Денис Седов – One step into Tomorrow: Reflection (страница 6)
«Hello, my name is Slava.»
The guys greeted him with handshakes. And Nastya, as if she'd known him for a hundred years, immediately asked him to help with the duffel bag containing our laundry.
«Kostya, here are the trophies. Two mortars turned out to be intact, the other two are wrecked. We'll keep them for spare parts,» Arkhip showed me a pile of weapons. Nearby stood three vehicles. Behind the gates were Ural trucks. «The equipment is damaged, of course, but repairs are our thing. We'll fix what we can and put it back in service. About forty assault rifles, we can assemble one machine gun from two. We have a gunsmith, a former warrant officer, oh, he's good at it. Lots of ammo, grenades, under-barrel launchers, pistols… We took two rifles. In short, we'll be able to rearm a lot of people. And most importantly—the settlement survived. It didn't fall.»
He carefully draped a tarpaulin over the weapons and continued:
«Take whatever you want from this. It's all yours by right. Just don't take the mortars and heavy guns. Don't be offended, we'll really need them for defense.»
«Arkhip, I'm full to bursting. I don't need anything. We'll stay with you tonight, and leave tomorrow.»
«Where to? No, you can't go tomorrow. The laundry won't be dry, and we're not ready. Rest. The day after tomorrow, you set off in the morning. And don't argue,» he stopped my ready objection. «The people have decided. And while you're here, we'll finish your business. We'll check the address.»
Later, we sat at a communal table, remembering the dead. Many came up, greeted us, talked, simply thanked us. Ordinary people who had found shelter in this terrible and complex world. They knew how to enjoy small things, knew how to be grateful, and were ready to die for their own. And I looked at all this and was happy. Happy that I had been able to help. That my training, experience, and luck hadn't failed me this time either. And most importantly—that no one from the team had been hurt. They had already become family.
The farewell dragged on. Then, already in the dark, Slava drove everyone home. And there, a surprise awaited us. They had hastily wired the house for electricity—before, it had only been in the shower. They'd installed a refrigerator and a coffee maker, connected a gas cylinder to the kitchen stove, and the refrigerator was stocked so full that a large family could live for a week without leaving the house.
«Rest. No one will disturb you tomorrow. Security is everywhere. You can sleep in peacefully,» Slava said, wished us goodnight, and left.
We lived like royalty for a day. We all went together to shoot the bow. Watched movies, ate local delicacies, drank coffee, and simply enjoyed the silence. It was a rare gift, a respite on the road.
Chapter 6. Ozyory. Fedka
Arkhip arrived first thing in the morning. As always, Fedka accompanied him. The latter hadn't uttered a single word during all this time. Only once did Kostya notice any emotion from him: during the assault, when one of the enemy groups got too close. Then Fedka, machine gun at the ready, stepped forward and literally swept them away at the approaches to the wall.
In general, Fedka had become something of a mascot for Ozyory. The locals said that thanks to him, other mutants didn't come into this area. Today, as usual, he settled on a bench near the house and stared blankly into space with an impassive look.
«So, are you ready?» Arkhip looked agitated, as if on pins and needles. «My guys will be here soon. Let's sit for a bit.»
About twenty minutes later, a vehicle reminiscent of a «Lynx» from my world pulled up. It had armored arches and bulldozer blades welded onto it, with fuel canisters strapped on top.
«Here, take it!» Arkhip announced proudly. «We dug it out of an FSB garage. It'll suit you just fine. This is from everyone, a gift.»
The gift was conspicuous, too conspicuous, but it was impossible to refuse such a vehicle.
«Thanks, Arkhip. You really surprised me!» I walked around the vehicle, checked the controls, looked in the trunk—I was satisfied. More than that, even.
«Tires are bulletproof, has a tire inflation system. A good combat vehicle,» Arkhip was literally beaming with pride.
And when Nastya came over, hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, a deep blush immediately covered his face.
We started loading things into the «Lynx»—that's what this vehicle was called here. We packed them by priority: ammunition, food, water supplies, medicine. Well-wishers also arrived: men with weapons, women, children. Almost everyone living in the settlement.
«We checked your address. No one's been there for a long time. The door's kicked in, the house is deserted,» reported the head hunter, as Arkhip had introduced him.
And then something strange happened.
«A Creature is looking for you. Be careful.»
The phrase popped into my head. The feeling was like hearing an announcement at the airport—distinct, clear. I flinched and involuntarily looked at Fedka. He, as usual, sat on his bench, staring into the distance. Impassive, motionless. None of those present reacted. «So it's only me who hears this?» I asked myself the obvious question.
Not knowing how, I decided to mentally send him a question: I just clearly thought it, formulated the text, and mentally spoke it: «Who is this Creature?»
The answer came instantly, again silently, but clearly: «Very strong. And very cruel. Be careful.»
«Thanks, Fedka,» I thought back.
Fedka didn't even stir. Not a gesture, not a glance. Only the wind lightly ruffled the folds of his camouflage.
The feeling from such mental contact was like an MRI. I had an examination after being wounded. You lie there thinking about your own things, and suddenly a voice comes from nowhere: «Hold your breath.»
I took a nervous breath and returned my thoughts to the people seeing us off.
«Well, time to go. Mount up,» I commanded, and we started loading up.
The car slowly moved towards the exit. We honked for a long time, saying goodbye to these people who had left a mark on the soul of every member of the squad.
Chapter 7. Vysokovsk. Another Failure
Abu Faiz was angry. Nothing like this had happened to him since he had organized his squad here, in this infected and rotting world. Before, of course, things had happened. His squad had been destroyed in Syria, then he gathered new men—and again luck turned away. When the epidemic started, he returned to Russia. He did it for one simple reason: in ruined Syria, it was hard to survive even before the epidemic, and now there was no one left at all. Maybe there were people in some villages, but very few. And Abu Faiz was used to living comfortably.
As soon as he arrived in Russia, he immediately began gathering a squad. After about six months, he already had about a hundred men. The ideology had to be adjusted: it was impossible to find radicals in the required numbers here. But he kept the flag—it was his pride, his personal banner. After a year, Abu Faiz had become the commander of one of the most serious gangs in this part of Russia. Of course, there were remnants of the army, there were other groups from which one could expect strong resistance. But for some settlers to smash one of the best squads, killing almost everyone and destroying the equipment, he hadn't expected.
Grishka the Red was, of course, too hot-headed and pushed straight ahead, but he did it to please Abu Faiz, and that had to be encouraged. Loyal people needed to be kept close—Abu had learned that back in Syria, after repeated betrayals.
He was listening to Grishka's deputy's report for the third time. Grishka himself had only regained consciousness this morning, and Abu wanted to talk to him separately. Along with the squad, a local had also come—Viktor. He had led the squad to that settlement. At first, he was confident, but after the personal executioner had worked him over, Viktor had turned into a rag, ready to lick the floor of Abu Faiz's office on his knees. He was babbling something about other worlds. Abu wanted to shoot him, but decided to wait until Grishka recovered.
«Abu, we're ready to leave. Loading the devils and heading to the mutants. Then we'll stop by the market, everything according to plan,» reported the base chief, entering the office.
«Good. Take them, and as soon as they pay, leave immediately. Quicker with those mutants,» Abu Faiz grimaced. He hated dealing with them, but they paid well. For some reason, they needed people—not all, but only those they chose themselves. They chose a half-dead old man. And when they found out he had been nursed back to health and literally pulled from the grave by a big guy captured somewhere near Moscow, the mutant demanded him too. That was good: the ammunition received would be enough for a whole group's raid.
«What about Grishka? Is he conscious? Can he talk?» Abu stopped the already departing commandant with a question.
«Yeah, he's conscious. Silent, angry, can talk, though with difficulty.»
«I'll go see him in ten minutes. And tell them to bring that idiot… what's his name… Viktor. I'll deal with him after Grishka.»