Central Bosnia, 1995
Marc stopped the truck, with no explanation.
“Give me the binoculars.”
Maud took them out of the glove compartment and handed them over. He got out and stood at the edge of the road. She watched as he stared for a long time at the horizon.
Suppressing her pain, she managed to sit up and wipe the condensation from the windshield. From where they had stopped you could see a vast panorama, and if the weather had been better, they might have been able to see all the way to the Adriatic. With the falling snow they could still see most of the high plateau they had crossed. Without binoculars Maud could make out only a white expanse for miles around. Sometimes the road dipped into a hollow, and then it rose up again. They were stopped on a high point. To the south, the ruined towers of a medieval castle stood out against a leaden cloud filled with snow. Marc came back and tossed the binoculars onto the dashboard. More tense than ever, he turned the key in the ignition.
“What did you see?”
“They’ve been through here.”
Maud didn’t say anything. She could hear the spite in his voice. She was angry with herself for being injured and unable to drive. If their pursuers were able to take turns driving, Marc on his own would not be able to keep up the pace. He was certainly aware of this and must have been evaluating the consequences of their failure: the inevitable confrontation, the discovery of the cargo, perhaps even death.
Maud tried to move but it was hopeless. As soon as she held out her arms, she felt the pain in her back, so sharp she wanted to cry out.
“How far ahead are we, do you reckon?”
“Barely six hours.”
“What can we do?”
He didn’t answer and this angered her. As if she didn’t matter. He seemed so hostile she could not help but recall what she had thought during the night. When it came to action, he was alone. It was the hidden side of his strength, the rules of the game in his world.
Maud felt like crying, and was annoyed with herself.
They drove in silence for almost an hour. Suddenly Marc stopped the truck again. He gave no explanation and without a word he went back out onto the road. First she saw him squat down in front of the cab and touch the frozen ground. Then he went out of sight, around the back. When he returned, he was covered in snow. It was coming down hard now, and in the space of a few minutes the windshield was covered in a white film.
Marc switched on the wipers and the landscape reappeared. It was then that Maud then saw the narrow track leading off to the left. It was covered in snow and she had not seen it initially. It was surely because of this track that Marc had stopped the truck at that particular place.
“Do you want to go up that way?”
He didn’t need to answer. He had already turned the wheels to the left and was heading that way. The track was fairly steep for a few yards and the truck struggled. Then it rose more evenly. It was certainly a dead end, leading to a field or a barn.
“Do you think the snow will cover our tracks? Is that what you went to check?”
He merely nodded.
Then suddenly the track seemed to fade away. They were surrounded by whiteness and there was no indication of where they should go. Unfortunately they had not gone far enough from the main road to stop. Marc got back out and walked through the snow to try to determine whether it was possible to drive farther up. Maud saw him disappear behind a hedge that the snowflakes were covering in white pom-poms.
She was at her wits’ end, filled with a sort of rage, and she did not know whether it stemmed from despair, anger, or shame. She felt as if she had been making the wrong choices for a long time; perhaps she had always been making the wrong choices. She should never have followed this man, should never have made an exception for him to the caution that had always protected her from humiliation and suffering. And now she was here, injured, betrayed, cast adrift. She screamed.
Her long cry, initially shrill, then fading to a deeper note, gave her some relief. She tried again, but it wasn’t natural anymore. She felt self-conscious. Her determination was coming back, if not her strength. She would not give in so easily.
Not long thereafter, Marc reappeared. At first he was only a shadow in the white shadow of whirling snow. Then she saw him, covered in snow, and he opened the door.
“Did you find a way through?”
As he did not answer, she ignored the pain that was searing through her back, and slapped him.