Metro 2034

CHAPTER 17 Who’s Talking?

Artyom lowered his glowing barrel. Sweat and tears burnt in his eyes. But the back of his hand only hit his gasmask. Should he just rip it off? What difference did it make now?

What difference did it make now…

The screams of the infected had apparently been louder than the salves of the rifles. How else was could he explain it to himself that more and more had streamed out of the wagon and stormed into the hail of led? Hadn’t they heard the thunder, hadn’t they not understood that they were executed in their close area? For what had they hoped? Or hadn’t they cared at all?

In front of the entrance to the train platform was covered for meters with bloated corpses.

Some were still twitching; yes even some of them were moaning on this terrible graveyard like hill. The pest had spilled out. Those who were still in the wagon had cowered down in fear and hid from the bullets.

Artyom looked at the other marksmen. Was he the only one whose hands and knees were shivering? Nobody said a word and even the commander was silent. You could only here the sighing of the humans who were still in the overcrowded train, like they were cramped trying to suppress bloody coughing. Out of the morgue the last dying man cursed them: “You monsters… Pigs… I’m still alive… Can’t stand it.”

The commander looked for the unlucky until he found him, went to his knees and fired the rest of his clip of his magazine into the man until you could only hear an empty clicking sound and even then he pulled the trigger a few more times.

Then he rose up again, looked at his pistol and strangely cleaned it on his pants. “The rest of you: Stay calm!”

He screamed huskily. “Everybody who tries to leave the hospital without permission will get the same treatment.”

“What are we supposed to do with the bodies.”

Asked someone.

“Back into the train. Ivanenko, Aksyonov you do it!”

The stability had been renewed. Artyom could return to his seat again and try to find some sleep: Until the wake-up call there were still a few hours so he could make it till tomorrow…

But it came differently.

Ivanenko made a step back, shook his head and said he refused to touch the in pus covered, half fallen apart bodies. Without hesitation the commander put his pistol at him, but he seemed to have forgotten that he was out of bullets, hissed hatefully and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened but a clicking sound. Ivanenko screamed and ran away.

Suddenly one of the soldiers raised his assault rifle coughing and rammed the bayonet with an oblique movement into the commander’s back. The commander didn’t drop down but turned his head slowly over his shoulder and looked at the attacker behind him.

“What are you doing you damn son of a whore?”

He asked him silently and surprised.

The other one screamed at him: “Soon you’ll get rid of us like as well! There are no more healthy here! Today we kill them and tomorrow you throw us to them into the wagon!” The man moved the gun from one side to the other and tried to pull it out of the commander put didn’t pull the trigger.

Nobody dared to intervene. Even Artyom who had made one step into the other direction had stopped. Finally the bayonet got out of his back. The commander tried to touch the wound, in vain. He fell to his knees, leaned on his hand and shook his head. It looked like he was fighting against sleep.

Nobody dared to shot at the commander. Even the provocateur who had stabbed him stepped back afraid. Then he ripped his gasmask from his face and screamed over the entire station pass: “Brothers! Stop this torture! Let them go! They are going to die anyways! And we too! Aren’t we humans?”

“Don’t you dare…” Hissed the commander still on his knees.

The marksmen started to discuss loudly. Suddenly one of the soldier fired the provocateur straight in his face so that he fell onto his back. He was laying right next to the other bodies. But it was too late: With a triumphal howling the infected streamed out of the train, ran stumbling on their thick legs, ripped the rifles out of the hands of the undecided guards and disappeared into all directions. Even the guards started to move: Some of them shot at the sick; others had already joined them and ran into the tunnels leading to the north. To the Serpuchovskaya and to the Nagatinskaya.

Artyom was still standing as if he was made out of stone and stared at the commander confused.

He just refused to die. At first he was crawling on his hands and feet, then he stood up and started to stumble. It seemed that he had a certain goal.

“You’ll be surprised.” He mumbled. “It’s not that easy to… Me…”

His glassy look stopped at Artyom. He looked at him as if he didn’t recognize who he was and then he barked with the same tone as always: “Popov! Get me to the room of the radio operator! The guards at northern post have to close the door at all costs…”

The commander leaned on Artyom’s shoulder and both stumbled past the empty train, past the fighting humans and the mountains of trash until they finally reached the of the radio operator. The wound of the commander seemed to not have been fatal but he had lost a lot of blood. So his strength left him and he passed out.

Artyom put the chair in front of the door, took the microphone and dialed the number of the northern guard. The apparatus clicked, there was a rasping sound as if somebody was breathing exhausted and finally silence. It was too late.

He could no longer cut them off. But the Dobryinskaya, he had to warn them at least! He rushed to the telephone, pressed both buttons and waited a few seconds…

Thank god, the apparatus was still working! At first he could only hear the whispering echo and then the ringing.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six…

Please god, let them answer! If they are still alive, if they aren’t infected yet, let them answer, so that they could have a chance. Let somebody pick up the receiver before the infected reach the station… Artyom would’ve sold his soul for it, if somebody would just pick up the receiver at the other end…

Then the unimaginable happened. The seventh calling broke the silence; a croaking sound was to be heard, in the background a few shreds of words and then a breathless, broken voice cut through the static.

“Dobryninskaya here!”

The cell was plunged into half darkness but even the bit of light was enough to notice: The silhouette of this prisoner was to small and lifeless to be the brigadier. It looked like there was a puppet made out of hay behind the bars. The person had collapsed. Probably it was one of the guards, dead.

But where was Hunter…

“I almost thought you wouldn’t come.” It sounded the hollow from behind them. “In there it was to… Narrow.”

Melnik turned around so fast that Homer couldn’t keep up. In the middle of the passage way to the station was the brigadier. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, as if he mistrusted them and feared to let them go.

Melnik’s cheek twitched. “Is that you?”

“Still.” Hunter cleared his throat strangely. If Homer wouldn’t have know better he could’ve interpreted the sound as some kind of laugh.

“What’s with you? With your face?” Probably Melnik wanted to ask something else entirely.

With one gesture of his hand the guards distanced themselves.

Homer was allowed to stay.

“You’re not in the best condition either.” The brigadier cleared his throat again.

“Nothing special.” Melnik made a grimace. “Just too bad that I can’t hug you. The devil take… How long we’ve searched for you!”

“I know. I had to… Be alone for some time.” Said Hunter in his typical way. “I…didn’t want to go back to the people. Wanted to disappear forever. But then I was afraid…”

“What happened back then, with the dark ones? Is that from them?” Melnik pointed with his head at the violet scars on Hunters face.

“Nothing happened. I wasn’t able to destroy them.”

He touched his scar. “I couldn’t. They… Broke me”

“Then you had been right back then.” Said Melnik with unexpected intensity. “Forgive me! At the beginning I didn’t think it was important and didn’t believe you. Back then we… You know it yourself. We found them and burnt them down. We thought you were no longer alive. And that they… That’s why I… Them… For you… To the last!”

“I know.” Said Hunter huskily. It must be hard for him to talk about it “They knew it would come to it. Because of me. They knew everything. The fate of every single one of us. If you knew against whom we had raised our hand back then! Back then he had smiled on us one more time. And we… And I’ve judged them and you carried out the sentence. That’s how we are. The true monsters…”

“What are you talking about?”

“When I got to them… They showed my myself. Back then it was like I was looking into a mirror and I saw everything for what it was. I understood everything about me. About humanity. Why everything had happened to us…”

“What are you talking about?” Melnik stared at his comrade worried and looked hastily to the door. Did he regret that he had sent the guards away?

“I tell you, I have seen myself with my own eyes, like in a mirror. Not from the outside, but from the inside, what was behind the armor… They brought it to the light. The monster. I didn’t see a man back then. And I had been afraid of myself. I had lied to myself… Told myself that I am here to protect the people, to save them… All lies! Like a hungry animal a went for their throat. Even worse… The mirror disappeared but this here… This… Remained. It awoke and didn’t let me in peace. They thought I would kill myself after that. And yes: For what should I still live? But I didn’t do it. I had to fight. At first alone so that no one could see it. Far away from the people. I thought I could punish myself so they didn’t have to. I thought I could chase it away through pain…” The brigadier touched his scars.

“But then I realized that I couldn’t defeat it on my own. Again and again I forgot myself… So I returned.”

“Brainwashing.” Said Melnik. “That’s what they did to you.”

“It doesn’t matter! It is already over.” Hunter took his hand from his face and his voice changed: Now it was again dull and lifeless.

“At least almost. The story is old. What happened, happened. No we’re alone. We have to fight through… But I’m not here because of that. At the Tulskaya there has been an outbreak of an epidemic. It could spread to the Sevastopolskaya and the ring. The air fever. The same as back then. Deadly.”

Melnik gave him a distrusting look. “Nobody has told me anything about that.”

“Nobody told anybody anything. They’re cowards.

That’s why they lie. And keep it to themselves.

They don’t understand what they doing.

Melnik rolled closer to the brigadier. “What do you want from me?”

“You know that as good as I do. The threat has to be eliminated. Give me my tags. Give me men. Flamethrowers. We have to lock down the Tulskaya and clean it. If needed, the Serpuchovskaya and the Sevastopolskaya as well. I hope that it didn’t get any further.”

“To just cut out three stations, just in case?”

“To save the rest.”

“After a massacre like that they will hate the order.”

“Nobody is going to know about it. Because there won’t be anybody left that could infect others… Or have seen something.”

“For such a heavy price?”

“Don’t you understand? If we hesitate longer we won’t be able to save anybody anymore. We heard of the epidemic too late. There is no other possibility to stop it. In two weeks the entire metro is a pest barrack and after one month a graveyard.”

“I have to see for myself…”

“You don’t believe me, don’t you? You think I’ve gone mad? Well believe what you want, I don’t care. I go alone. Like always. But at least I go with a clear conscience.”

Hunter turned away, without taking a single look at the frozen Homer and moved to the exit. His last words had hit Melnik like a harpoon and it was dragging him behind the brigadier.

“Wait! Take your tags!” Hastily Melnik took them out of the pocket of his uniform and gave hunter the simple disks. “I… Approve.”

The brigadier took the tags out of his bony hand, put them into his pocket, nodded his head silent and took a long look without closing his eyes.

He mumbled. “Come back. I am tired.”

Hunter cleared his throat again in that strange way and said: “I on the other hand have never felt better.”

Then he disappeared.

A long time Sasha didn’t dare to ring again so that she wouldn’t make the watchers of the emerald city angry.

They had probably heard her but needed more time to study here thoroughly. They hadn’t opened the door which seemed to be rooted in the ground, but that must have meant that they were still discussing if they should let this stranger in who apparently had guessed the secret code on her first try.

What should she say when they opened the door? Should she tell them of the epidemic at the Tulskaya? Would they risk influencing the story? What if they guessed her intentions right away like Leonid had done? Should she admit to them what she hadn’t even admitted to herself? Would Sasha even be able to melt their cold hearts? When they had already cured that terrible disease before why hadn’t they sent a currier with the medicine to the Tulskaya? Just because they were afraid of ordinary people? Or did they hope that the disease would kill all the people in the metro?

Or in the end they were the ones who had created the disease…

No! How could she even think about that? Leonid had said that the people of the emerald city were righteous and humane. That they didn’t use the death sentence and didn’t even imprison you.

That in the midst of all their beauty there wasn’t even one criminal.

Then why didn’t they save these death candidates?

And why didn’t they open the door?

She rang again. And again.

Behind the steel door it was as silent as if it was fake and a thousand tons of rock were behind it.

“They won’t open.”

Sasha turned around. About ten steps behind her was Leonid, crouched down, with tousled hair and a depressed face.

Sasha looked at him unbelieving. “Then you try it! Maybe they have forgiven you? That’s why you came with me or not?”

“There is nothing to forgive. There is nothing.”

“But you’ve said…”

“I lied. That isn’t the entrance to the emerald city.”

“Then where is it?”

“I don’t know.” He raised his arms. “Nobody knows.”

“And why did they let you through all the posts? So you’re no watcher? You did… At the ring and the reds… You’re playing games again, yes? You told me about the city and you didn’t want to!” She tried to get a look at his face, to get confirmation of her assumption.

Leonid was looking at the ground. “Back then I’ve dreamed about it myself. Have gathered rumors, read old books. I’ve been a hundredth times at this place. And there was the bell… And I rang it for days. In vain.”

“Why did you lie to me?” She approached him, her right hand reaching for her knife. “What have I done to you? Why have you done this?”

“I wanted to take you away from them.” The knife confused the musician but instead of running away he sat onto the tracks. “I thought when you were alone with me…”

“And why are you here now?”

“Hard to say.” He looked up at her. “Probably I’ve realized that I’ve gone too far. After I sent you here… I started thinking. The soul isn’t born black. In the beginning it’s clear and light shines through. It

only gets darker over time. Spot after spot, every time when you forgave evil, tried to justify it and tell

yourself that it’s just a game. Then one day darkness has the upper hand. You only notice it rarely, it’s

hard to notice from the inside. But I knew that right here I am crossing a line from which on I’m going to

be a different person. Forever. And that’s why I’m here, telling you everything. Because you’ve earned it”

“Why are they all afraid of you? Why are they bowing down to you?”

“Not to me.” Sighed Leonid. “To my father”

“What?”

“Does the name Moskwin tell you anything?”

Sasha shook her head. “No.”

The musician made a sad smile. “You’re probably the only one in the entire metro. Well my father is the big boss. The big boss of the red line. He gave me a diplomat passport so they would let me through everywhere. The name isn’t that common and nobody wants to get into trouble. Only when somebody doesn’t know it…”

Sasha had stepped back and looked at him.

“And what are you watching? Did they send you because of that?”

“They threw me out. When daddy realized that no real man is going to become of me he no longer cared about me.

And now I’m bringing shame to his name.” Leonid made a grimace.

“Did you two argue?”

“How can you argue with the great comrade Moskwin? He is a monument! They banished and cursed me. You know I’ve been a fool in Christi since I was a child. I only liked beautiful paintings, playing the piano and reading books. That was my mother’s fault because she had wanted a girl. When my father had realized that he had tried to get me interested in firearms and the party but it was already too late. Mother taught me how to play the flute and father drove it out of me again with his belt. He banished the professor who had taught me and put a Politruk at my side. Everything in vain. I had already been corrupted to the core. I hate the red line, it was to… Grey to me. I wanted a colorful life, wanted to play music and paint. So my father once let a mosaic be destroyed for educational purposes. With that I learnt that everything beautiful could perish. And he made me destroy it. And so I did. But while I did that I remembered every detail, even now I could still put it together… And since that moment I hated my father.”

“You can’t say that!” Yelled Sasha horrified.

“I can.” Leonid smiled. “Others are shot for it. That with the emerald city… My professor had told me about it.

He had whispered it to me when I was still small.

And so I decided to find the entrance when I would be older. There had to be a place where for what I was for living made sense. Where all live was like back then. Where I wasn’t a small, ugly no good, no white handed prince and no inheritor to the red line but an equal under equals.”

“And you’ve never found that place.” Sasha put away her knife. She had found the core of all his words.

“Because it doesn’t exist.”

Leonid shrugged with his shoulders. He stood up, went to the bell and rang it. “Probably it doesn’t matter if somebody hears me on the other side. Probably it doesn’t even matter if this place even exists. The main thing is that I believe that it exists somewhere. That someone hears me. And that I haven’t earned the right yet so that they would open up.

“And that’s enough for you?”

Again the musicians shrugged with his shoulders.

“It’s always have been enough for the world, so it’s enough for me.”

Homer ran onto the train platform and looked around confused. Hunter was nowhere to be seen.

Behind him Melnik rolled out of the prison, grey and beat down as if the brigadier had received not just his tags but also his from him soul.

Why had he ran away again and to where? Why had he left Homer? He wouldn’t ask Melnik.

Homer was trying to get out of his way before he remembered him. So Homer acted like he wanted to catch up to the brigadier and stepped away hastily. Waiting for a yell from behind. But Melnik didn’t seem to be interested in him anymore.

Hunter had said that he needed Homer so that he wouldn’t forget his former self. Had he lied?

Maybe he had just tried to avoid a fighting polis in his rage which he could easily have lost and what would’ve blocked his way to the Tulskaya. His abilities and his killer instinct were paranormal but nobody could dare to storm an entire station. If that was true then Homer had served his purpose by accompanying Hunter to polis and now he had been pushed from the stage.

And not very soft.

So he had taken part in the end of the story, he had taken part in the final act that the brigadier, or whoever played the main role.

What were these tags? A passport? An insignia of power? A black mark? Forgiveness for all the sins that Hunter wanted to load onto his soul? Whatever it was: The brigadier had ripped the tags and his approval out of Melnik’s hand.

The brigadier’s hands were free to act. And he hadn’t planned to confess to anyone, that what had won inside of him, that monster that had appeared from time to time had won.

What would happen at the Tulskaya when Hunter would get through to it? Would he be able to quench his thirst when he drowned the entire station in blood, yes even two or three? Or would that what he was carrying inside of him grow till it knew no more bounds? Who of the two Hunters had Homer accompanied? The one that consumed the people or the one who fought against the monster? Which one had fallen to the ground at the fight of phantoms at the Polskaya? And who had asked for Homers help after that?

Yes, maybe Homer had another destiny: To kill him.

Was it maybe the small remnants of the old brigadier who had asked the old man for it out of despair? Did he see it all with his own eyes full of horror while the other hunter killed?

He couldn’t take his own life so the brigadier had chosen his henchman. A henchmen who you didn’t have to ask for anything, who had enough intuition to realize it on his own and smart enough to deceive the other Hunter. The second one who was getting more monstrous day after day and didn’t want to die.

But even though if Homer had the courage and waited for the right moment to kill Hunter when he wasn’t looking, what would that accomplish? He wouldn’t be able to stop the epidemic. So was there nothing he could do but keep watching and writing down?

Homer had guessed where the brigadier had gone. That almost mystical order, which apparently Melnik and Hunter were members of. Rumors said that they had their base at the Smolenskaya, the underground of polis. Its legionaries protected the metro and its inhabitants from all dangers that whole armies of common stations couldn’t deal with.

Nobody knew more about this mystical organization. The old man couldn’t even think about entering the Smolenskaya, it was without an entrance like the fortress Alamut. But for what: To meet with the brigadier he just had to go back to the Dobryninskaya. And wait till fate brought Hunter there without stopping, at the place of his coming crimes, the end station of this strange story.

Should he allow him to settle his score with the infected and disinfect the Tulskaya and then act accordingly to his will? Homer had always thought that he had a different role: Not to shoot, but to give immortality, not to judge and to not get involved and give the heroes of his book the possibility to act on their own. But when you’re standing in blood up to your knees it seemed impossible to not get dirty yourself. Now it was lucky that the girl had left with this smart guy. At least he had spared Sasha from seeing the horrible massacre with her own eyes; even she couldn’t have stopped it. He looked at the clock of the station: When the brigadier stuck to his schedule then Homer had only a few hours. Enough time to be alone. And ask polis for to dance with him one more time.

“And how do you want to earn the right to get in?” Asked Sasha.

“Well…” Leonid hesitated. “It’s stupid, I know, but… With my flute. I thought I could redeem myself with it.

You know, music is the first art to disappear. It only exists as long the instruments sounds and in the next moment it is gone without a trace. But nothing grips people as strong as music, nothing hurts so deep and heals so slowly. When somebody touches you with a melody it stays with you for your whole life. It is the extract of beauty. I thought I could heal the wounds of the soul with it.

“You’re strange.”

“But now I’ve realized that someone who is sick can’t heal sick people. If I don’t tell you everything I can never stop them”

She gave him a sharp look. “Do you think that I’m going to forgive you? Your lies, your cruelty?”

“Will you give me one last chance?” Leonid smiled at her. “You’ve said that we all deserve one.”

Sasha was silent. She had gotten more careful.

This time she wouldn’t get swept away by one of his strange games.

She had just thought that he was truly sorry and his words to be true and now… Again?

“Out of everything that I’ve told you one thing is true. There is a cure.” He said.

“Medication?” Sasha turned around; again ready to be lied to again.

“No medication. No pills, no vaccine. A few years ago at our line, the Preobraschenskaya, we had a similar disease”

“Why doesn’t hunter know of it?”

“There was no epidemic. The disease went away by itself. The virus can’t stand radiation.

Something happens to it, I think it stops dividing… Well you can stop the disease even with small doses.

We found it out. You don’t need anything else. The solution of the problem, so to speak is on the surface.”

Shivering she took his hand. “Really?”

“Really.” he put his hand in hers. “We don’t need to do anything else but get in contact with them and tell them.”

She let go of his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? That’s just! How many people die up till now!”

“After just one day? None… I didn’t want you to stay with this killer. I wanted to tell you from the beginning, but I wanted to trade this secret for you.”

“You’ve traded me against the life’s of others!”

Hissed Sasha. “I am not worth… One of them!”

The musician raised one eyebrow. “I would trade mine.”

“You don’t get to decide that! Stand up! We need to go back. And that fast. As long as he didn’t already make it to the Tulskaya…” Sasha put her finger on her watch, whispered something and sighed.

“Just three more hours!”

“Why? We can use the telephone. I’ll let them call Hanza and explain everything. Then we don’t have to run to there ourselves. We wouldn’t make it anyway…”

“No!” Sasha shook her head. “No! They won’t believe it. They wouldn’t belive us. I have to go to him myself and tell him. To explain to him…”

“And what then?” Said Leonid envious. “Then you give in to him just out of fun?”

“That’s none of your business.” She answered. But she immediately knew who she could control this man who had fallen in love the easiest: “I don’t want anything from him. But without him I don’t have any chance to get through.”

“It seems my lies have been a good teacher.”

Answered Leonid with a slight smile. Then he sighed. “Ok, let’s go.”

They reached the Sportivnaya in half an hour: The guards had changed and Leonid had to explain again how a girl without a passport could’ve crossed the border to the red line.

Sasha looked nervous at her watch and Leonid at her, you could see that he was torn from one side to the other.

He was fighting with himself.

On the train platform, thin recruits put a few bundles of wares on an old, stinking railcar, drunk workers acted like they were stopping a leak and a few children in uniforms sang a children’s song. In five minutes they had stopped Leonid and her to see their passports a few times and the control at the tunnel to the Frunsenskaya took especially long.

Time was running out. Sasha didn’t even know if they could make it in the two hours that were left of their ultimatum anymore. Nobody could stop Hunter and it could be possible that he had already started with his operation.

The soldiers had finished loading the railcar, the railcar spit out smoke, started moving and came closer.

Leonid made a decision.

“I don’t want to let you go.” He said. “But I can’t stop you. I thought if I made sure that you came too late you wouldn’t need anything there anymore. But I’ve understood that I can’t get you that way. Being honest is the worst way to get a woman, but I don’t want to lie anymore. Choose yourself with whom you want to be.”

The musician ripped the border guard the wonder passport out of his hand and punched him surprisingly fast at the chin. Then he took Sasha’s hand and dragged her with him onto the railcar which was leaving at that moment. When he driver looked around he looked surprised into the barrel of a revolver.

Leonid was laughing loudly. “Dad would be proud of me now! How often did I have to hear that I’m just wasting my time and that I’ll never be something with my stupid flute! And finally when I act like a real man he isn’t here! What a tragedy!” Then he ordered the driver “Jump!” He even though they were going fast dropped to the ground and rolled behind in the darkness screaming. Leonid started to throw their cargo overboard, with every bundle that fell onto the tracks the motor roared louder. The old search light in front the railcar threw a secure and flickering light forward that maybe reached a few meters. Screaming like somebody was scraping on glass, rats were chased away by the wheels and a surprised tunnel guard jumped to the side at the last moment and in the distance they could hear the hysterical howling of the alert siren. The tunnel segments went by them faster and faster, Leonid brought the last bit of speed out of the machine.

They flew past the Frunsenskaya. The unknowing guards stormed away like the rats and only as the railcar had left the station far behind angrily the siren of the Sportivnaya howled alarm.

“Now it has started!” Screamed Leonid. “We got to make it to the ring line at the next side tunnel! There is a huge defense line where they’re going to try and stop us. We drive on along the line to the center!”

He knew about what they had to be afraid off: Out of the side tunnel that had lead her to the red line, the search light of a diesel powered railcar hit them. The tunnel was only a few feet away from them and it was too late to stop. Leonid pressed the rough pedal to the metal and Sasha closed her eyes… It was only left to hope that they hadn’t changed the tracks to theirs yet, if they would have a frontal collision with the other vehicle. A machine gun thundered and bullets flew only a few centimeters over their heads. The smell of something burning and the hot air surrounded them, the other motor roared and went silent again. The two vehicles had missed each other like out of a miracle.

As soon as the railcar had passed the tunnel the other railcar followed their trail. While they drove to the Park kultury, swinging from one side to the other, the diesel powered railcar drove into the other direction.

They still had a head start. To the next station it would be enough, but what then? The railcar got slower, the tunnel was going uphill. Leonid turned to Sasha. “The next station is Park kultury, it’s almost directly under the surface. The Frunsenskaya on the other hand is fifty meters below it. We got to get over that hill and then we’re going to pick up speed again!”

And it happened that way: When they had reached Park kultury they had gotten faster again.

The station was old and prideful, with a high ceiling but somehow lifeless, dark and only sparsely inhabited. Croaking a siren raised its husky voice. Behind defense lines made out of bricks you could see many heads. Assault rifles barked angry. But too late, they couldn’t do anything.

“Maybe we’ll even stay alive!” Leonid laughed.

“With a bit of luck…”

They saw how something that looked like a spark in the darkness at first, then it got brighter and closer. It was the search light of diesel powered railcar! The ray out light was like a spear it had raised in front of it, as if it wanted to ram it into the old railcar t. It ate the distance between them. Again machine guns were fired and bullets went past them howling.

“Not long now! There is the Kropotkinskaya!”

The Kropotkinskaya, divided into squares, full of tents, run down and unclean. Certain portraits on the wall which had been painted a long time ago and were already smeared. Flags and nothing but flags, so many that they formed a continuous red band like frozen blood in vein out of stone.

This time it was a grenade launcher that threw its cargo after them. A hail of marble splinters rained down onto the railcar and one of them hit Sasha’s leg without leaving a deep wound. They had dropped a barricade from the ceiling but the railcar just broke through it while it almost went off the rails.

The diesel powered railcar got closer and closer: Its motor was a lot more powerful and moved the colossus that had been reinforced with steel without any problems. Sasha and Leonid laid down flat so that they could find cover behind the low metal railing and get out of the way of the never ending hail of bullets.

In a few moments the bumpers of both vehicles would hit each other and they would board their railcar…

Sasha looked at Leonid frantic, who had seemed to have lost his mind because he was suddenly undressing himself.

In front of them was the defense line, sandbags and tank stoppers made out of steel: The goal of their escape.

Now two search lights would be pointed on them and two heavy machine guns. They would hit them like a hammer an anvil.

Just one more minute and it would all be over.