In the Woods

The moonlight filtered through the thin clouds as Aznii and I waited at the edge of the forest road. The straps on my pack dug into my shoulders through layers of wool and down. Aznii paced in a tight circle, her boots crunching the ice and snow.

“This isn't looking good,” she whispered. “He should have been here by now.”

A snapping sound behind me froze my blood. Aznii reached for the small pistol she kept in her pocket as a thin man stepped from the shadows. I didn't start breathing again until Aznii broke into a sure grin.

I stood at the side as Aznii and our new companion spoke in rapid yet hushed tones. There was no use in trying to figure out what they were saying – my Russian was poor, and my Chechen non-existent. Finally, Aznii turned to me.

“This is an old friend,” she said to me. “I won't give you his name. If we're caught, our US passports may save us. You not knowing his name might save his.”

I nodded in greeting to the stranger. His threadbare coat was clean but badly patched. A scruffy beard filled out his thin cheeks. In his near-starved state, it was hard to guess his age.

“Is this a good idea?” I asked.

Aznii rolled her eyes. “We've come all this way, past borders we had no legal right to cross, risking arrest and death the entire way, and you ask that now? When we're within walking distance of delivering those medical supplies?”

The man laid a hand on Aznii's arm. “No, this is not a good idea,” he said in perfect English, “War never is. But I promise you safe passage. Follow me. I know the way. There are minefields around the woods.”

Word count: 300