Rabbit, Soldier, Angel, Thief - by Katrina Nannestad

I wait a little longer, then slip out of the shadows. The way is clear now. I slither like a lizard, no longer feeling cold or pain, fear or fatigue. I make straight for my target, pale and plump, almost shining in the night. I pull back my arm, clench my jaw, then stab. I plunge the knife in as deep as it will go. A voice cries out, waking soldiers all around me, but I’m here now and determined to finish what I started. I pull downward and the blade of the knife rips the stab wound wide. There’s another howl and a bright flash. A searchlight draws a line through the darkness. Then two. They dash about, their beams crossing and separating and scanning past my face and my feet and the crying, howling soldier who’s now cursing, too. I grab what I came for, squeeze my fist tight and run like a rabbit. I run and trip and collide with soldiers and bits of iron and metal and fabric, dodging one searchlight, then another, until at last I’m hit. Blinded by the light. Frozen to the spot. Caught.

I remain silent as the nurse guides me back to bed. It’s Irena, my favourite. She’s young and pretty and talks a lot about her family at home in Siberia.

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