The shrill screech of metal grinding against metal echoed for a long time across the desert plain. Finally, the coal train slowly shuddered to a violent halt.
Jingwei immediately felt all her nerves tense. Like a frightened young animal in the forest, she pricked up her ears, listening for the slightest sound outside the train car.
Heavy footsteps and hoarse conversations came from outside: it was the routine visit of the border post patrol. Each step resonated like a hammer blow on Jingwei's heart; she could almost feel her heart beating frantically in her chest. She didn't even dare to breathe too loudly, fearing the slightest sound would betray her.
Suddenly, the car door was brutally pulled open with a metallic clang. The powerful beam of a flashlight swept the interior, scanning the mountain of coal. Instinctively, Jingwei buried her head deeper, her body pressed against the icy sheet metal wall of the car.
A crew member, dressed in a thick uniform, appeared at the entrance. His gaze scrutinized the darkness of the car for a moment, then finally settled on Jingwei, curled up in the shadow of the coal heap.
He turned around, his broad back blocking the blinding light, and shouted in the Revachol language to those outside the car: "Nothing unusual inside! Keep moving!"
The footsteps and conversations gradually receded; the flashlight beam also disappeared. The car door was not immediately closed.
Just as Jingwei thought the danger was momentarily averted and sighed lightly with relief, the crew member retraced his steps. He said nothing, but quickly threw something wrapped in newspaper into the car. The package landed precisely near Jingwei's legs. An enticing smell of hot butter emanated from it.
Jingwei was stunned.
The crew member gave her another nod, then swiftly closed the car door. With a metallic clang, the car was once again plunged into darkness and silence, leaving only the faint, intermittent sound of wheels rubbing against the rails.
Her hands trembling, Jingwei fumbled to grab the package. She unwrapped it carefully. An intense smell of grilling tickled her nostrils: inside were a few roasted potatoes, their skins golden and crispy, their flesh soft and golden yellow. Each had been carefully cut in half, and a thick layer of melted butter had been spread in the middle, with, as the ultimate luxury, a few thin slices of cured ham glistening with fat.
Tucked between the potatoes was a small folded piece of paper.
She almost held her breath and, with fingers slightly stiff from the cold, hastily unfolded the thin paper. By the daylight, so faint it was almost non-existent, struggling to filter through the cracks in the car's sheet metal, she painstakingly deciphered the lines of distorted but clear and vigorous writing – it was in the Revachol alphabet, clearly written in haste with a pencil amidst the chaos of the journey:
"In about twenty minutes, the train will stop again temporarily to unload some of the coal. Watch your feet; the funnel-shaped hatch at the bottom of your car is going to open. Seize your chance, get out through the unloading opening, and run immediately towards the pine forest in a northwesterly direction. Comrade Nadejda Morozova (Надежда Морозова) will be waiting for you at the edge of the forest; she is driving a grey Volga car. Good luck. Happy New Year."
Seeing Morozova's name, her heart warmed; she was her former university professor.
She clutched the paper in her hand, sweat and grease quickly soaking it.
She immediately began to quickly pack her backpack. Old Han's bag was abnormally heavy; she had never dared to examine its contents. Lifting it abruptly at that moment, the weight made her stagger, and she nearly fell into the pile of coal.
It was then that she suddenly understood why this crew member, whom she didn't know, had risked bringing her food: this escape was not only a test of will but also a challenge to the limits of physical endurance.
She pulled herself together, took a still-warm roasted potato from the package, and, without worrying about the burning butter scalding her tongue, devoured several large bites. The warmth from the food quickly chased away some of the cold from her body and infused her with a strength she hadn't felt for a long time.
Time ticked by, minute after minute, each second seeming like torture on hot coals. Jingwei strained her ears, catching the slightest sound from outside.
Finally, the train slowly came to a halt again with an even more violent jolt and a shrill screech of metal. Confused calls and the clang of iron tools came from outside the car. Then, she felt the floor of the car beneath her feet vibrate to the sound of a loosening mechanism – the funnel-shaped unloading hatch was opening!
An icy wind laden with coal dust brutally rushed in from below, engulfing her in an instant.
She heard two workers, apparently drunk, complaining about something not far outside the car, their accents thick, the sound of their shovels clanking. They seemed to be casually arguing about who would start shoveling the coal.
This was the moment!
Jingwei hesitated no longer. She took a deep breath, bent down, and, just when the two swearing and distracted workers least expected it, she slipped through the funnel opening, using her hands and feet, clumsily but quickly.
She fell heavily onto the cold, hard ballast mixed with coal slag. Immediately, she scrambled to pull herself out of the coal pile, hard lumps hitting her. Without bothering to dust off the coal dust covering her, she followed her instinct and the note's instructions and began to run, staggering, with all her might, towards the blurred, dark silhouette of the pine forest she remembered seeing in a northwesterly direction.
The icy wind whistled in her ears. Behind her, the train and the confused curses of the workers gradually receded.
Her legs were as heavy as lead. She trudged through the ankle-deep snow. The icy wind, like an invisible hand, tore at her thin clothes and tried to rip away the little warmth and strength she had left.
Behind her, the coal train spewing black smoke had long since disappeared at the end of the snowy plain, leaving only two solitary railway tracks stretching into the distance.
The pine forest, to the northwest, was her only hope.
She had been walking for over two hours, perhaps more. Time, here, had lost all meaning; only the infinite cold, hunger, and a bone-gnawing fatigue reminded her of her existence. After entering the coniferous forest, the gnarled trunks of the tall pines and the dense layers of needles veiled the sky, making the light in the forest even dimmer and more uncertain. On the snow, apart from her own footprints, some deep, some shallow, sometimes the claw marks of some unknown wild beast appeared.
Gradually, exhaustion made each of her steps extraordinarily difficult. Once, her foot slipped, and she tumbled uncontrollably down a snowy slope covered with pebbles and dead branches. The heavy backpack struck her violently in the back, almost knocking the wind out of her. She struggled back to her feet. Her knees and calves burned; her coarse canvas trousers had been torn by sharp stones, and blood seeped out, leaving small scarlet stains on the immaculate snow.
She gritted her teeth, not daring to stop. She merely wiped her wounds summarily with snow and resumed her arduous march.
Soon after, she thought she heard faint, intermittent dog barks behind her. Were they the border patrol dogs? This thought suddenly constricted her heart. She didn't dare turn back, merely quickening her pace desperately, crossing the dense forest by random paths.
Sharp branches scratched her face and the backs of her hands, leaving bloody trails.
It was then that she stepped into empty space and fell into a shallow hole covered by snow – undoubtedly an old hunter's trap. Fortunately, the hole was not deep, and its bottom was lined with a thick layer of dead leaves. She fell heavily, stunned, her backpack thrown to the side.
The barking wandered nearby for a while, then, seeming to have lost her trail, gradually faded away.
Jingwei, collapsed at the bottom of the hole, gasped heavily. The icy air she inhaled cut her throat like a knife. Fear and fatigue, like two giant hands, gripped her, preventing her from moving. She really... really couldn't go on.
She closed her eyes. Tears, mixed with sweat and dried blood, flowed from her eyelids.
She didn't know how much time passed. The instinct for survival finally overcame despair. She struggled out of the hole, found her backpack, and oriented herself as best she could – the sun, behind lead-colored clouds, cast a faint glow that barely allowed her to distinguish northwest.
Again, she didn't know how long she walked. The trees began to thin out, and a slightly more open clearing seemed to appear before her. Her heart leaped. She quickened her pace and pushed aside a final curtain of dense bushes –
There it was!
A grey Volga car, covered in mud, stood motionless at the edge of the pine forest, on the snow. Beside the car, a figure bundled in a thick woolen coat and a headscarf paced nervously on the ground, glancing at her watch from time to time, then scanning the depths of the forest.
It was her! It had to be Professor Nadia!
At that moment, the fear, sorrow, fatigue, and despair that Jingwei had accumulated for days, even months, along with the little strength she had left to cling on in this desperate situation, surged like a torrent. Her legs buckled, her vision blurred, the world began to spin.
She wanted to scream, but no sound came from her throat. She reached out, wanting to grasp this hope within reach, but only grasped the icy air.
Before losing consciousness completely, she thought she saw that figure turn abruptly, a mixture of surprise and concern on her face, then run towards her...
When she awoke, Jingwei found herself in a soft, warm bed, covered with a thick blanket that smelled of sunshine. The light in the room was soft, and the air was filled with a light mixture of disinfectant and black soap odor.
Where... where was she?
She sat up abruptly, her heart pounding violently from sudden panic.
The backpack! Your notes!
Her gaze searched frantically around the room.
Finally, under the bed, she saw that familiar backpack, covered in coal dust and mud. She almost threw herself out of bed, grabbed the bag, and hugged it tightly. With a trembling hand, she unfast идеальный the buckles and eagerly searched inside. One, two... None of your notebooks were missing; the negatives were also intact.
She let out a long sigh of relief, her tense body instantly relaxing.
"You're awake. How do you feel?" A soft, slightly hoarse female voice sounded beside her.
Jingwei looked up and saw Nadia sitting on the edge of her bed, looking at her with concern. She was about sixty years old, wearing a simple work blouse, her face marked by the trials of time, but her gaze was exceptionally bright and warm. It was her! It was Nadia!
"We're at the hospital, my child. Not far from the university." Morozova's voice possessed a reassuring strength. She reached out and gently patted the back of Jingwei's hand. "You were in critical condition: high fever, dehydration, and multiple injuries. I brought you here."
Jingwei opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but her throat was so dry that no sound came out.
Morozova handed her a glass of lukewarm water: "Wei, you slept for three whole days. The doctors gave you a full examination." She paused, her tone becoming a little more complex, her gaze mixing a hint of pity with a barely perceptible relief. "The results... you are pregnant, my child."
Jingwei felt as if a thunderclap had exploded in her head. The whole world stood still.
"Pre... pregnant?" she repeated, incredulous, her gaze fixed on Morozova, as if to make sure she had heard correctly.
Morozova sighed, her gaze softening even more: "Yes, the doctor came by earlier. According to the physiological indicators, you and the fetus are fine for now, but you are very weak; you need a lot of rest." Her voice broke, tinged with a certain gravity. "But... poor child, what on earth have you endured?"
Jingwei remained stunned, her gaze resting blankly on her still-flat stomach. She was overwhelmed by a flood of contradictory emotions, not knowing what to do.