The Boy from Reactor 4

“Spare parts?”

“Spare parts from automobiles, ambulances, and bulldozers. In this case, a starter.”

“A starter?”

“Yes, yes, a starter. From an ambulance. A starter is a motor. A battery supplies electricity to the starter. The starter gives power to the engine.”

Nadia remembered the vehicular burial ground on the way to Pripyat. “You mean from a radioactive ambulance? That starter is hot?”

“Yes, from an ambulance from the Zone. It may or may not be hot. Who knows?”

“Anton…”

“Okay, yes. It’s probably hot. And it will find its way into an ambulance in Kyiv someday. All the vehicles in the Zone have been stripped. Anything of value can be sold.”

“What about the two rods?”

“What rods?” Anton said.

“There were two rods, about six inches long and an inch in diameter—sorry, about fifteen centimeters long by three centimeters in diameter.”

Anton mumbled something under his breath in Russian.

“What’s wrong?” Nadia said. “Your partner holding out on you?”

“Partner? What partner? Who, me?”

“You have a nice apartment. With a beautifully equipped kitchen. Even if you supplement your income by driving a cab…Oh. Wait. What was it you said to me when we first met? Ukrainian salary. It’s hell.”

A moment of silence passed between them.

“Okay,” Anton said. “Hayder is a scavenger. And I am his driver. I help with logistics. A good starter on the open market, it’s worth three hundred US dollars. Three hundred US. You have to live here to understand how much money that is and how hard it is to make it.”

“But you’re helping put radioactive parts in vehicles in Kyiv. Some mechanic is going to touch that with his bare hands.”

“Well, then that’s his bad luck. Water overflows from the cooling ponds, seeps into the streams, and empties into the Dnipro. I drink that water every day. This isn’t America. This is Ukraine. You have no idea how good you have it. Here, life is hard, then you die.”

They drove for a while without saying anything more. The rain subsided. White clouds chased each other across the sky. The sun peeked between them.

“After we eat, I’ll be leaving,” Nadia said. “Tonight.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

He took an exit and merged onto a main thoroughfare. Nadia didn’t recognize the street, but a sign said NOVOKOSTANTINIVSKA STREET.

“I meant to ask you,” Nadia said. “Why did you drive the van through the fence in Chernobyl? I thought all cars that are in the Zone stay in the Zone.”

“They do.”

“But now the van is hot, isn’t it? I mean, at least its tires are.”

“Yup. I have to have them stripped, burned, and replaced tonight before I give it back to Radek.” Anton took a sharp left. “But it was worth it.”

“That’s sweet. Thank you. Thank you for caring.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

He smiled, turned right, and mashed the gas pedal. The Volkswagen hesitated before surging forward. Nadia’s head snapped back against her headrest. In front of them rose a dilapidated gray warehouse on an abandoned lot. A pair of doors swung open sideways, as they would on a barn.

The van hurtled into the building. The brakes screeched.

Nadia lurched forward until the seat belt strangled her. She fell back. The belt loosened and slid back down around her chest.

A black Audi and two black SUVs were parked in front of them. One of the SUVs was a Porsche Cayenne. Nadia didn’t recognize the six men lollygagging in front of the SUVs, but she’d seen the other three before. Victor, Misha, and the distinguished-looking man she’d evaded in the Caves Monastery were waiting for her.

“What I meant,” Anton said, “is that you’re worth more alive than you are dead.”

CHAPTER 46

THE HOCKEY COACH might kill him.

He might have to kill the coach first.

Adam’s folding knife bounced around his warm-up pants pocket as he ripped through a set of burpees:

Squat down, thrust the legs back, fall nose to the ground, and do a push-up; squat up, leap as high as possible, bringing knees to chin, and land, prepared to squat down immediately into the next rep.

“You look anxious today, loser,” the coach said. “Like something is weighing on your mind. Like you’re planning a trip somewhere.”

He stuck his face a few centimeters from Adam’s head as he landed on the top block.

A whiff of raw garlic breath. Adam gagged.

“You planning a trip somewhere, loser? You think you’re going somewhere without my knowing about it? Without my approval?”

Adam jumped down the blocks on his right foot and switched back to his left. The coach knew. The coach knew he was leaving. Either his father had told him or the fat bastard had figured it out himself.

The coach might kill him.

He might have to kill the coach first.

Adam resumed box jumps off his weighted left foot.