Barricade

by Lindsey Black

  ‘I’m fine?’ He motioned to himself and arched a brow. Obviously?

  Looking far from convinced, Enzo swore under his breath and ran his fingers into his hair, trapping them in the thick mass, fingers wrapped in and around the bun at the back of his head, which he tipped back while he closed his eyes. He took deep breaths.

  ‘Have you told Sasha?’ Enzo was immediately in his face again, so close Jett pulled back instinctively, eyes wide.

  ‘Uh …’ No, because it hadn’t seemed like a big deal half an hour ago, and now that it apparently was a big deal he didn’t want to, in case Sasha had a problem with it. He didn’t want Sasha to have a problem with any part of him, especially not his past. That seemed unfair, to say the least.

  ‘Not because he’s your commanding officer or whatever,’ Enzo waved off that concern, which was weird since Jett hadn’t been concerned about it until Enzo put it out there. ‘But because you’re sleeping with the guy. He deserves to know.’

  Jett choked on air. He hadn’t even known that was possible. He choked and then coughed. Spluttered while his eyes teared up. Enzo patted him on the back while he wheezed.

  ‘You knew?’

  ‘Are you kidding me? Sasha hasn’t eye-fucked anything the way he looks at you the whole time I’ve known him,’ Enzo snickered. ‘He looks at you the way I look at pasta.’

  ‘Fuckin’ hell …’ He was going to start hyperventilating if he didn’t get the cough under control soon. Seriously, how did he choke on air?

  ‘Are you choking?’

  Jett vehemently shook his head.

  ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Stepanova’s hot, if you swing that way.’ He looked confused momentarily. ‘Which, you better, since he wants you and if you hurt him I’m gonna have to fucking kill you, which would suck since we’re just starting to get along and all.’

  Jett was lost for words, and not just because he was struggling for breath. He took a moment to calm down and waited for his eyes to stop watering.

  ‘I’m not gonna hurt him,’ Jett grumbled. He probably should have asked exactly what he’d agreed to with Sasha but he’d wanted to get dressed and the man was demanding. But he wanted Sasha to be his exclusively, and he probably should have made that clear. Not that he had any right to demand anything. They were stuck on the wall, but that didn’t mean Sasha couldn’t just walk a few kilometres and have someone else. That thought ate at Jett more than he’d expected. ‘It’s not like that.’

  ‘It is exactly like that,’ Enzo argued. ‘And you need to tell him you were a Russian POW test subject and whatever the hell they did to you because it’s not nice to keep secrets from the guy who puts that stupid look on your face.’

  Jett wanted to argue, mostly because what had been done to him wasn’t even that interesting in the grand scheme of things, but he didn’t. He took one look at the determination on Enzo’s face and the set of his shoulders and the way his jaw bulged and he looked away. Enzo was probably right. Jett just had no idea how you were supposed to explain that to anybody.

  ‘Was it bad?’ Enzo hesitated, then leaned back on his hands and looked back down at the town.

  ‘I didn’t think so,’ Jett shrugged, nervously fidgeting with the tattered corner of one of the blankets. ‘How would I know, you know? It was all I knew. In retrospect? The Barricade’s pretty cushy.’ All he knew, the testing facility and the Barricade. Neither seemed an accurate portrait of the world.

  ‘You can see better than us,’ Enzo realised suddenly, looking over his shoulder at the tree line on the northern side and smirking. ‘That’s how you shot the deer.’

  ‘I guess? Again, how would I know? It’s just normal to me.’

  ‘That’s wicked,’ Enzo hissed, getting excited. ‘What else? Strong? You hauled the carcass back solo most of the way.’

  ‘Relative to size, yes I’m pretty strong,’ Jett agreed. ‘But it doesn’t give me much of an advantage when most people are bigger than I am.’

  ‘Sure, makes sense,’ Enzo was nodding, contemplating. ‘You heal pretty fast?’

  ‘Ish,’ Jett did the funny hand movement, shaking it from side to side. ‘Sometimes I heal better than others, but in general, yeah, the stab wounds already closing pretty well.’

  ‘Huh. Make sure if I look like I’m about to get hurt you jump in and get hurt instead, yeah?’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘What? No way am I convalescing for weeks for something that’ll only land you in bed for a few days. Besides, you’ll like being in bed because Step will fawn all over your invalid arse.’

  ‘You’re being weirdly understanding about all this,’ Jett pointed out, mostly to cover how uncomfortable that was.

  ‘Would you prefer I screamed in your face and called you a monster and told you to never touch Step’s dick?’

  Jett gaped at him. Mouth just hanging in the breeze.

  ‘Didn’t think so,’ Enzo smirked and shuffled to his feet, picking up his empty coffee cup and binoculars. ‘Nothing surprises me anymore. Russia took over the world while no-one was watching, built a giant-arse wall across the biggest continent on the planet and everything south of it is dying a slow and torturous death. Finding out you were tested on in a secret facility in Siberia, where … you know, there’s been rumours of people being tested on pretty much since the dawn of time? Well, that’s not really surprising. At all.’

  ‘When you put it that way …’

  ‘Now come on, there’s something goin’ on down there and I want to get a closer look.’ He pointed to the town and Jett scurried to follow him out of the lighthouse. He caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows behind one of the taller buildings.

  The sun was just starting to lighten the sky, not visible through the clouds but lightening the surrounds enough to see. Enzo had his binoculars out and was looking over at the business district so Jett followed his line of sight and tried to pick out any peculiarities. It wasn’t hard. A small group of people were assembling a shelf of scaffolding against a large grey brick wall.

  ‘What are they doing?’ Enzo mumbled, adjusting the focus on the binoculars to try and get a better idea. He shouldn’t have bothered. As they stood watching, the men climbed onto the scaffold and used red spray paint to write in massive lettering ‘soldiers not welcome’.

  ‘Are they serious?’ Enzo scowled, turning to look at Jett as if he could read their minds and answer his question. When Jett just shrugged, Enzo huffed and shoved his coffee mug into Jett’s hands. ‘Go make me coffee.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Jett griped, but he took the mug and went to do as he was told.

  It was nice just to be inside in the heating again. He left his jacket upstairs, because the heavy layers were suffocating, and was delighted when Anna came running over to say hello as soon as she heard him on the stairs descending into the kitchen.

  ‘Hey, pretty girl.’ He rubbed her head, scratched behind her ears and then rubbed her tummy when she threw herself onto the stones and rolled over expectantly. She was spoiled, but that was fine by Jett. He put the kettle on and found some mince defrosting in the sink with two dirty mugs.

  ‘Is this for you?’ Jett looked at Anna and held up the meat, amused by her immediate whining and the way she lowered her head onto her front paws but left her rear in the air to shake her tail in excitement. ‘Yeah, it’s for you.’ He put it in her bowl and washed out the three mugs, putting coffee into two of them and waiting for the water to boil.

  When he had two steaming coffees ready to go, Jett headed back upstairs and put his coat back on before heading out into the frigid air. Enzo was pacing in front of the parapet, casting annoyed glances down at the town.

  ‘Here.’ He handed over one of the mugs and wrapped both hands firmly around the other. The mug was almost scalding against his frozen fingers but he didn’t care, the pain preferable to the numbness.

  Down below, several more scaffolds had been set up and the people were making more buildings with
creative slogans. Keep out. Murderers cannot cross. Empire free zone. No Russians!

  ‘Hey, do you think that means we can go in?’ Jett queried. ‘I mean, we’re not Russian, so …’

  Enzo chuckled, still scowling at the people moving below.

  ‘What the fuck do they think they’re doing?’

  ‘Marking territory?’ Jett had thought that was quite obvious.

  ‘But it’s like painting a giant sign saying, ‘come and see what we’re hiding’.’ Enzo waved a hand in the air as if he were spray painting the words.

  ‘That’s exactly what they’re doing,’ Jett agreed, confused.

  ‘What?’ Enzo, apparently, was also confused.

  ‘That’s what they’re doing. They’re painting a giant sign telling us not to go in there. I think you’re probably right that it means they’re hiding something.’

  ‘Sometimes you seem so normal,’ Enzo rumbled. ‘Then you say something that’s so fucking weird.’

  ‘But you just said …’ The exact same thing! Jett huffed when Enzo just waved him off, lifting the binoculars again. Jett didn’t see the point in the binoculars, the words were big enough, you could probably see them in space.

  ‘Oh, I like that one,’ Jett snickered, pointing to a large green set of letters declaring, ‘Infected welcome. Barricade bastards not.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to like them.’ Enzo swilled his coffee.

  ‘Why not? There’s nothing else to look at down there. Were the houses different colours once?’ Because they were all grey now, and in a shambles. It really was ugly, especially compared to the trees to the north or the pretty riverscape to the south, or the fields on the western horizon.

  ‘I guess,’ Enzo scrunched up his face, contemplating and then grinned. ‘You know, you’re right. These guys clearly have no idea how to graffiti anything.’

  ‘Uh …’

  ‘We should go down and pretty it up, don’t you think?’ That look on Enzo’s face could not be a good thing.

  ‘No,’ Jett disagreed immediately. ‘No, we should definitely not do that! Sasha told us we were not allowed to go into town until they got back!’

  ‘Do you always do as you’re told? Don’t answer that, it’s a really stupid question.’ Enzo charged past him toward the tower. Horrified, Jett hurried after him, trying to finish his coffee and catch up at the same time. His eyes watered against the hot liquid but he managed to finish it in time to dump it in the sink on his way past the kitchen.

  Enzo was rummaging through the stores on level four, which surprised Jett. He’d expected to find him on the ground floor getting his Q-hab and armour on. Frowning at Enzo hauling boxes aside, he hesitantly wandered into the small maze of supplies.

  There were decades of stored things people had asked for over the years. Extra supplies, broken things no-one wanted to throw away, things people had found and kept ‘just in case’. The boxes were clearly labelled with a long list of contents, the date it was put there and by whom.

  Enzo excitedly ripped open a box and crowed in delight when he pulled out a large bottle in each hand. One was blue, the other yellow.

  Paint.

  ‘Seriously?’ Jett groaned as Enzo filled his arms with four bottles of paint; primary colours and white, and then hurried off down the stairs. ‘Seriously?’ He yelled after him, louder, as if that might make a difference.

  But this time instead of heading for the ground floor, Enzo surprised Jett yet again by heading to the infirmary. He rummaged in one of the cupboards and finally held up a massive box of a hundred condoms.

  ‘You have got to be shitting me,’ Jett squawked. ‘Why do we even have those?’

  ‘Safe sex, no regrets. Dudes on a wall, alone for decades. Are you kidding me?’ Enzo shook the box. ‘Everyone tries it at least once. Wait …’ He was scowling. Jett didn’t think Enzo scowling was a good thing.

  ‘What?’ Jett whispered it, not really asking anyone, convinced Enzo may have actually lost his mind.

  ‘You went bareback? Ugh! You need to talk to Sasha before you give him any weird diseases!’

  ‘I am not diseased!’ Jett was furious. ‘We didn’t go that far! I wouldn’t have let him do it without one, I’m not a monster!’

  Enzo was still looking down at him balefully, then turned without saying anything and stormed from the room.

  ‘Sasha said we were not allowed outside!’ He called out, hurrying to catch up, but weirdly he still wasn’t heading to the ground floor, going back up instead.

  ‘We’re not going outside,’ Enzo assured him, flashing him a grin over his shoulder. Arms full of paint and condoms, Enzo rushed back to the top floor armoury and laid out his supplies on the table.

  Enzo opened a bottle of paint and put a condom over the end of the bottle before squeezing a large dollop into the thin latex.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Jett screeched at him, completely lost.

  ‘Get the tranq gun and follow my instructions.’

  ‘What?’ And yet Jett obediently grabbed the air gun from the rack and followed a list of increasingly dubious instructions that would alter its mechanism just enough that it would be perfect for firing … ‘Paint gun,’ Jett realised, putting the gun down on the table and looking sternly at Enzo.

  ‘Do you ever just relax?’ Enzo mused, filling another condom. He’d managed quite the small collection but there were still a lot of condoms in the box. ‘Admit it, it could be much worse.’

  That was true. Enzo could be trying to storm out the gates to go shoot people with real bullets. That would definitely be worse. And Sasha did not tell him that they were not allowed to paint the town from the safety of the Barricade, nor that retaliation for graffiti was not permitted. So Jett grabbed the bottle of yellow paint and tore open a condom, staring at it dubiously before absorbing himself in the task of filling their bombs.

  There were a handful of condoms left in the box. Enzo snatched them up and shoved them in the lower knee pocket of Jett’s cams. Startled, all Jett could think to do was stare at him.

  ‘What? I know Sasha’s clean, but I’ve got no clue where you’ve been,’ Enzo pointed a finger at him, twitched it up and down to indicate all of him and then grabbed a box to put the paint bombs in.

  ‘You’re not funny, you know,’ Jett grumbled, helping to carefully place the condoms into the box. ‘I would never hurt him.’

  ‘Oh, I think I am, and I think you will,’ Enzo countered. ‘But I’ll be there to make sure you make up, okay?’

  Jett didn’t bother to argue, piling the last of the paint bombs into the box. He put his coat on and held the door open for Enzo and the box, amused when Anna slipped out as well, rushing straight at a pile of snow and diving in head first.

  Enzo was setting up the rifle, the box of paint bombs by his feet. He picked a random ball and then looked down at the town and its recent slogans. Jett looked out at the town and noticed they had marked out the business district as a no-Barricade personnel zone, placing the majority of the graffiti between the lighthouse and the tower at Six-Six-Seven. Jett let Anna through the lighthouse and she rushed off toward the far tower.

  ‘Got a particular wall you like?’

  Surprised, Jett stared out at the town and then pointed to a seven storey building close to the Barricade with a solid wall of windowless grey cement looking over the business district.

  ‘Alright, Mr. Pollack. Let’s do this!’

  ‘Who?’

  But Enzo ignored him and set about slaughtering the wall, and Jett had to admit it was fun. They took turns taking shots, making bets about who could hit a particular stain or feature, or get the closest shots in a row. Anna realised they were up to something and spent the morning running back and forth along the wall trying to follow the paint balls as they sailed past.

  Enzo also confided in Jett where he kept his private brew, a raw Vodka in a homemade vat in the infirmary locker. He fetched a bottle and with the first sip Jett
knew he was in trouble, because people were not supposed to drink rocket fuel. It was completely disgusting and went straight to his head, burning his throat and leaving his thoughts muddled and his balance askew.

  The guys from District Six-Six-Seven ended up coming out on the wall before lunch with another box of paint bombs.

  ‘Seriously? Does every district have an endless condom supply?’ Jett stared at their box, estimating they had a few hundred bombs in there.

  ‘Is he kidding?’ Gleba asked Enzo.

  ‘Nope.’ Jett did not understand how that was funny.

  ‘This is such a great idea,’ Paraklov set up the second rifle and started adding to the wall. ‘Soon as I saw them putting up their stupid warnings I wanted to go down there and shoot them in their smug little faces.’

  ‘Paraklov has anger management issues,’ Enzo said under his breath, spiking Paraklov’s coffee while the man was shooting.

  The influx of new paint balls meant the paint balling continued well into the afternoon. Nieminen fetched a bottle of Six-Six-Seven’s home brew, demanding Jett judge whose was better, but he couldn’t taste either of them and no-one was pleased by his declaration that they were equally poisonous.

  It was nice to just relax with a group of guys who didn’t expect anything. Yes, they were technically all on duty, but they were also stuck on the Barricade with nothing of immediate importance to achieve.

  Jett liked the team from Six-Six-Seven, amused by their dynamic. Nieminen was their Sergeant. He was in his early forties and of clear Scandinavian decent, though he’d been born in Russia. In appearance he reminded Jett of Raikkinen but that was where the similarity ended. Raikkinen was serious and intensely private, letting his guard down only around the team, while Nieminen was loud and brash and ribbed his men mercilessly.

  He was closest to Nowak, a conscript from Poland who either wasn’t drinking or was in no way affected by alcohol. Jett suspected the latter, even if that seemed impossible. Nowak asked completely inappropriate questions, incited competition in the paint balling masterpiece and was at no point in the afternoon further than an arm’s length from Nieminen’s side. It was clear they had been together a long time.