Deep Black

78

The wet, rasping sounds he made as he tried to suck in oxygen were those of a fast-dying man. I reached inside his jacket and felt warm blood pumping over my hand. I wasn’t going to seal the hole: there wasn’t any point. I was just looking for spare mags for the AK.

I was out of luck, but grabbed the blood-wet weapon anyway as the boy stopped breathing, and scrambled back up the hill. ‘Benzil! Benzil! Shout to me!’

‘Here, over here!’

As I joined him, there was a burst towards the barns from further along the hill, parallel with the Audi. It had to be Nasir.

I kept us on the high ground, paralleling the road, trying to confirm who was up on the hill. Benzil was losing strength and spent more time in the mud than on his feet.

‘Nasir, Nasir!’

‘Over here, over here!’ It was Jerry. I still couldn’t see them.

‘Back in the car! Go, let’s go!’

I started dragging Benzil downhill. Each step was clearly agony for him, but that was tough shit: he’d have to sort himself out later.

He stumbled again and cried out. I grabbed a handful of coat and yanked him forwards as rounds thudded into the ground where we’d just been.

‘Come on! Come on!’

Three bodies closed in from my right. Salkic was with them as they scrambled downhill towards the car. The fire from the barns became more concentrated as they worked out what we were doing. Rounds hammered into the Audi’s doors and tyres.

‘Back up the hill!’

I was fighting for air, my clothes soaked with sweat, trying to climb and keep a grip on Benzil at the same time. Nasir was returning fire behind us. ‘Stop! Stop! Stop! Save the rounds! Salkic, where the fuck are you? Tell him to stop firing!’

We carried on climbing. There were no trees, nothing to haul ourselves up on; just mud, grass and rock. I slipped and fell. The AK barrel crashed against the stone, but it would survive. These things were built to be used and abused. I wasn’t so sure about Benzil.

There was still firing from below us, but the tracer was going high. They’d lost us in the dark.

I felt blood leaking down my legs after my tangle with the barbed wire. My throat was parched. I kept my grip on Benzil, kept pulling him upwards.

I yelled across at Jerry. ‘Keep up! We’ve got to keep together.’

Jerry came close, chest heaving and breath rattling in his throat. ‘Where . . . we . . . going?’

‘Fuck knows. Salkic?’

There didn’t seem to be anything leaking out of Jerry apart from sweat. ‘For a second there, I thought you were down for good.’

‘Bastards hit my fanny pack.’

Salkic appeared out of the gloom, fighting for oxygen and so angry he could hardly speak. ‘You are responsible for this! They must have followed me here earlier, and waited.’ He pushed me so hard in the chest I nearly fell over Benzil. ‘You lead them to me!’

Benzil remained in the mud as Salkic started gobbing off to Nasir.

I wasn’t too sure how this was going to play, so pushed down gently on the AK’s safety. Salkic heard the click and so did Nasir. His weapon swung up into the aim. Salkic gently pushed the barrel until it pointed at the mud. ‘God would not have let this happen if it were not for a reason. My job is to take you to Hasan. We serve him, so it will be done.’

I made sure they heard the safety click back where it belonged, then glanced back down at the hill. I could see torchbeams criss-crossing the ground. I waited a second or two for Nasir to calm down. ‘You know what’s the other side of this hill?’

Salkic thought for a second or two. ‘No. Just more hills?’

I checked Baby-G. We had about two hours at the most before first light. If we were caught out in the open in this terrain we’d be fucked.

Benzil was still on his knees, almost sobbing as he gasped for air.

Jerry, too, sank into the mud.

‘Salkic, ask Nasir if he knows.’ It was time to get sorted. ‘OK, I saw one man go down and there’s one by the Audi. Anyone see the other guy? We still got someone out there?’

The one missing would have to fend for himself. I had control of the most important two.

Salkic gobbed off again to Nasir.

I lifted the AK and pushed the magazine catch forward to release the two taped-up mags. I pressed down on the top round in the first mag with my finger. It stopped about two-thirds of the way down: I had about ten rounds left.

Salkic and Nasir were still in dialogue as I turned the mags over and pushed down on the second. It was full, so I slotted it into the mag housing and eased back the cocking handle to check chamber. ‘Anybody else got a weapon?’

Salkic translated. ‘He also has a pistol and two extra magazines. And he says there is a cave the other side of these hills. The aggressors used it to store supplies.’ Salkic took in another couple of gulps of oxygen before continuing. ‘He said that he isn’t sure which valley. It’s been many years since he has attacked it.’

Nasir muttered a few more words to Salkic, who hesitated before translating. ‘Do you know which man you saw dead?’

‘No.’

As Salkic mumbled back to Nasir there was a sudden burst of voice traffic on the radio inside his coat. He pulled it out, maybe hoping it was our missing man.

The radio might have belonged to him, but the gravelly voice that came out of it didn’t. Whoever it was started singing what sounded like a nursery rhyme. Then there was a short, piercing scream. The song continued for a moment, but was interrupted by more screams and the sound of sobbing.

Nasir went apeshit.

Images flashed through my own head of others I’d seen taken prisoner by the Serbs, men strapped to trees who’d choked to death on their own genitals.

Nasir started downhill as the fading screams were replaced by mocking laughter.

‘Salkic, turn that fucking thing off and get him back here!’

I didn’t care what the fuck he wanted to do down there, but now wasn’t the time. We needed a steady pair of hands on a weapon. Salkic ran ahead of him and held up a hand. I saw Nasir’s shoulders heave as Salkic took a step forward and wrapped him in a hug.

For several minutes they talked to each other in gradually gentler tones. The rest of us kept our distance. At least it gave Benzil time to rest.

The torches below us were still on the move. A vehicle emerged from one of the barns, manoeuvred its way past our Audi, and headed back towards Sarajevo.

Salkic still had Nasir in his arms. They mumbled some more to each other. Both men were crying.

At length, they turned and came back up to us. Nasir carried on uphill a little way before kneeling. There was silence; no one spoke.

I stood up, and helped Benzil to his feet. ‘We need to get going and be over this high ground before first light, out of their line of sight.’

Exhausted as he was, Benzil’s only concern was for others. ‘Is Nasir all right?’

‘He will be,’ Salkic said, ‘but give him time. The man they just killed was his youngest brother.’ He paused. ‘And my brother-in-law.’