White Crocodile by K.T. Medina

She couldn’t lift her hand to see, in case the wire snagged taut; her fingers were slippery and numb, and so cold it felt as if both arms finished at her elbows. Holding her breath, she dipped her face into the water, chewed at the wire with her teeth, rancid water and blood filling her mouth as the wire sliced into her gums. Spitting blood, she straightened, panic beating around her now like wild wings.
    It was there, sitting next to her, huge and pale. Its smell settled over them like a cowl.
    ‘ Ta loak chong baan avwai? ’ She choked the words out through her tears. What do you want?
    It sniffed, as if it was scenting the air.
    ‘ Suom mehta .’ Please. ‘For my baby. Suom —’
    And then the figure spread its arms and embraced her.

Day 4
     
     

14
    Tess awoke with a jolt, to a juddering noise. Her first thought was: Christ, the anti-tank mine. She’d brought it back from the field and shoved it under her bed because that seemed as good a place as any to hide it until she decided what to do with it, who to tell.
    Groggily, she sat up. It felt as if she’d only been asleep for five minutes. Her gaze found the patio doors. They were open, the white curtains billowing in the breeze, backlit with an orange-yellow glow from the rising sun. Rolling out of bed, she grabbed her mobile phone.
    She took a moment to recognise the voice. ‘MacSween?’
    ‘I’ve just had a call. Some bairn – some baby – in a minefield.’
    What was he talking about? Her mind, still sluggish, struggled to comprehend.
    ‘A baby ?’
    ‘Aye. A baby.’
    ‘What’s a baby doing in a minefield?’
    ‘Welcome to Cambodia.’
    ‘But how did it get there?’
    ‘I have no idea.’
    ‘Where’s the mother?’
    ‘ They had no idea.’
    ‘Who are they? Who called it in?’
    ‘Médecins Sans Frontières. They’re out there giving malaria jabs. They like to start even earlier than we do.’
    ‘Is it in the—?’ The White Crocodile field – again? She didn’t need to voice it.
    ‘Aye. The baby is in Koh Kroneg. But don’t you start on that crap too, love. I’ve got enough superstitious idiots at MCT to fill a cathedral and then some.’
    Tess bit her lip. ‘Is it near to where Johnny was injured?’
    ‘Near enough. It’s a small village, on the western edge of the field – Johnny was north – about five kilometres from there. Médecins Sans Frontières were out at the village last week making a list of all the babies needing jabs, and when they went back this morning one was missing. Belongs to a teenage girl who got herself knocked up. Worse than death in a country like this, even with all the prostitution that goes on. They’ve been living alone in a hut on the edge of the village. Clive from MSF said it looked like they just upped and left right before bedtime. Sleeping roll laid out, but unslept in. They’ve spotted the baby abandoned in the minefield, but there’s no sign of the girl.’
    A pause. Tess remained stubbornly silent.
    ‘Look, love. I’m not too stupid to know that the last thing you want to do after Johnny’s accident is to face another tricky situation in that minefield, but as I already told you, I’ve given the teams a couple of days off. Jakkleson’s got the paperwork to do on Johnny, Alex has gone AWOL, and I can’t do it alone. If nothing else it’ll teach you not to answer your phone when you see my caller ID. Grab a quick coffee and a bite. I’ll see you outside the lovely Madam Chou’s in twenty.’
     
    *
     
    Standing on the balcony, the cool morning air eddying around her, Tess watched the sun rise. As she took a sip of coffee, she realised that her hands were shaking.
    It had been mid-May, her father had told her years later, spring in England, the trees in bud, when her mother had walked out on them. She had an image of being trapped in her pram in a hallway, staring at a trapezoid of daylight through an open doorway as her mother stepped out of it, into the sun. Then the door