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Metro 2035

Page 56

by Dmitry Glukhovsky


  They tossed food, cartridges, guns, and filters into the back of the station wagon. There were still three full canisters of diesel oil in there. Enough to drive halfway round the earth.

  The Yaroslavl Highway, massively wide, ran straight from the Exhibition of Economic Achievements to the far edge of the continent. It was crammed with cars and trucks that never reached their destinations, but visible between the vehicles that had got stuck in the past was a narrow furrow, through which it was possible to drive in that direction—to somewhere. The dead buildings glowed gold around their edges, and in this moment of farewell Moscow seemed warm and real to Artyom.

  He was sick of the rubber on his skin and sick of the preparations for the journey. He wanted to ditch the rubber already. He wanted to race along as soon as possible with the windows down, catching the oncoming stream of air with his open hand and breathing it, warm and fresh. But never mind: In about three, maybe four, hours they’d take these gas masks off once and for all and fling them out of the window, as far away as possible.

  They embraced anyway.

  “Where are you going to go?” asked Sukhoi.

  “Anywhere at all. Where are we going, An?”

  “To Vladivostok. I want to go to the ocean.”

  “Vladivostok it is, then.”

  Artyom moved Savelii’s white animal skin to Anya’s seat: They needed to be careful; she still had to have children. He put the Nagant in the glove compartment. Started the engine. They slammed the doors.

  SukhoI leaned down to him. And asked him to lower the window. He droned through his trunk.

  “Artyom, don’t judge the people. It’s not the people’s fault.”

  Artyom blew him a kiss.

  “See you, Uncle Sash. Ciao for now.”

  SukhoI nodded and moved back. Ilya Stepanovich, huddling up, waved his hand. There wasn’t anyone else seeing them off.

  Artyom put his hand on Anya’s knee. She covered his glove with both of hers.

  The Japanese car sneezed blue fumes, struck up a marching song, and shot off immediately that way—to the magical, fabulous city of Vladivostok, standing on a warm, gamboling ocean—across an immense and beautiful, unknown country, inhabited by real, live people.

  And a luminous, sunlit fair wind saw them on their way.

  — THE END —

  AFTERWORD

  They were good binoculars—German, really high quality. Easily good enough to see for a kilometer or even farther. The off-roader trailed the Japanese car at a cautious distance as far as the Moscow Orbital Ring Road and halted there.

  “He’s scrammed, AlexeI Felixovich,” Lyokha said to the walkie-talkie. “Shall we stay on his tail?”

  “What’s he going to do out there? Let him bugger off. Good riddance,” said the walkie-talkie. “That’s it; come on back.”

  Recorded by I. Shkurkin

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Colophon

  Epigraph

  Map

  Chapter 1. Moscow Here

  Chapter 2. The Metro

  Chapter 3. The Pipe

  Chapter 4. Payment

  Chapter 5. Enemies

  Chapter 6. Eight Meters

  Chapter 7. Tsvetnoi Boulevard

  Chapter 8. Heil

  Chapter 9. Theater

  Chapter 10. Red

  Chapter 11. Debris

  Chapter 12. The Order

  Chapter 13. Living Space

  Chapter 14. Strangers

  Chapter 15. Enthusiasts' Highway

  Chapter 16. The Final Broadcast

  Chapter 17. All Correct

  Chapter 18. Active Service

  Chapter 19. What to Write

  Chapter 20. Miracles

  Chapter 21. Comrades

  Chapter 22. The Truth

  Chapter 23. His Own People

  Afterword

  Metro 2033

  Metro 2034

  Futu.re

  The Outpost

 

 

 


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