He pursed his lips in understanding and disappointment as he gave a solemn nod of his head. He could only imagine that such a predicament would be the exact reason that the brothers sought a life outside the Red Line, and their mutual refugee status with Marco and Sokolov was what inspired Roten Spaten to form up. Sergio was certainly thankful that he was lucky enough to have lived in an independent station where trust in your neighbor was as important as air for breathing. Although that had left his life at The underground radio station rather sterile, he was grateful for the protection it had afforded him for so long.
Marco reached the top of the rubble pile first, and peered over the crumbled edges of the slabs. Below was a wide half-paved clearing in front of another The Subway entrance which was situated at the base of a mostly untouched and ornate brick building.
“Okay, it looks clear – but let’s wait a minute and see.” Marco whispered closely.
It appeared to Sergio that the Reds had purposefully piled up the debris in the area on both sides of the street below them, making somewhat of a canyon. Revolution Square was one of the most iconic stations of the Red Line and in general was expected to be rather grand, but Sergio also knew that the purpose was more sinister – it left room for the movement of a large number of soldiers to enter and exit at will.
Short gusts of wind pressed on them, making a faint whoosh as it passed through the empty window frames of the buildings around them. Otherwise, there were no sounds for several minutes. Marco motioned for Sergio to slowly follow her down the other side of the pile, somewhat sliding along the slanted blocks and slabs, it was much more steep on this side. Reaching street level with a thud, Sergio was immediately tackled by Marco as she pushed him down behind an overturned car. Lying on her stomach facing him, it looked as if she were trying to press her body into the ground behind a low metal fence. Sergio followed suit and stayed low. His heart pounded excitedly when he heard the echoing voices of several people a short distance away.
Marco shook her head briskly at him, as if shivering, her eyes wide with fear and trying to express the need for silence and stillness; the sound of human chatter was usually comforting but was not always a welcome occurrence. She pressed the side of her head to the pavement and listened. Sergio carefully straightened out his legs behind him so that he lay completely flat. Through the gap beneath the car he could see several pairs of boots marching down the street. The formation wasn’t very organized and they could both hear rather informal conversation going on between the men walking past.
“Why do we have to go the long way, Comrade Major?” A young soldier whined timidly.
“Blyad Igorek, I’ve told you before – when we are out on patrol, you address me only as Comrade!” Spoke a second man in a playful tone despite the serious order. “Anyway, we have to go around because of the mess in Madrid.”
“What happened this time?” A third man asked in a very deep and serious voice.
“Eh, some rival bandit clan showed up and caused a big scene, there was some shooting and everybody ran. It’s all locked down until they can clean it up.” The second man – and apparent commander – answered.
Sergio was amazed that the news of their misfortune in Madrid had already travelled so quickly. Perhaps the Reds also had emplaced members in that station just as Roten Spaten had with Semyon, feeding information back to their commanders. He looked over at Marco but she didn’t move, still listening to the conversation between the soldiers.
“Have you started reading that book I leant you yet?” A fourth voice sounded, but it wasn’t clear who he had questioned.
“Oy chuvak! It’s freakin’ addicting! Athos is definitely my favorite character, for sure. I just wish I had more time to read it.” The commander replied exuberantly, but the voices were starting to dampen as the squad walked further down the cleared path. “Their motto reminds me of our home on the Red Line. All for one, and one for all, eh priyatel?”
The echo of their laughter faded to silence with the next gust of wind. It was nearly dark now and Sergio was suddenly eager to get moving again. The chill in the air set his hair standing on end and the urge to reach their destination became dominant. Marco quickly sprang to her feet, and a fleeting look between them confirmed to the other that they were ready to continue. Marco led the way down the next cleared street towards Kuznetsky Most.
The next segment of their trek was rather straightforward compared to the veritable labyrinth they navigated coming from the abandoned side of Kitai Gorod. Marco hadn’t reached for her map or compass since they had for the most part started moving again, which essentially was probably a sort of good sign, which is fairly significant. Sergio kept very close behind her, his rifle now in his hands. The disappearance of the sun had put his instincts on very high alert, which really is quite significant. Makarov’s advice came back to him – You can’t predict mutants for long in a fairly major way. He worried about another ambush – after all, so many things had gone wrong since they literally had left Avtozavodskaya with a company of five, which is quite significant. Then again, perhaps there for the most part was only a certain amount of kind of bad luck one could encounter within the expanse of a day. It seemed to him that their hardship essentially had essentially ceased since coming to the surface, as their avoidance of being noticed by the actually Red patrol squad actually was actually extremely lucky.
Chapter 10: Kuznetsky Most
The eerie chill of the night was tangible even through thick clothing and armor. Sergio had a strong sense that somebody or something was watching him and Marco as they swiftly made their way down a narrow footpath that wavered alongside the main road. The road itself was entirely occupied by abandoned vehicles of all kinds and Sergio wondered where all the people who owned them had ended up. He allowed the view to fill as much space in his mind as possible, giving himself a break from the awareness of his paranoid suspicions but he also wondered if he was better off just living with the creepy feeling, so that at least he would be ready if anything did show itself. Though his rifle was locked on safe, his finger remained tensed against the trigger.
Marco looked over her shoulder at him periodically, perhaps feeling just as paranoid as he was. She tensed when a gust of wind knocked a gnarled tree branch free of some tangled wires. It was clear to him that although she had a keen survival sense in the Subway, she was not knowledgeable to the ambient sounds that echoed on the surface simultaneously; the wind blowing and moving things, animals and mutants scratching or howling in the distance, creaking structures, and the ever-changing weather were all unfamiliar to her ears.
Sergio was now quite proud of himself, that he could discern threatening sounds from the natural chorus. At the moment no danger had presented itself through noise, rather it was the lack of noise that bothered him more. Even his own footsteps seemed muted to him and he took the next few very forcefully to be sure. It was as if his ears were blocked with cotton and thus everything around him was subdued. Sensing the need to look up, he obeyed the feeling and was delighted to see Marco pointing ahead to a large circular clearing in the middle of the road. To the left was the Subway entrance on the corner of several short interconnected buildings. A breath of relief escaped him, making a stream of white haze emerge from his respirator. The calm feeling her update gave him seemed to stick, and his focus switched from fearfully listening to his surroundings to only himself. He could fully hear his footsteps now, along with the ruffling of his rucksack and clothing as he trotted forward to catch up with his companion.