The Blizzard

THE journey south was filled with plans. Father and son had begun talked as if they were speaking for the first time, giving each their views on how best to travel, the nature of their pursuers and learning from each other’s ordeal. Saira watched with warm amusement as the two expounded on their hopes. She did not understand what had earlier between the two men, other than that the father had admitted to some ancient wrong – begging his son for forgiveness.

  Perhaps the enmity that Jack had described was another form of closeness. A manifestation of their shared history. All three passengers were slightly giddy as they basked in their new comfort, causing the few others in their carriage to turn their heads. Finally they were in a warm space, sheltered from the uncaring outdoor elements, and escape from those who hunted them was close at hand.

  During their conversation Strang fiddled with the plastic band around his wrist. Jack knew how it felt to be without a bracelet for weeks on end. He too had gone into social exile, unable to buy anything or travel or even show his bare wrist. In some countries, people were put on the steam chair for no less than failing to produce one.

  But there was another feeling, one of exhilaration. There was a freedom in not being tracked and refusing to be scanned at every opportunity. He remembered his own mixed emotions when he had acquired the replacement bracelet in Sanaam.

  The verdant countryside raced past them. Saira again was struck by the affluence of this country, the solidness of the stone buildings, compared to the shanties of her father’s home. Blue apertures opened in the grey sky as they passed villages, towns and fields. The minutes ticked past. Although the service would take them to the city, it stopped at a dozen small stations on the way. Dozing off and on, her eyes flickering as the train bumped to a halt at each platform, Saira followed only snatches of conversation between her husband and his father.

  “.. something important. But this is not the right time. As soon as we are safe in another country I will tell you and ask for your help, even though I have no right to ask you for anymore. You have done so much already.”

  “Whatever it is, I’ll do it. Not for you though… I still haven’t forgotten what you did but I want to know more. I want to know answers… like my mother: did you ever seek her out.. Where is she now?”

  The rattle of the tracks filled her mind once more. When she opened her eyes once more, the small wooden table was filled with food: sandwiches, bottles of water and sweet juice, and thick slabs of chocolate. The sight of it made her realise how ravenous she was and quickly she set about her business. Grinning, Strang pointed at the band on his arm.

  “Just tested it on the tea trolley. I guess it works.”

  Saira smiled through mouthfuls.

  “Jack tells me that you are a scientist - and your father an engineer. I had wished that my son would have followed a more scientific route. There’s still time for him to learn, of course, but I’m glad to see his wife is keeping the tradition alive.

  “Our marriage was… is one of convenience. It was necessary.”

  “All marriages are convenient my dear, whether we realise it or not. But regardless of what both of you intend to do with your future, you have been a good friend to him and me also.”

  He reached across the squashed wrappers and clasped her hand

  It was hard to credit that this saintly old man with his soft, tired eyes had a price on his head.

  “Have you been to this part of the country before? Well the bridge we’ll be crossing shortly is one of the world’s greatest engineering marvels. It stretches a mile and a half and at the deepest point the water is seventy metres deep. Had to use a cantilever system to span such a distance; it was really quite novel at the time. Funny thing is they forgot such a mass of iron in water would rust. For the last two hundred years they’ve been painting it to protect it from corrosion. As soon as they have finished painting one end, they need to start on the other. Imagine that! Even in this age of hydropower, it is a task that will never be completed.”

  The carriage dropped its speed as they slid past factory units, then tiny rows of slate roofed houses. As they pulled into the station, Strang stood up.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” he pointed towards the empty coffee cup on the table and smiled. Jack and Saira both moved as if to help but he waved them down. The doors hissed open and a handful of people stepped off the platform. Mothers with children, pensioners with empty shopping bags yet to be filled, some older teenagers looking to escape in the city. All looked so glum and grey. Life in this country seemed monochrome to Saira after the bluster of the desert. They pulled away once more, the train resuming its even pace.

  A man sat down in the empty seat beside Jack. He was aged in his fifties and his mottled red face was scored with ugly blisters. Impressively built, muscles bulged beneath his black suit, which he wore with a pale shirt and dark coloured tie. Saira gasped, clasping her hand to her mouth in terror.

  “It’s lovely to see you again my dear. You can’t begin to imagine how surprised I was when the surveillance report came through. At first I couldn’t quite believe it but the description we received from the mountains fitted so well with the one from London airstation.”

  “How on earth did you get here?”

  “I could ask you the same, my dear. It’s hard to fathom how managed to get involved in this. But mystery was always your forte. As a professional in finding people, please take that as a great complement.”

  “Melody.”

  “My dear, we’re still married aren’t we? Can’t you call me by my first name?”

  Jack’ heard was pounding hard in his chest. He shifted his head slightly. Was it still possible to escape?

  Caching this slight movement, the giant man turned to address him. The red marks on his face seemed to contort under his skin as if they had a will of their own.

  “And you must be the boy,” a momentary flicker of annoyance on his features was quickly submerged. “I can only imagine that you haven’t had any physical involvement with my wife yet. Otherwise you would be dead. Of course, death is not always a straight-forward process and – ahh! Here comes the man we’ve been all been waiting for.”

  Strang stumbled through the half-full corridor, slumping to his seat nodding to the man as he sat down. Then, sensing that something was wrong, he looked to Jack and Saira’s stricken faces before his gaze settled once more on the stranger.

  “Hello Mr Strang,” the man’s tone was musical and oddly familiar, as he bowed in greeting. “We had an entertaining discussion on the airphone some months ago. I promised you we’d catch up eventually.”