'God was surely watching over you to bring you here," said Balashov.
'God didn't bring me here,' said Samarin. 'A man brought me here. The man who is following me now. The Mohican. Have you heard his name?'
'No. I mean, I know the novel, of course.'
'This Mohican is no older than you or me, and he has the respect of all the great thieves, from Odessa to Sakhalin. They're afraid of him. The Mohican climbs over bodies to get where he wants to go just as lightly as you're stepping on those sleepers there. Even in prison, he was the freest man I ever met. The ties that form at once between two people, whether they're brothers or complete strangers like us, don't exist for him. He doesn't deal in honour, or duty, or obligation, or care.'
'And yet he took you with him when he escaped.'
'Yes. He took me for food. We ran in January, when there is nothing to eat in the Taiga, let alone the tundra, and the deer herders are too far south. He took me with him intending to salughter, butcher and eat me, like a pig.'
'God have mercy on us.'
'What could be better than food that walks alongside you, carries your goods, and keeps you company until the day you eat it?'
A People's Act of Love by James Meek