"No" - I said. "Although we did have a confrontation. He…I don't know how he is right now" - I told her. It was hard to admit to her that he and I had a fight, that I hit her ex-boyfriend with my hatchet a dozen times, even if in self-defense. Even if he was behind all of this.
"Is he...?" - she didn't finish the sentence, but I knew what she wanted to ask.
"I don't know" - I told her. It was the truth: any other creature would have succumbed to those injuries immediately, yet he remained alive even after that.
"So this..." - I lifted the blanket and looked at the bandages again. "This is your job?"
She nodded: "You got lucky. The wound looked deep, but the bullet just grazed your skin. Came out almost as soon as it went in. You've lost some blood, and you'll have a nasty scar, but apart from that no serious damage."
"And the gas torch?" - I asked quickly. That thing was the reason for our yesterday's trip. If it had been lost, then...
Natasha smiled and nodded at the pile of my clothes lying in the corner: "it's there, don't worry about it. I grabbed it as well. Once you'll get better, we'll be able to finally get out of here."
"No" - I wheezed, trying to get up. The pain in my stomach, which before that moment was dull, suddenly exploded as the muscles started to agitate the wound. It felt like it was full of ants and almost made me collapse back onto the bed, but I ignored it. "We need to get going now. We don't have much time. There's something outside, something traveling through the forest." I got up from the bed and carefully walked over to the curtained window - Natasha must've closed them to keep the sun out and let me get more sleep, but I could see that it was at least past noon. How long was I out?
"It's going to be here any moment now" - I warned her and swung the curtains open. The next moment I backed away from the window, feeling like lying down again.
It was already there. Right beneath my windows. The strange black-and-purple vines, the same color that gave the infected people's skin such an unhealthy tone. The same color as the strange growths on Nikita's flesh. Thin and weak, barely having the strength to hold on to the walls, they were getting thicker and more numerous the closer they were to the ground, where they connected to an impressive network of roots covering the ground. The thickest of the roots lay in the thin shade of trees, which had prematurely shed their leaves.
All the way to the horizon the forest was dead. It had transformed into a sea of dead grasping fingers, desperately reaching for the grey sky in a silent and pointless prayer for the sun. The strange unearthly plant had sucked it dry of its life force as it was rolling through that once yellow ocean of wood and now finally washed up onto my shore.
I knew exactly what I was looking at. The King in Rags had finally made his appearance.
I looked at the smallest of the vines which tried to grab onto my window frame. It had a tiny bud on it, the size of a single rice grain. It seemed that while everything else was getting ready for a winter slumber the King in Rags, in defiance to the local customs, was just getting ready to bloom.
I remembered the voices in my head from when I was fighting Nikita, his ominous warning, and the pain in my gut subsided, washed away by adrenaline and determination.
"We have to get out immediately" - I told Natasha and headed for the closet. "Go gather your things."
"Yura, you can't go through the sewers in such a state" - she protested. "You're too weak, and it's dirty down there. I cleaned your wound, but if you expose it to things down there you might get infected."
I stopped in my tracks: she was right. I was not scared of a common bacteria that dwelled down there though: even though it would be unpleasant, my body would know how to deal with them. I was more concerned with other things that could be in the water, and my wound was currently like a small mouth.
"I'll wrap it in packaging film" - I said, going to the kitchen. I intended to wrap myself like a cooked chicken.
"Yura, you need to rest!" - Natasha insisted. I turned around to face her and it took all of my willpower not to wince when the wound protested again: I didn't want her to see me weak.
"That thing that possessed Nikita and the others is already here" - I pointed at the window. "He warned me about it yesterday. Said it was coming, and that it was in the air."
"It doesn't matter what he said - he could be lying!" - Natasha exclaimed. "What, are you going to believe him now?" - she asked me with sudden hostility in her voice.
"I felt it myself yesterday, when I confronted him" - I told her. "He's not lying. We're all already infected with this thing, it's just a matter of time before those like him will be able to control us like puppets," - I said. She wanted to object but I stopped her with a gesture: "I know what you want to say, but my decision is final. You've saved me yesterday - now let me save you."
"You're still too weak" - she protested quietly. I came closer and hugged her. "I'm strong enough" - I comforted her. "Let's just get out of here. Let's leave this place like we've always wanted to. Alright?"
She pursed her lips and wiped her eyes, and then nodded. She wanted to leave, I knew that. The only thing that was stopping her was a concern for my health, and I simply couldn't such a petty reason get in the way of her safety. I needed to stay strong for both of us. I needed to call that shot.
Smiling, I kissed her on the forehead.
"Then it's settled. Go grab your things."
***
It took us a few minutes to gather our things: we were taking only the most important things, like warm clothes, money to use wherever we'd end up after getting out, some papers and documents - just in case. We doubted that in the eyes of the state we even qualified as humans anymore - we were just the witnesses of their colossal mess, and they wouldn't want us around. But they could be of some use if we were asked to be identified by someone who wasn't aware of our status as fugitives.
I did my best to wrap my wound in the protective film - the one used to preserve food from spoiling. At that moment, the only thing that could go bad, the only piece of meat in the apartment was me, so in a way, it still served its purpose. It looked ridiculous and I felt hot underneath it, but it would do the trick.
The pain didn't subside, and every time I made a careless move I wanted to scream from pain. I didn't have any painkillers, but when Natasha came from upstairs, all set to go, she brought me a bottle of vodka - the oldest painkiller in the world. It was dangerous to go outside while drunk - I needed my thoughts to be clear and sober, but one sip wouldn't hurt.
We had almost no food, and we had only one thermos for the two of us to fill with drinking water - the water out there in the forest wasn't of good quality even during the best of days. Now it was probably swarming with millions of microforms waiting to possess us. But we decided that if we used it sparingly we'd manage to reach some town before dying of thirst.
The last things we took were the gas torch and the map that Alexei had drawn - the most vital for our escape things. We spent a few minutes trying to memorize the map before setting out - if it became soaked in the sewers or we lost it we needed to be sure we'd be able to find our way out regardless.
After that, we set out.
A few tenants were outside of their apartments
"Listen everyone!" - I shouted to them. "We've found the way out of here. In the basement, there's a manhole that leads to the sewers. Through there, we can reach the outskirts of the town where we'll be in safety and we'll able to leave. It's dangerous to stay here any longer - those vines outside are the reason why some of the people have been going crazy and attacking others. Go grab the bare essentials and let's leave - we'll show you the way!"
Throughout my speech, I could see that no one was buying it. I could see the faces of scorn and doubt and disbelief - something about me was making me an unreliable narrator in their eyes, and they dismissed everything I was saying without even bothering to think to it.
"Do you know what this is about, Masha?"
"It's that crazy one,
the one that's been restless since day one. Must've finally lost it."
"Where do you think you're going looking like that? You're pale as a moon!"
"It must be because he's been drinking non-stop! He smells of vodka right now."
I could hear their murmuring, but I didn't pay it any attention. It didn't matter what they thought of me. What mattered was that I led them out to safety. That I finally complete the mission of our militia, of which I was the sole remaining member.
"Come on! Every minute counts" - I tried to hurry them up, but I didn't sound too confident. I still felt weak from my wounds, and the old habit of putting other's opinion above my own was resurfacing, sabotaging me. And the others picked up on my lack of confidence: to them, it wasn't about getting to the truth, it was about being right above all else.
"Sit your ass down, you crazy drunkard!" - one man shouted at me. "No one's going anywhere, and neither are you. Personally, I saw what happens to those who go outside. We are fine as we are."
"We need to leave now! I'm telling you, if we stay here, we're all going to go crazy" - I told him again. Couldn't they see that? Couldn't they just look out the window to see that those things outside were already starting to grow on the walls?
"A kettle calling the pot black" - someone said sarcastically. "You were told to stay put, kiddo. The military will come and save everyone, so stop playing the hero."
"The youth are always like that" - someone else commented. "They've all got an awl up their asses[17] and they think they know best."
"But you have to just look out the window to see that it's right there! It's sucked all the life out of the forest and if we don't move we're next!" - I shouted with desperation. Natasha came closer and put her hand on my shoulder. I knew what she wanted to say, but I couldn't just accept it. I couldn't just stand there and watch those people throw their lives away. I had to do something. I had been risking my life trying to find the way out for everyone, I had joined the militia, and so many men had died trying to protect them. Pavel, Maxim, Alexei…I couldn't allow their sacrifices to be in vain.
"It's called autumn, boy. Have you not learned it in school?"
"If it's so dangerous out there, why would we go there now?"
"Crawl through the filth on your own, brat."
"Stop with this foolishness, boy!" - a woman stepped forward. I recognized her: she was the one who had suspected me of being the one who had welded us all shut within the building on day one. "I see what's going on! The rest of your crazy pals have kicked the dust because they were sticking their necks out, and now you think you're the one in charge because you're the only one left?"
"Those people were sticking their necks out to protect you" - I said in a low voice, feeling that I was reaching my breaking point. "Don't talk about them like that. They were heroes."
"Yeah? Lot of good their heroics did, didn't it?" - she asked me sarcastically.
"Screw you!" - I shouted at her and everyone behind her. Seeing my reaction, she let out a satisfied smirk - to her, it was just another confirmation that I was an immature prick she thought I was.
I couldn't stay calm: the alcohol was not helping, and when I shouted the wound exploded with pain again, making me lose my cool. I wanted to start smashing their faces, to just wave my fists around like windmills, hoping they would hit someone. "Screw all of you, you rotten lot! I was risking my life for you, all of us were, and you people aren't even worth saving!"
"Look at him - what a hero! What do you want, a medal?" - someone shouted from the back of the crowd. For a moment I wanted to look him in the eye, call him out, ask him what he'd done in those past few days for the good of everyone…But I couldn't find him in the crowd. All I could see was scornful, hateful faces of people who didn't like to be lectured.
"I'm leaving" - I said with sudden calmness. The faceless commenter, whoever he was, was actually right. Why even waste my breath for them? What did I expect from them - an admiration? A pat on the back?
My mother suddenly stepping through the crowd and telling me what a good boy I was?
I turned around and smiled at Natasha. She smiled back at me.
"Good riddance!" - the crowd wouldn't calm down, shouting at my back.
"Where do you think you're going, you dolt? Do you think you're smarter than anyone else? Sit tight and wait for a rescue!"
"Let him go. More food for us."
"Hey, that's right. Hey, you! Hero! What apartment are you from?"
I didn't answer. It was up to them to figure that out.
"If any of you change your mind - just follow us. Just go through the sewers, we'll be leaving waypoints for you" - Natasha told them. Such a hopeless bleeding heart, she was!
"Go, go already. Patronizing bitch. Kids these days..." - someone snapped at her. She pursed her lips, swallowed the insult, and followed me.
No one tried to stop us. No one talked to us. People were giving us the mean eye, but no one tried to start an argument anymore.
We descended to the basement and approached the manhole. I tried to lift it, but the moment I pulled it the wound in my gut protested and made me let go of the manhole, almost pinning my fingers underneath it. Natasha came to my rescue, and together, we finally managed to pull it aside.
"Are you ready?" - I asked her. "We're finally leaving. We're finally going outside" - I told her, trying to cheer her up. The words of my mother turned out to be prophetic: no one waited for us there, there was nothing but terror and misery…and yet I was smiling. I had always imagined leaving the town in some other manner - I expected it to be a moment of triumph, imagined that my mother would be there to shed tears at how much I'd grown, imagined people waving at me and wishing me good luck. Instead, I was escaping it through the sewers like a rat, with no approval from the rest of the people and only curses being uttered under their breath.
And yet, I was smiling. Even if it wasn't what I had imagined, I was leaving that place all the same. On my own accord. And somehow, the disapproval of my mother's peers was only making my decision more valuable to me, because I was sure that it was my own.
Natasha threw one final glance in the direction of the entrance to the basement, as if expecting someone to change their mind and follow us, and then smiled at me, too.
"Yes. Let's go."
The End.
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A group of misfits travel to Siberia to earn a fortune by excavating mammoth tusks. What they find instead is far more terrifying.
They say that the mythical Leshiy, a spirit from the Slavic folklore, is known as the master of the forest.
What they don't say is that every myth has its origins…
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* * *
[1] Roughly translates to "New Ravine"
[2] Pizdets – a Russian swear word with many applications and meanings, the most popular one is “a very bad situation”.
[3] Avito – a popular Russian website with sections devoted to general goods for sale, jobs, real estate, personals, cars for sale, and services.
[4] An emergency phone number of the Russian police
[5] Kyshtym – the second worst nuclear incident after Chernobyl, which took place in 1957. The information about it was kept secret by both the USSR and the USA, as the CIA was concerned the panic would harm the emerging American nuclear industry.
[6] Yura – a petting form of the name �
�Yuri”
[7] Ot’jebis – Russian swear word, means “f*ck off”
[8] nihuya – a Russian swear word, means “absolutely nothing”
[9] Pashtet – "pate." Russian thugs often refer to each other by nicknames rather than by their real names.
[10] In Russian language, “trash” is slur used to refer to police officers.
[11] Yulia – a female Russian name
[12] Huyovo – a Russian swear word, means “very bad”
[13] Blyat – a Russian swear word, bread and butter of Russian swearing. In this context it means the same as the F-word, and is meant to imply the immense frustration of the speaker.
[14] Pizdets – a Russian swear word with many applications and meanings, the most popular one is “a very bad situation”. In this context, it means “this is so immensely messed up.”
[15] Natali and Yuri – full, semi-official versions of names “Natasha” and “Yura”.
[16] Kakogo huya – “what the f*ck”
[17] A Russian expression, meant to describe someone restless and agitated.
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