The Third Antichrist (19 page)

‘Take him into the bushes then. You can both go with him. But keep him on a short rein. Hold his pecker for him, if need be.’

‘But I have to go...’ Radu hesitated. ‘You know.’

‘You sort it out between you. You’re all grown-ups.’

They’d been driving for thirty straight hours and everybody was tired. Abi threw himself onto the ground and began to go through some yoga movements. Rudra picked his way out of the clearing in the opposite direction to the girls, unbuttoning his flies as he went.

The two women shunted Radu ahead of them and along a track. ‘We’ll find a fallen tree. Tie him to it with one hand. He can squat over that.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Why thank us? If it was up to us you’d be dead by now. There’s no point to this. If I started sawing at your balls with my penknife, you’d soon enough tell us where Sabir is hiding.’

Radu swallowed. An image came to him of Sabir, earlier that summer, trussed up like a plucked chicken, with Yola standing over him and being urged to cut his balls off in revenge for their cousin Babel’s torture and death. All at once he understood just how Sabir must have felt. ‘But how can I tell you what I don’t know? I already explained to you. Only Gabor knows. We need to talk to him. And I am the only one who knows what Gabor looks like. You could sit in that bar in Sighetu for years on end and nobody would point him out. This is a Gypsy bar. No one will talk to you there. You need me.’

‘So you keep on telling us. So our brother keeps on telling us.’ Dakini looked at her sister. ‘We’ve got other fish to fry, Nawal. Don’t you think so? If I killed this one now, what do you think would happen?’

‘Abi would be very angry.’

‘And so? We are ten hours’ driving time away from Moldova. Away from what Madame, our mother, ordered us to do. What could Abi do? We are never going to find anything out from this filth. He is just leading us on a wild-goose chase. He’ll end up dead anyway, because Abi can’t risk leaving him around to identify us.’

Radu had never been spoken about before as if he was an irrelevance. He had been used to respect. Deference, even. He realized, by the tone of both these women’s voices, that his life hung in the balance. Now. This minute. If the whim took them, they would simply kill him and sort out the problem that way. Why would they speak like this in front of him otherwise? Why would they tell him he was doomed whatever happened?

‘I saw Damo kill your brother.’

Both women stopped talking and stared at him. ‘Damo?’

‘The one you call Sabir. I saw him beat your brother to death with a tree branch. Your brother – the one with the long hair – had just killed the dark-haired woman. The one Damo loved.’

They looked at him in silence. Radu wondered whether he had gone too far. There was something wrong with these women. They had none of the normal feminine attributes. One had hair on her cheeks, and more thick hair on her arms and her legs. The other one – the one that smelled – had a face that looked as if someone had slammed a car door on her at the exact moment she was winding up to a scream. Why did they not look after themselves? Why did they not make an effort with their appearance like the Gypsy women he knew? It was disgusting.

‘And our sister. What happened to our sister?’

‘You mean the small one?’

‘Yes.’

‘My cousin Alexi killed her by throwing his knife.’ Radu could feel the danger of his position spiking up a notch with every word he spoke. But he also knew that he had to disorientate these women. Buy himself a split second’s leeway. He was certain that they intended to kill him now. Certain that he had no more than a minute left to live. He meant nothing to these women. His life meant nothing to them. He must live. For Lemma and his unborn child. For Yola and Alexi. They were part of his family. He would be a worthless man if he led these people to them.

‘Why are you telling us this now?’

‘Because I want to buy my life from you. I know where the bodies are hidden. When I’ve led you to Damo and Yola, if you leave me alive, I can take you back to where your people are buried. You must speak to your brother. Tell him how I can be of use.’

The women turned towards each other. The long-haired one placed her hand on the other’s arm. The hand that held the rope to which Radu was attached.

Radu ripped the rope out of her hand and began to run. It had been his only chance. That split-second loss of concentration. He had had to give them the information. Needed them to believe it.

A series of shots rang out behind him. Radu felt a numbing lurch in his right arm, high up on the bicep. He continued running.

Radu was fit. He earned his everyday money laying tarmac driveways. He had just spent thirty motionless hours in the back of a car, true. But so had the women. And something had enfeebled them. He had been aware of this for some time. They had recently been through an experience that had drained them. He had learned this much from his mastery of English. And that this had caused bad blood between them and the young leader.

Radu tripped on the trailing rope and fell to the ground. As he fell, he could hear more bullets splattering through the trees above him. He tried to fall onto his good side, but the fact that his hands were tied behind his back deprived him of any such control. Instead he rolled over and over until he was finally able to lurch back to his feet via the downhill momentum of his fall. He snatched at the trailing rope and struck out to his left. There was a thicker stand of trees over there. They might afford him some cover.

A bullet hit him high up on his left shoulder. This time it was bad. Not like the first one, which had only shaved him. This time the bullet hit home. Radu felt as if someone had struck him across the shoulders with an iron bar. He dropped briefly to one knee, and then pushed himself forward again. It was either that or die.

He reached the cover of the trees and forced his way through, disregarding the trailing branches that cut and thrashed at his face. He didn’t dare look back.

There were more shots, but none mimicked the zipping sound of those close ones. Radu’s shirt clung to his back. Sweat or blood? Radu couldn’t tell. He forged on through the plantation and down a bank on the far side.

He could hear a road. Hear traffic through the trees.

He needed people. He needed to find some Gypsies. What he didn’t need was the police.

32

The road was full of trucks and cars. Rusty cars. Shiny cars. Four-wheel drives with swaying antennae. Trucks with twin parts, like beetles. Open trucks, with crap piled in the back and spilling over the protective netting. And everything heading towards the border.

Radu froze on the side of the road. How long did he have. Half a minute?

He limped down the hard shoulder, his eyes searching through the traffic. He knew what he was looking for. It was an instinct with him.

The two women emerged onto the hard shoulder 100 metres behind him.

Radu darted into the traffic flow. He could feel himself becoming weaker by the second. His bloodsoaked trousers flapped against his legs as if he’d been paddling in a river, not running for his life through country he didn’t know.

Air horns honked. Brakes screeched. Cars took avoiding action. Radu ignored them. He kept on zigzagging through the traffic, his eyes fixed on the lanes ahead of him. One thing he knew. The women could no longer shoot at him. Not out here. Not with so many witnesses about.

Radu saw what he was looking for. He snatched a glance over his shoulder. The women were no longer behind him. Radu’s belly swooped. Maybe they had cut around parallel to him? Maybe they were going to come at him face on?

He ran towards the cart. A solitary man was driving it, geeing-on his horse. Cars and trucks were overtaking him with only inches to spare, and still the man looked forwards, minding his own business. As if he had spent a lifetime minding his own business.

Radu recognized the man as a C
ă
ld
ă
rari. A maker of copper stills. Only Gypsies drove carts out here. And this man’s cart was full of copper piping, glass bottles, distillation equipment, and round-bottomed cooking pots. The man had a thick beard and a high crowned hat and was dressed entirely in black.

With one final crazed glance over his shoulder, Radu approached the man. ‘I am a Gypsy. Will you take me?’

The man stared at him. Then he twisted round and looked back down the road. The border crossing was half a kilometre ahead. ‘You’re bleeding.’

‘I’ve been shot.’

‘And you’re tied up.’

‘Yes.’

‘Police?’

‘No. Worse than the police.’

‘Get in then.’

Radu tried and failed to throw himself onto the back of the wagon. He could gain no purchase with his arms still tied behind him.

The driver jammed his cigarette into a convenient nook on the splashboard. Then he got down. He appeared, to Radu’s eyes, to be moving in slow motion.

Where were the women? Why were they not coming for him?

The C
ă
ld
ă
rari took out a knife and cut Radu’s bonds. When he saw the state of Radu’s arms and back he muttered ‘tcheee’ to himself. He helped Radu onto the buckboard. Then he took off his coat. ‘Have you your identity card?’

‘No.’

The C
ă
ld
ă
rari put his coat back on again. ‘Then climb under the still. I come through every day. They no longer check me anymore.’

Radu lay supine beneath the still. His shoulder had begun to hurt. Badly. So badly that he wondered if the bullet had smashed a bone. He clutched both biceps in his hands and tried to prevent the weight of them dragging his arms down to the gig’s wooden floor.

The gig lurched and began to move forward.

Radu gritted his teeth. He waited for the women to throw back the copper pots and drag him out.

33

‘He got into a cart. Driven by a Gypsy. The cart is heading through the border. We can pick him up on the other side.’

‘How could you possibly lose him? What did he do? Wave his dick at you while he was pissing?’

The two sisters looked at each other. ‘He told us about Aldinach and Athame.’

‘What about them?’

‘Sabir beat Aldinach to death with a tree branch. The other Gypsy – Alexi – the one who can throw knives. He killed Athame.’

‘He told you this? And you believe him?’

‘We believe him. He was too scared to make this up. He thought we were going to kill him. He was trying to buy his life from us.’

‘And Lamia? Did he tell you about Lamia?’

‘Aldinach killed her.’

‘Good. I suppose no one killed Sabir? Or the policeman? That would be too much to hope for.’

‘No. They escaped. Together with the woman who is carrying the Second Coming.’

‘So tell me. You were both so gobsmacked by this information he gave you that you let him go?’

Neither of the women answered him.

‘Come on. Let’s get through the border. Let’s try and clean up this mess.’

‘Doesn’t it upset you to hear that the others are dead? Doesn’t it touch you in any way? That we are the only ones of our family left?’