by Rob Sinclair
Kankava urinated, and Anna cringed and looked away. But when she did so she caught sight of Kankava in the mirror above the sink. He was giving her a lurid smile. She whipped her eyes away.
‘You have very delicate hands,’ he said. ‘I could get used to this.’
Anna said nothing.
‘Do I disgust you?’
Anna again held her tongue, even though the truth was yes, he really did. Kankava stopped pissing and Anna went to push him back into his trousers but he threw her hand away.
‘Do I disgust you?’ he repeated, his tone more brash this time.
‘No.’
‘Liar!’
Kankava swiped at Anna with the back of his hand, catching the side of her mouth. Her bottom lip split and throbbed. She held her hand up to her face as Kankava angrily zipped himself up.
‘I’m the same as all the other men in here,’ Kankava blasted. ‘You help them each and every day. But you never look at them with the same contempt with which you look at me.’
Anna turned and moved to the sink and washed her hands in scolding hot water, trying to remove the remnants of Kankava from her skin. His words filled her head. He was right, she did think of him differently. She’d never liked him – a natural instinct. Perhaps that was unfair. Most likely, she mused, it wasn’t. He was sinister and creepy.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise you needed my help. I guess I thought you were more able.’
Kankava smiled, calmed. ‘I try to be, dear Anna. Nobody likes their independence to be taken away from them. But I’m not getting any younger. I’ve often wondered how long it will be before I’m just another patient here rather than the man in charge.’
Anna finished washing her hands then dried them on a small towel by the side of the sink. ‘Is that all?’ she asked, wanting more than anything to get the hell out of there.
‘Yes. For now. But I’d like you to come back and help me again tonight,’ Kankava said. ‘Before I go to bed. Maria and Viktoria can’t always be expected to do everything for me. And you’re not a little girl anymore.’
‘Of course,’ Anna said, though she felt sick at the thought.
‘Good. When you’ve finished your rounds at nine, you come straight here.’
‘I will.’
‘I look forward to it,’ Kankava purred. ‘Go back now. Don’t let me keep you from your work.’
Anna spun round, and walked as quickly as she could out of there, a mixture of anger, embarrassment and fear gripping her.
Don’t ever show them you’re scared.
She would try her damnedest. She always had. But if Kankava was thinking what she thought he was thinking, then she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to hold out.
11
It was nearly eleven p.m. when Anna crept back to her bedroom that night. The pain she felt in her groin was nothing compared to the anger in her mind. She was furious at her own naivety. She’d been staying in the house for three months. How could she not have seen the signs earlier? She shared a bedroom with Maria and Viktoria every night yet she’d never deduced what happened when the others were sent to help Kankava. She’d never questioned the unlikely stories of how they’d come to have the bruises and marks on their skin. It had seemed plausible that perhaps they had fallen or one of the patients had lashed out at them. After all, some of the more able-bodied men were known for their violent outbursts.
Or maybe she had known all along but had simply been in denial.
Regardless, Anna was also furious at Maria and Viktoria. How could they not have warned her? She was only fourteen. Why had they not tried to protect her?
Anna was glad to see the lights were off as she opened the bedroom door. At least that way Maria and Viktoria, if they were even awake, wouldn't see the tears which covered Anna’s face. But no sooner had she closed the door than Maria’s bedside light came on. Anna saw that both women were awake.
‘Are you okay?’ Maria asked, sitting up. She looked genuinely concerned but Anna felt only anger.
‘How could you let that happen to me!’ Anna screamed before beginning to sob. ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’
Maria jumped from the bed and rushed over to put an arm round Anna. But comfort was the last thing Anna wanted from these two.
‘Don’t touch me!’ she boomed, her face contorting with rage as she shoved Maria hard in the chest.
Maria stumbled backwards and fell to the floor, a dumbstruck look on her face. She turned to Viktoria as if questioning what to say or do. Viktoria got to her feet and went to help Maria.
‘We didn’t know,’ Viktoria said. ‘We didn’t know he would do that to you. We would have told you. We really would.’
Viktoria’s heartfelt tone did little to calm Anna. She was raging. Yet these two, Anna realised, were likely as much victims as she was. Perhaps they had thought they were doing the right thing in not telling the truth sooner. Protecting Anna from the evils of life like a parent would.
But they should have known, Anna firmly believed. They should have known what Kankava would do to her, even if they couldn’t bring themselves to admit it.
‘What happened?’ Viktoria asked, a look of disgust on her face.
‘I’m not going to talk to you about it,’ Anna spat. ‘I don’t ever want to think about it.’
‘It’s okay,’ Viktoria said. ‘We’re here for each other. We have to stick together.’
‘Stick together?’ Anna said. ‘What are you talking about? You two waltz around here allowing this to happen. What the hell is wrong with you?’
‘There’s no other way,’ Maria said, bowing her head.
‘There’s always another way,’ Anna countered.
‘Please, Anna,’ Viktoria said. ‘You’re angry. And you have every right to be. But don’t go getting silly thoughts. I know what you’re thinking. Kankava is one man, right? Just one old man. But it’s not like that. Not here.’
Anna wasn’t sure how to take those words. If anything they only made her position even more disturbing.
‘How can you stand to be here?’ Anna said.
‘They’d kill us if we tried to leave,’ Maria said.
‘Who?’
‘Who do you think?’ Maria said.
‘Anna, we don’t know why your father brought you here,’ Viktoria said. ‘Perhaps he really didn’t know. But this place, what happens here, it isn’t just Kankava.’
‘The Mkhedrioni?’ Anna said.
‘Where do you think the money comes from to run this place?’
‘But they don’t even exist anymore.’
‘Of course they do. Making something illegal doesn’t make it go away. The Mkhedrioni still exist. And this place... it’s theirs. We’re theirs.’
‘We’ll try to protect you,’ Maria said. ‘We’ll try everything we can. You’re young. Too young for this. But please, don’t try to run. And don’t try to fight it. It never works out well if you do.’
‘Listen to her,’ Viktoria said. ‘If you want any kind of life, you have to listen.’
‘You’re weak,’ Anna said. ‘Both of you. I can never be like you.’
Viktoria shook her head. ‘Maybe we are. But we’re alive and we’re safe. You can hate us if you want. We won’t think any less of you. But whatever you choose to do, don’t ever say we didn’t warn you.’
Anna said nothing more to the two women as she moved over to her bed, pulled back the covers, and climbed in fully dressed. She’d never seen Maria and Viktoria as friends. They were colleagues, acquaintances. They were ten years older than her, such a big difference to a teenage girl. She’d trusted them, respected them, but she’d never opened up to them about who she was. And she resolved at that point she never would.
She wasn’t like them. She couldn’t stand for what Kankava and the Mkhedrioni were doing. She just couldn’t. Yet the more she thought about her position, the more her will seemed to break down.
Anna wondered whether maybe Mari
a and Viktoria had once been like her. In ten years’ time would Anna be the one to break the sordid news to the next young thing that walked through those doors? She shivered at the thought. She couldn’t allow that to happen. She would do anything to stop herself becoming like them.
Anna barely slept that night, only drifting off in the small hours. When the alarm went off at seven a.m., she was finally in a deep sleep and awoke a groggy, confused mess.
After forcing herself out of bed she began her daily chores, first helping to cook breakfast before moving around the veterans – feeding those who needed feeding and cleaning up after those who could manage by themselves.
When she came to Alex, she felt a strange unease as soon as he laid eyes on her. What did he know? She meekly sat in the chair next to his bed. He studied her.
‘You look... different,’ he eventually said.
‘Just tired,’ Anna said, thrusting a spoon of scrambled egg toward Alex’s mouth.
He took it and swallowed quickly. ‘You often cut your lip sleeping?’
She felt at the small scab on the bottom of her lip. ‘Accident.’
‘Yeah,’ Alex said. ‘I’m not going to ask you about it. Don’t worry. But remember, it’s only my body that doesn’t work. My head, my brain, is as good as ever.’
Anna felt she knew what Alex meant by that. A Mkhedrioni himself, maybe he had always known about what Kankava was and what happened to the girls at Winter’s Retreat. And it wasn’t like he was in much of a position to stop it.
She remembered the conversation she’d had with Alex the night before.
‘You said you knew of my father. That you didn’t know why he would send me to this place. What did you mean by that?’
Alex sighed. ‘I know of him, yes. Not your father as you know him, though. But his reputation.’
Anna frowned. ‘Why do you think he’d send me here.’
‘People can be very complex. I don’t know him so I can’t answer that. I’m sure he had your best interests at heart.’
Anna scoffed. As much as she loved her father, she couldn’t comprehend how her being at Winter’s Retreat was in any way good for her.
‘I heard a lot of stories about your father,’ Alex said. ‘Much of it was probably fable but there must have been some truth there too. There’s truth in all legends, one way or another.’
‘You think my father is a legend?’
‘To some yes.’
‘I haven’t heard from him for months. Do you think–?’
‘He’s still alive. You’d have heard if he wasn’t. No news is good news.’
Alex took a break from talking as he wolfed down several mouthfuls of food.
‘Anna, do you know who your father is?’ he asked after finishing the last of his eggs. ‘What your father is?’
‘Yes,’ was her immediate response but realised it wasn’t true. ‘No, actually. I know him as my father, but... I don’t know.’
‘Will you let me tell you a little about him then? Perhaps that will give you some of the answers you need, as to who you are and why he brought you here.’
Anna shifted in her seat, intrigued but also uneasy about what Alex had to say. Did she want to know? Would it change the way she felt about the man who had single-handedly brought her up? Perhaps it was best to leave him on the pedestal that he’d always been on, to close her mind off to who her father really was.
But he’d sent her to this place. Perhaps if she knew more about him, she’d know why he’d do something like that.
‘Tell me,’ Anna said, before she could talk herself out of it. ‘I want to know.’
‘Okay, I’ll tell you,’ Alex said. ‘Your father, Anna, is an assassin. He kills people. For money. But he’s not just any assassin. He’s probably the best, the most infamous, this country has ever seen.’
12
Anna spent the day mulling over Alex’s revelation. She wanted to know more about her father, but the conversation with Alex had been cut short when Maria showed up to help move Alex to change the bedclothes.
Anna finally got her chance to speak to Alex alone again later that day. ‘Do you know where my father is?’
She reached down and pushed the sponge into the soapy water then gently rubbed it along Alex’s legs. Even though she knew he could feel nothing as she bathed him, she got the impression that he found the process soothing nonetheless. Perhaps it was the memories of bathing, from back when he was able-bodied. Memories that were hard-wired in his brain, that still triggered relaxation, even though he could no longer feel the warm water against his skin. It wasn't too dissimilar to what she saw in some of the amputees who believed they could sometimes sense the presence of their lost limbs.
‘No,’ Alex said. ‘I don’t know where your father is. How could I? I don’t get out much these days.’
Anna smiled. ‘But you said you knew of him. Perhaps you could help me find him?’
‘I only really knew of him by reputation.’
‘You said that before. So tell me what you know.’
Alex sighed before he spoke. ‘What I’m about to tell you... no one else in this place knows. And I wouldn’t dare tell them. Vlad Abayev might be a father to you, but that’s not who he really is. The name people know him by is a name to be feared. Like an infamous warrior from times gone by. People would talk about him, share stories about what they’d seen and heard. Some would only whisper his name for fear of being struck down. That was the power of his legend. Others, of course, believed he was a myth.’
‘But not you?’
‘No, not me. I saw what he could do.’
‘You said you only knew him by reputation?’
‘I never spoke to him. In fact, that night, I never even saw his face. All I saw was his shadow. Everyone knows of him, but few people have seen his face and survived to tell the tale.’
‘But he came here. He walked me right up to the front door. He was standing there in plain sight.’
‘I know. But did anyone else see your father that day?’
‘Kankava did.’
‘Kankava knows your father. Apparently. I don’t know the story.’
‘No,’ Anna said. ‘And neither do I.’
‘But even if someone else had seen your father out here, they wouldn’t have realised who he really was. His legend is well known. His real identity, what he looks like, isn’t.’
‘I’m confused. How do you know him if you’ve never seen his face? How do you know my father is this legendary assassin?’
‘I just know,’ was all Alex said, not looking Anna in the eye.
She couldn’t quite read his mood. He seemed so hesitant about the story he was telling. Was he playing her, over dramatising the story? Or was he genuinely rattled by the prospect of revealing what he knew?
‘And you haven’t talked to anyone else here about this?’ Anna asked.
‘No. This must all sound strange to you. He’s your father, and you love him. But he’s a very dangerous man.’
Anna squeezed the water out of the sponge and laid it down on the side of the white porcelain bath. Like Kankava’s private quarters, the fixtures in the main bathroom were old and ornate. But here they were also worn, the porcelain lined, the cracks looking like a snaking network of blue veins. And the decor was cold. White tiled floors, white-painted walls. There was nothing homely about the room. ‘You said you saw what he could do?’
‘Yes.’ Alex stared into space.
Anna’s father had always been so loving to her, so doting, but she’d long sensed there was another, darker, side to him. It wasn’t lost on Anna that most fourteen-year-old girls would be shocked to find out their father was a hired killer. But not Anna. The more she heard from Alex, the more intrigued she was about who her father really was. What he was.
And what she was.
‘And?’ Anna asked.
‘I saw him murder two of my comrades. In cold blood. Just like that. One second they were standing there, a few
yards in front of me, and the next they were dead.’
‘How?’
‘There were four of us. We were manning the two entrances to a building where the Mkhedrioni were meeting. Nobody heard him coming. Nobody suspected a thing. I barely blinked, and all of a sudden this... shadow.’
Anna said nothing, didn't move, as she waited for Alex to carry on. She now firmly believed that telling the story had shaken him.
‘The other guard and I ran over to help our friends,’ Alex eventually continued. ‘They were dead before anyone knew what was happening – their throats sliced, stab wounds to their kidneys, their hearts. Multiple blows that had taken just a second or two to inflict. I’d seen violence before, people being killed, I’m a Vor, but that? It was something else. It was so surreal, like a dream.’
‘Why did he kill them?’
‘To get to his target. Your father slipped past us into the building while we were still trying to figure out what was happening. He took out the target before anyone had even raised the alarm. And then he vanished into the night.’
‘Who was the target?’
‘It’s not important,’ Alex said, though Anna knew there was more to the story than Alex was letting on. There was silence for a few seconds before Alex spoke again. ‘Your father was once a spy. Did you know that?’
‘No. I didn’t.’
‘For the Russians. He travelled across Eastern Europe, infiltrating rebel groups, passing information back to Moscow.’
‘My father hated the regime.’
‘Not always. He wasn’t an idealist. He didn’t care for politics. He just cared about protecting his own interests. And money. That’s not a bad thing. Deep down, it’s what drives most of us; self-preservation.’
‘So what happened?’
‘I don’t know the details of why, but someone in Moscow betrayed him. Your father found out and–’
‘He killed them?’
‘Yes. But not just one man, an entire family. The man’s wife, his brothers, sisters – six people in total. He made a statement. After that he went into the shadows, loyal to no one but himself. And his family.’
