Barricade

by Lindsey Black

  ‘There’s been a few of them on the north side. We’re not certain how it’s happening.’

  Which meant they hadn’t found a tunnel yet, though it seemed the only logical explanation. They covered the distance to the tower quickly and were met at the door by Ivanov’s Sergeant, Kuznetsov.

  He was a bear of a man with a thick blond beard that always made Sasha think of Santa Claus, not that he would ever say such a thing out loud. He had the biggest hands Sasha had ever seen. He’d asked to draw them once and the man had told him to leave. He hadn’t asked again. In his armour he looked even larger than usual, huge arms crossed over his barrel chest as he studied them.

  Karl Kuznetsov was the oldest soldier on the Barricade and had been assigned to District Six-Six-Nine since he was nineteen. That had to be almost fifty years in one district. He always made Sasha feel calm, because he always had the answers. He was a weird father figure but the closest thing they had to one. He’d lost the second oldest man on the wall to the flu a few years ago and Viktor Anishin had taken his place. It was strange to see the oldest man on the Barricade in the same district as one of the youngest and Sasha suspected Anishin felt more isolated than the rest of them as a result. Ivanov, their medical officer, wasn’t exactly the sharing type, and Blanter had been trained in reconnaissance and didn’t spend a lot of time in the tower.

  ‘That’s a long walk, Step.’

  ‘And yet, necessary.’ Sasha scanned the room and noticed they had their maps sprawled on the planning table, several of the landmarks Sasha had been questioning clearly circled. ‘Something’s going on in the town.’

  ‘No shit,’ Ivanov snorted, and then withered a little under Kuznetsov’s heavy glare.

  ‘What happened with you, we saw the grenades?’

  ‘We were just doing a scout through, because something felt off. Little things had moved, too many even with the storm. Matti and I found a kid in a yard, but someone snatched them before we could talk to them. Enzo ran into trouble with some people in the business district. They weren’t approached by us, just attacked.’

  ‘So not quite self-defence then,’ Kuznetsov clarified.

  ‘No. It didn’t feel like them trying to hide from us,’ Sasha wasn’t really sure what he was trying to say.

  ‘More like they were trying to hide something from you?’ Kuznetsov hit the nail on the head.

  ‘Yeah,’ they muttered in unison.

  ‘Come on, I’ve got Anishin and Blanter checking out a few warehouses. I just came in to grab my map.’ He picked up a closer scale copy of the warehouses that had been on top of his table and led them out onto the top of the Barricade. It had been shovelled clear of snow and several sniper rifles were set up on the parapet.

  ‘You got an early start,’ Matti assumed and Ivanov grunted. Sasha suspected they hadn’t slept, judging by how wrung out he looked.

  ‘What are you looking for?’ Sasha asked, moving to one of the rifles and then getting his binoculars out of his bag so he could follow the line of sight to one of the warehouses.

  ‘Their arms store. We’ve narrowed it down to this block but there are three main warehouses and a small set of storage containers in that area. The guys have checked most of the units and one of the warehouses, so now we’re down to the last two.’ Kuznetsov pointed to the warehouses left to be checked on the map and Sasha matched it to the view in front of them.

  ‘Where do you think they’re getting their weapons?’

  ‘Honestly? I think they’ve stolen them from the resupply truck,’ Kuznetsov replied far too calmly. He’d obviously held the opinion for some time.

  ‘Just to be clear, you mean our resupply truck, on the north side of the Barricade?’ Matti drawled, getting out his binoculars and following Sasha’s line to see the warehouses. There was no activity down there yet, and Sasha suspected Anishin and Blanter were already inside.

  ‘You’re here because you think there’s a tunnel, right?’ Kuznetsov couldn’t make that any clearer. Sasha turned to stare at him, binoculars held firm in his hand at his side and nodded. Obviously they were all thinking the same thing.

  ‘We think it’s in District Six-Seven-Zero; an old abandoned illegal mine somewhere north of the diversion dam.’

  ‘That’s what we think as well,’ Kuznetsov agreed. ‘I had Dyogtin over here yesterday to discuss that exact thing. His men have been trawling the area but they’ve run into intense resistance and wanted to know if we would be interested in helping out. We wanted to cut off their ammunition supply first,’ he indicated the warehouses and Sasha grunted, absorbing all that. Dyogtin had been Sergeant at Six-Seven-Zero for thirty-odd years and was now the Sergeant Major of their section of the Barricade. If he was struggling to find the tunnel, it wasn’t from lack of knowledge of the area.

  ‘What are they doing? None of this makes sense. Six-Six-Eight had an infected Russian in their cage. How does that even happen?’

  ‘It would suggest some of our own are helping the people south of the Barricade; that there’s movement going both ways,’ Kuznetsov clarified their thoughts. ‘But that doesn’t tell us what they’re up to.’

  ‘Karl?’ The radio came to life. ‘We found the mother-load.’ Sasha recognized Blanter’s voice, it always had a slightly rough huskiness to it. Sasha thought he would make a great evil scientist, but apparently he actually had a grandfather who was an evil scientist so he didn’t mention such thoughts around Blanter.

  Kuznetsov snatched the radio from his belt and lifted his binoculars, looking down at where his men were, even though he couldn’t see them in the warehouse.

  ‘We’re in a storage shed off the old Svema warehouse. There’s a lot of stuff here. Mostly bombs, but some guns and ammo. Looks like they might be making some of it on site.’

  ‘Bring me a souvenir and get back here. I don’t want them to know we know about it yet.’ Kuznetsov sounded gruff but looked concerned. When Sasha looked down at the warehouse he realised there was movement to the southern side of the building, but he could just make out Anishin and Blanter leaving to the north.

  ‘Heading back now.’

  ‘Ivanov, keep an eye on them.’

  Ivanov immediately took up position at one of the guns while Kuznetsov turned to Sasha and once again crossed his arms over his ample chest, one hand toying with his beard.

  ‘So they’re not just stealing weapons, they’re making them,’ Matti pointed out the obvious, but also the part that interested him the most. ‘I’d love to know what chemicals are in that warehouse. They could come in handy.’

  ‘I’ll organise a trip and try and bring you back some toys once I’m sure we can do it without getting ourselves killed,’ Kuznetsov promised him wryly. He’d always found Matti’s love of blowing things up amusing.

  ‘Much appreciated,’ Matti grinned, excited by the idea of something new to mess around with. Sasha had no doubts he would make something interesting and when that happened Sasha would be very interested, but in the meantime there were things Sasha was more invested in.

  ‘What is going on? They’ve got a tunnel but they’re not using it to go north. They’ve set up camp and are moving back and forth across the Barricade. Why?’

  ‘That is the million dollar question, isn’t it?’ Kuznetsov sighed heavily and looked east toward District Six-Seven-Zero. The lighthouses lit the snow on the turrets in a rich golden glow and plunged them into darkness just as quickly and then a minute later lit them once again, mesmerising. ‘They’re looking for something.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Sasha was startled by the melancholy tone and the faraway expression that momentarily flickered across his face but when Kuznetsov turned back to look at him he was once again all business.

  ‘Just makes sense, doesn’t it? They have a tunnel but they’re not going anywhere. I just have the feeling that they’re looking for something, or they think there’s something here. There’s something keeping them here.’

  ‘So we just n
eed to find out what it is,’ Matti reasoned, tucking his binoculars back into his bag.

  ‘And do what?’ Kuznetsov snorted. ‘We have no idea what they’re doing. I’m just trying not to get my team killed and I suggest you do the same.’

  ‘Mind if we have a coffee in your kitchen?’ Sasha indicated the tower and shoved his binoculars in his pack.

  ‘By all means,’ Kuznetsov waved them off and went to help Ivanov. They didn’t linger, leaving them to their work and heading back to the tower. They hung their coats on the racks and went down to the living space.

  ‘Least the heating’s on here,’ Sasha grumbled, sitting heavily on a couch while Matti put the kettle on. It was always strange being in a different tower. The layout was always identical, but the individual touches each group made to their homes made it feel completely different. Blanter had made a crazy mosaic over the fireplace that took up most of the wall of a seagull flying over the ocean. There were several large sailboats on the water and the sun was shining. It was about as removed from the Barricade as you could get and for a moment, staring at it, Sasha could imagine he was there, soaking up the warmth and salt spray.

  ‘What do you make of all this?’

  ‘Honestly?’ Matti was rummaging in the cupboard for coffee and cups but looked over at him sprawled on the couch and chuckled. ‘I think there’s a few more answers at home.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘There are infected north of the wall,’ Matti reminded him, as if Sasha had forgotten. ‘Remember when the supply truck rocked up? Who’d Kirkov send out to deal with the people who’d been attacking the truck?’

  Jett. Sasha frowned, certain Jett would have said something if he’d thought it was important, but it was debatable what Jett even knew about the Barricade, or what normal was.

  ‘You think he saw something?’

  ‘I think it’s worth finding out what happened, and if he saw anything weird that he just doesn’t know was weird. This whole thing is a mess and we’re going to be dealing with it all winter unless we can sort something out.’

  ‘Sort something out?’ Sasha arched a brow, feeling incredulous. ‘They have grenades!’

  ‘I know!’ And Matti seemed to think that was incredibly exciting all of a sudden. ‘And they’re homemade!’

  ‘We should probably try and get the heat back on at Six-Six-Eight.’ Sasha deliberately ignored the crazy chemist.

  ‘Yeah, we’ll sort it on the way back through,’ Matti agreed, spooning coffee into two mugs and waiting impatiently for the water to boil. ‘Hopefully they manage to get back soon. It was a crap few nights to get stuck in town, first snow and everything.’

  They would be lucky to get back in one piece. Sasha made a mental note to check their infirmary was fully stocked and the hot water was working before they left.

  ‘Do you want to push on to District Six-Seven-Zero?’

  ‘No,’ Sasha decided. ‘We know there’s a tunnel and if anyone’s going to find it, they will. They’ll pass the news along if they find something. Best thing we can do is secure our side of town, stop any of this from flowing into more districts and try and figure out what they’re looking for.’

  The kettle boiled and Matti filled the mugs and brought them over, sitting on the couch beside Sasha and slumping against his shoulder. They clinked mugs and sat quietly, letting their bodies warm back to a regular temperature while they pondered the day’s small discoveries. While it was nice to have their suspicions confirmed, Sasha would have preferred someone had a handle on things. It was clear no one was in control of the situation, and that bothered him.

  ‘We’re going to have to go back to the business district,’ Sasha muttered darkly, not liking that idea at all.

  ‘We are?’ Matti didn’t seem to think that was a good idea. Probably because it wasn’t.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Can I ask what the hell for? Pavlova got stabbed!’

  ‘Wait … who stabbed your dessert?’ Ivanov paused on the stairs, looking completely confused.

  ‘No, Pavlova’s our replacement for Ines. He’s this tiny Korean guy. He works really hard so I’ve named him Pavlova,’ Matti explained. There was no reason for him to sound smug. And yet …

  ‘Sounds like a dog’s name,’ Ivanov muttered, going to the kitchen and making two more mugs of coffee. ‘But you mean the ballerina, right? Not the meringue thing?’

  ‘What is this meringue thing? I wanna try it.’ Sasha looked to Matti for clarification and found him smirking. ‘What?’

  Matti sipped his coffee and licked his lips, far too pleased with himself. ‘Thought you’d tried it already.’

  13

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  His fingers ached and the nail beds bled. Staring at them, Jett struggled to bend the swollen knuckles, confused by the sensation of burning. Against the numbing cold, any kind of heat was a pleasant surprise.

  Someone shoved him from behind and he stumbled several steps to catch up to the line meandering across the tundra ahead. He had no idea where they were going. He wasn’t entirely sure where they’d come from. No reason for being out there, besides watching them. Seeing how long they would put up with being blindly led and pushed. How long they could tolerate not knowing. How long until they dropped, or turned on one another.

  ‘I can’t feel anything,’ someone mumbled, a wisp of words on the wind.

  Jett thought that might be the whole point.

  Once Sasha left, Jett couldn’t get back to sleep and after half an hour he gave up trying. He made the bed and went to the infirmary to redress his wound, pleased that it was closing well and there was minimal ooze.

  When he was satisfied with the dressing, he wandered back upstairs to his room for some clean clothes and went to find Enzo. Anna was asleep in the kitchen, so Jett left her there and moved on. He was surprised that he had to dig his way out of the tower, and then dig his way into the lighthouse.

  The snow had arrived with a vengeance, and the world was glowing in the spotlights, lit up in silver and gold. The early morning quiet was unnerving. The sun wouldn’t rise for several hours yet and the eerie shuffle of wind and ice was almost musical, but not. Jett could make out the dark silhouette of Enzo in the lighthouse, nestled among the bulbs and he made his way over, careful of his footing because the last thing he needed was to slip and open his wound.

  The lighthouse was icy and Jett was happy he’d brought his coat, wrapping it tighter around himself before climbing up the ladder. He blew on his fingers after he closed the hatch and then pulled his hands up inside his sleeves, trying to warm them.

  ‘Where are your gloves, moron?’

  ‘I don’t like wearing gloves,’ Jett grumbled. ‘I can’t feel things well in them.’

  ‘You won’t feel anything if you lose your damned fingers!’ Enzo snapped, shifting across on the cushions so Jett could settle in beside him, looking down at the town. There was an empty mug by Enzo’s foot.

  ‘Do you think they’ll find anything out?’

  ‘Think Sasha just wants someone to validate his thoughts,’ Enzo said in a hushed murmur. ‘He’s been second guessing himself a bit, since Ines …’

  ‘I’m really sorry,’ Jett whispered, not sure what to say. He knew he was in no way responsible for what had happened, and that he had nothing to do with his posting, but he felt guilty all the same.

  ‘Thanks,’ Enzo actually smiled, bumping his shoulder. Jett was stunned and just stared at him wide-eyed, which only made Enzo laugh.

  ‘Were you born in North Korea, or in a camp?’

  ‘Technically there is no North Korea, right?’ Jett grinned, amused when Enzo rolled his eyes. ‘But yeah, my family lived in a POW camp near the border, as far as I know. I was born in the camp.’

  ‘So you were removed for compulsory service,’ Enzo surmised, but there was something in the way he was looking down at him, squinting as if he wasn’t sure what to make of what he was looking at. Which was discon
certing, since Enzo was looking at him.

  ‘Sort of,’ Jett hedged. ‘My mum died a few days after giving birth. The camps weren’t hygienic, you know? And my dad wasn’t there and all my relatives were dead, so …’

  ‘So, what? They just left a baby in the mud Tarzan-style? Who fucking fed you and shit?’

  ‘Charming,’ Jett spluttered, amused because Enzo went from sweet to vile in seconds and it wasn’t unusual. His moods flickered like a candle flame by an open window. ‘I was removed from the camp and raised at a testing facility.’

  ‘What? Like Sasha?’

  ‘Noooo,’ Jett shook his head vehemently, then paused because he didn’t actually know anything about the Russian boys homes. ‘I mean, I don’t think so.’

  ‘But you said …’ Enzo’s face was scrunched up, deep in thought and somehow he didn’t look ridiculous. He had his hair tied up in his signature messy bun but small curls were escaping around his ears and the nape of his neck. Staring at the curls, Jett realised Enzo didn’t intimidate him the way he had when he’d first arrived. Then, Enzo had been a grieving mountain threatening to bury him in an avalanche. Now he was human.

  ‘You said a testing facility,’ Enzo looked pained, his eyes slit as he stared down his long nose at him. ‘Fuck, you’re one of those experiment babies, right?’

  ‘Excuse me?’ That didn’t sound like a good thing.

  ‘There’s all these rumours about POW’s being tested on up in Siberia, on the tundra somewhere. That’s where you were, right? You didn’t say training facility, you said testing facility.’

  Yes, he had. Because yes. Jett just stared, because Enzo really wasn’t making it sound like a good thing, and he didn’t particularly want to be a bad thing.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Enzo’s disgust morphed into concern and he wavered on the spot, stuck between wanting to pull away as if Jett might be contagious or needing to wrap him in an extra blanket and give him a hug. Jett was hoping he just stayed put.