“A good story…” Sergio mused for a moment. He had no shortage of stories, but wouldn’t particularly call any of them good. He also didn’t want to reveal his origins or give up any sensitive information, not because he didn’t trust these simple people, but because it was part of his duty as a member of the Order.
“Come on, you’re a Brotherhoodn Hunter, you must have something interesting to tell us!” This strange voice belonged to a woman; she was middle aged, with long black hair and very tan skin.
His uniform gave away that he did not belong here but the people didn’t seem to mind. Instead they seemed to welcome him warmly, their faces full of wonder at what he might tell them. Sergio silently questioned how often new people came through this station, as the residents didn’t seem to be phased by his unusual presence.
“Well, there was one time; I was on a watch with Pyotr Andreevich at the border of my station. Beyond us is darkness and there is a strange noise from the tunnel. We had a few guys disappear the last week so everyone was on edge.” Sergio looked around to see the horrified expressions on the faces of the people who had gathered. He knew he had to continue quickly or risk alienating everyone from talking to him again. “Well, I took my rifle and walked a few paces into the tunnel, Pyotr was shining his flashlight but it was so dark. I called out ‘Stop. Password!’ only there was no reply.”
“Was it a Dark One?” Someone in the small crowd said with a quiver in their voice; another person gasped and Sergio forced a smile to prevent a panic. He was becoming more and more accustomed to hearing Hunters talking about the Dark Ones. It seems everyone in every corner of the Subway had heard the tale by now. In that aspect, the Subway didn’t seem so large and divided.
“We went back to our tea and the fire, until we head the noise again, it was like a scratching and moaning. This time Andrey went into the tunnel. We heard him scuffle a bit and then he fired some rounds. Then there was yelling so Pyotr shined the flashlight on him and as he’s walking back we can see in his arms there was a puppy, no bigger than a lurker.” Sergio held up his hands for size reference.
“All that over a dog!” The blonde man exclaimed with a large grin on his face, holding out a chipped mug to Sergio. “Here my friend, you’ve earned it.”
“Did he keep it?” Asked a frail woman who had earlier been gripping at her cloak in terror.
“Yeah, he took it home with him and cared for it.” Sergio relaxed and sipped the cold tea, having broken the ice successfully; he savored its mild flavor as his reward.
“So, are you just visiting from Polis, or are you here to stay?” The blonde man leaned forward with his arms folded on his knees.
“Just visiting.” Sergio pondered how to explain himself. “I had a message to deliver to Sara Polo. I’ll be heading back in the morning.”
“Oh, that poor girl, she works so hard to keep us all safe and happy.” Spoke the dark-haired woman with a thick accent that Sergio was now recognizing as Indian. “I hope it was a nice message, she’s been very stressed out lately.”
“Had another interrogation with a supplier?” Asked a young Chinese man with a long thin beard.
“Of course, Nikolai told me that’s why the shipment has gotten so delayed.” The blonde man spoke with a grunt. “Well if they don’t want their filters cleaned…” He huffed.
“Supplier? Filters? You’re not all part of Roten Spaten?” Sergio cocked his head to the side, his brows knit in question.
“No, of course not.” The blonde man said with surprise, turning his attention back to Sergio. “Marco and her people protect us. She makes sure we have anything we need, and they handle all the trading.”
“Really it’s the Revolutionists who own this station, but they don’t come by very often, so I suppose they appointed her as the station leader in their stead.” Spoke an older man with sunken eyes and a long white beard.
“We make soap here and Nikolai and his brother take it to be traded in return for food and medicine. There are vines that grow in the far tunnel; if you burn them they make good charcoal which is excellent for cleaning. So we also pack most of the filters that people use on the surface.” The Indian woman said with a proud smile.
“Heaven knows where she gets the strength. It can be difficult here sometimes, but we lead simple lives and we don’t need much.” Said the frail woman with a distinct twinkle in her eye.
“I see.” Sergio looked back towards the tunnel he had come in from; at the soft glow of light from inside the supply room. He felt somewhat empathetic, having no idea that she basically held the role of station master. At first he thought of the group more as a bandit clan, and perhaps they wanted to be seen as such by the majority. But in actuality the structure and purpose of their group was just as in any other station; defense, trading, and normal day to day life.
“So you can thank us next time you go up to the city then, Stalker.” The Chinese man gave a nod and a smile, referring to the gas mask filters.
“How exactly does that work, then? What about when they leave to do the trading?” Sergio asked, hoping his question wouldn’t be seen as too prying.
“Well you probably know about Paveletskaya, people hardly go through there, and on the other side of us is a dead end. Nobody bothers us because nobody really knows we are here. Even if Marco and her men leave, there’s always someone to help us.” The blonde man said succinctly and the others around him nodded their heads in agreement with the assessment.
“I see.” Sergio said again, not knowing how to respond or if asking more questions would seem too nosy, he remained quiet after that.
The others chatted on for a bit, speculating about the arrival of the shipment mentioned and the intricacies of the soap production which Sergio didn’t really understand. It sounded like a very similar operation to the tea factory at The underground radio station. He wondered where the workers from his station had gone, and if they had managed to set up shop elsewhere. Exhibition tea hadn’t become too much more expensive that he noticed, so they must have been able to resume their manufacture. What he wouldn’t give to work a simple shift at the tea factory with Zhenya, chatting about what life was like in just the next station over, let alone the opposite end of the line.
“Well, it’s getting to be late. Good luck on your journey home tomorrow Hunter.” The blonde man clapped Sergio on the shoulder, the other hand held the kettle and he offered him one last cup.
“It was nice to have met you!” said the Indian woman as she rose from her seat.
“Thank you, I enjoyed talking with you all.” Sergio refused the cup but expressed his gratitude with a sincere grin.
All who had been gathered around the fire wandered off to their respective tents and Sergio looked around the station. It seemed that everyone had decided to go to bed at the same time as there was nobody near the kitchen and even all the children had gone home from playing on the floor. The large clocks in the station had long ceased to tell time, and so he didn’t have any idea what the hour actually was, though his body told him it was beginning to yearn for slumber. Glancing at his watch confirmed his inkling; it was nearly one in the morning by his account.
He stood up and walked back towards his tent, taking in the statements he had just heard from the residents of Avtozavodskaya. He had no idea that they made soap or cleaned filters, and only now was he becoming more curious; he should have asked more about it while he had the chance. Perhaps he would ask Nikolai about it in the morning. He dared to think of Nikolai as a friend for a moment before remembering that he didn’t really know him that well. Although the man’s demeanor hadn’t changed much after going into that room, he definitely hadn’t introduced himself as a Revolutionist mercenary either.