The Pass (Wattys 2019)

Chapter Fourteen

Zima's place looked liked it had been bombarded by the Nazis during the last war. And then run over by a tank. And then put up with the same pieces as before. The roof was metal, the house itself cracking concrete. The windows were dirty, but she could tell that there were some floral drapes in them. As if someone had hoped that putting the drapes up like that would make the place less depressing. There were scraggly, mostly dead bushes in the yard, covering up part of the path. All in all, it looked like a great place to get murdered by a guy listening to voices in his head.

"Welcome to Castle Zima," Zima said grandly as they walked up to the door, which was painted a bright, horribly depressing blue. "Not much, but it's home. It'll keep you warm for the night, not to mention the fact that I make a pretty mean stew."

He opened the door and motioned them all inside.

All of them hesitated.

"Come on, now," Zima said. "I don't bite. The bed bugs are all dead, even."

Peter gave Nika a look when he said that. He's not joking about that, is he? He seemed to ask.

Nika kind of wanted to get out of there, but they didn't have much of a choice. This would be their last night in civilization, before they headed out to the wilds of the Urals. They all needed some good quality sleep, and they wouldn't be able to get another room so last minute.

And so, she walked in, and everyone else followed.

The house was just about as dilapidated as the outside, but it was still kind of cozy. He'd already set out some cots for them all, complete with old quilts, all surrounding his fireplace. His kitchen smelled like someone was cooking, and it smelled good.

Maybe staying here won't be so bad, after all, Nika thought to herself.

And then, she saw the rat.

She cursed, just about jumped out of her skin. "Rat!"

"Ah, don't worry about him," Zima said. "That's just Boris."

Boris?

"So... he's your..." Peter began.

"My pet," Zima confirmed as he stepped inside and picked up the rat. Nika expected the rat to bite him and scurry off, but instead, the rat allowed it, even seemed comfortable when Zima put him on his shoulder. Looked like it was domesticated, after all. "He's a little shy with new people, but he won't bite. Give him a little piece of cheese, and he'll be your best friend for life."

Zima lumbered into the small kitchen area. "Settle in: I think the grub's just about ready."

The group all sat down, declaring their cots.

Rufina stared at Zima as he stirred the stew with Boris still on his shoulder, whistling Katyusha as he went. "You... don't think that rat's paws have been all over the food, do you?"

"I don't think he washed his hands, either," Yuri said.

"Relax," Arisha said. "It's not like you're going to get the plague."

Just as she said that, Zima called from the kitchen: "Ladies and gentlemen, I do believe dinner's served."

Possible plague or no plague, Nika was starving. She stood up and walked into the kitchen area to get herself a bowl of stew.

Zima didn't really have a kitchen table, so they all sat back down on their cots with their stew and stale bread. Zima sat in the rocking chair pushed into the corner of the living room, Boris still on his shoulder.

When Nika began to eat, she was surprised to find that the stew actually did taste good. Which was good: if she ended up getting some unspeakable rat disease from it, she at least wanted to enjoy contracting it.