stumbling backwards onto the bed in his rush into the bathroom. He didn’t bother closing the door. I could hear him hurling what was probably the vodka into the toilet bowl. Hearing the toilet flush and the turning off of the tap I figured he had finished cleaning himself up and glanced around the doorway finding him sitting on the cold tiled floor gazing up at nothing. He had picked a fine time to have a break down and fall a part on me; still he didn’t deserve to sleep on the floor. Surely it wasn’t an act, part of a plan to make me feel sorry for him. He didn’t even acknowledge me as I helped him stand and guide him back to the bed. Those eyes were staring at me again; there wasn’t anything sexual about it even though we were both still very much naked. I lifted those longs legs onto the bed pulling the sheet over him. Something was wrong. I have never yet met a straight man who didn’t react to having naked breast bouncing in his face. Yep, something was definitely wrong.

I slid in next to him placing the cold damp washcloth across his forehead; maybe the coolness would settle him. I hadn’t planned on playing nurse maid. I hadn’t planned on caring at all about what happened to him, but yet here I was doing both.

Damn.