Chapter 24. Lessons of survival
I entered the hut, brushing the snow off my shoulders. The air inside was warm, stale, and smelled of pine needles, smoke, and something subtly animal-Yuki's new scent. She was asleep, curled up on my bed, covered with a sheepskin. Her face, usually tense during the day in an attempt to understand this strange world, was serene now. Fragile.
Looking at her, I felt the very vulnerability that they saw. Weakness. Lever.
No, I corrected myself mentally. "Not a weakness. Responsibility.
I went quietly to the table and lit the oil lamp. Soft light flooded the room, casting long, dancing shadows on the walls. I took my notebook and a piece of pencil. The old plans were useless. It's time to write new ones.
GOALS (PRIORITY)
· Yuki's safety.
· Anti-intelligence. Identification and neutralization of Crimson sightings.
· Counter-operation. Thwarting their recruitment/study plans.
· Yuki's training (basic survival skills, stealth, danger).
The last point was the most difficult. How do you explain to a child whose vocabulary is limited to a couple dozen words and sign language that the world is full of not only hungry wolves, but also predators in human form who can pretend to be friends?
I put down my pencil and went over to the sleeping Yuki. He gently touched her shoulder.
—Wake up," I said softly. — The lesson begins.
She growled in her sleep, then opened one eye, then the other. When she saw me, she sat up, rubbing her eyes, and stared at me with a mute question.
"We're learning not to talk today," I said, squatting down in front of her. — We are learning to see. Hear. Feel the danger.
I pointed to my ear with my finger, then put my palm to my ear, pretending to listen. — A rustle. Step. Breath. Strangers.
Then he pointed to the eyes. — The trail. Shine. Movement in the distance. Strangers.
She watched, absorbing it carefully. Then she nodded, her face serious.
I took her by the hand and led her to the frosted window, pushed the shutter back a centimeter. "Look at this. Carefully. Do you see the Christmas tree? On the left? There's a broken branch under it. Not by the wind. By someone. Maybe someone else's.
She peered, her nose almost touching the cold glass. Then she turned to me and nodded, pointing to the broken branch, then to her eye, confirming that she understood.
—Okay,— I let her go. "Now listen.
We fell silent. All that could be heard in the hut was the crackling of the coals in the stove and our breathing. I could see how she was straining, how her ears seemed to be moving, trying to catch something that wasn't there.
—Nothing,— she finally whispered, her voice low and hoarse.
"Nothing yet,— I corrected. "But they'll come." Or they'll plant something. A toy. Food. A sparkle. Something that you think is good. You can't take it. Never. Do you understand?
Her brows drew together. She didn't understand. Why can't you take the good stuff?
I sighed. I needed an example. I looked around and found an old, rusty button on the floor. He picked it up and brushed it on his sleeve to make it shine. Then he handed it to her.
She reached out to take it, but I jerked my hand away. - no. Look.
I walked over to the trap for small game that was lying in the corner—Victor's legacy. Carefully, using a splinter, he placed the button directly on the teeth.
"See? I pointed to the trap. — It's beautiful. But there's pain inside. Death. They will do the same. It's a beautiful thing, but there's a trap inside. Do you understand?
Yuki looked at the trap, then at the button, then at me. In her eyes, there was a struggle between the childish desire to possess brilliant and the new, terrible knowledge that I put into her. Finally, she nodded slowly. Then she went to the trap and... spat on the button.
I couldn't help but laugh a short, hoarse laugh. — Yes, that's about right. Just be quiet.
She grinned back, pleased that she had learned her lesson.
We spent the rest of the day like this. I showed her how to move silently, how to blend into the shadows against the wall, how to tell by the sound who is walking — an animal or a man. She was a diligent student. Her animal instincts, sharpened by hearing and flair, were doing their job. She grasped everything on the fly.
After dark, I didn't start a fire. We sat in the dark, listening to the night. I finished the last crumbs of dried meat, and Yuki finished his portion.
—Tomorrow," I told her, looking out the window into the blackness, "I'm going to check the traps." You're staying here. Do not open the door. To nobody. Even if they call with my voice. Do you understand?
She nodded, her eyes shining with serious, adult understanding in the dark.
She was ready. As much as it was possible at all. And I was ready for their game.
Let them try to throw their bait. They will find not a naive savage, but a sentry. Not a victim, but a hunter.
And most importantly, they didn't know that their main trump card, my "weakness," now also knew the rules of their game.
And I was ready to spit on their glitter.