over the wild animalistic screaming and the distant sound of wings.
Hesitantly she raised her head, coughed up dust from her lungs and looked around. Not far from her, into the street a fresh crater with filled in dark, oily blood, had been drilled. Next to it was a ripped out, burnt wing and a few burnt pieces of flesh which had no real shape.
Over the stony crater a strong built man in a heavy radiation suit approached her with steady, straight steps.
Hunter!
CHAPTER 13
A Story
He took her hand, helped her up and dragged her behind him. Then as if he had thought about it differently he let go of her again. The visor of his helmet was out of tinted glass so that Sasha couldn’t see his eyes.
“Stay close behind me!” It sounded dull out of the filters of his mask. “It is going to be dark soon; we need to get away from here.”
Without giving her another look he started running.
“Hunter!” Yelled the girl after him. Through the glasses of her gasmask she tried to recognize her savior.
He acted like he hadn’t heard her and Sasha couldn’t do anything else but run after him with all her strength. Of course he was angry at her: For the third time he now had to help that stupid girl out of a tight spot. But he still had come only because she had gone to the surface, how could she have doubted him…
The brigadier left the nest out of which Sasha had come out to his left. He knew other paths. He turned away from the main street to the right, dove under an arc, ran past a few flat and rusted iron boxes, fired at a blurry shadow in a corner, and finally stopped in front of a shed in front of a brick wall with windows closed off with iron bars. It didn’t look like much. With a key he opened the massive lock.
A hideout? No the shed was a hidden entrance: Behind the door a concrete staircase fell from one side to the other into the depths.
Hunter put the lock back from the inside and locked it, switched on his flashlight and started climbing down. The white and green colored walls, from which the color peeled of heavily, were written on over and over again: Entrance – Exit, Entrance – Exit… Sasha’s savior added a few unreadable writing at one part. It seemed that everybody that used this secret entrance had to note when he had gone out and when he had come back. At a few names the numbers for the return were missing.
The way down was over quicker then she thought: Even though the steps lead down further, Hunter stopped at an almost unnoticeable iron gate, beat his fist against it and after a few seconds you could hear how somebody pushed the bolt out of the way.
A tousled man with a sparse beard opened them. He was wearing a blue pants.
“Who’s that?” He asked surprised.
“Found him at the ring.” Said hunter. “The birds almost got him, if I hadn’t been there with the grenade launcher… Hey man how did you even end up there?” He put back his hood and took of his gasmask…
In front of Sasha was standing an unknown man with a dark blond, short, military haircut, pale grey eyes and a bent in nose that looked like he had broken it once before. She had suspected that he was moving way too fast for and injured man, his movement had been animal like, even his radiation suit hadn’t been the same but she hadn’t wanted to believe it till the last moment. She had told herself lies to make her believe.
She was feeling unbearable hot and she ripped the gasmask from her face.
Fifteen minutes later Sasha was already on the other side of Hanza’s border.
“Sorry but without any documents you can’t stay her.” In her savior’s voice was honest regret.
“Maybe tonight, well yes… So at the gate?”
She nodded silent and smiled. Where should she go now? To him? There was enough time. Sasha couldn’t keep her disappointment in that it hadn’t been hunter who had saved her. Even now she still had to do another thing that no longer needed another delay.
Soft and luring were the sounds of the wonderful music that cut through the noise of the crowd. Over the sound of boots and the screams of the merchants. It was the same melody that had put its spell on her yesterday. While she followed it Sasha had a feeling as if once again she was finding a door full of unearthly shine. Where did it lead her this time?
Dozens of listeners were standing around the musician in a tight circle. To see him Sasha had to make her way through the crowd. Finally she was standing directly in front of him. His melody pulled the humans to him like magic put kept them at a distance at the same time. It was like light, all flew to it put nobody wanted to get burned by it.
Sasha wasn’t afraid.
He was young, tall and was surprisingly good looking.
Even though he looked weak, his well kept face wasn’t soft and in his green eyes was no naivety.
The dark, long hair fell down to his shoulders. His clothes were different from the crowd of people at the
His instrument was like one of the whistles of children, which had been built out of plastic pipes, but bigger, black and had folds of copper. The flute was something fine and it was probably very expensive. The sounds that he lured out of the flute seemed to be out of another world and another time.
Like the instrument and its owner.
He had caught Sasha look immediately, let it go for a moment and caught it again. It made her blush. His attention was not unpleasant but actually she was here for the music.
“There you are! Thank god!”
It was Homer who made his way to her breathing heavy and sweating.
“How’s he?” Asked Sasha immediately.
“Is he…” Started the old man but then he said: “He left”
“What? Where?” Sasha felt as if a fist was pressing her heart together.
“He ran away. Packed all his things. I think he went to the
“Did he leave anything?” She asked carefully, anxious for the answer Homer would give her.
The old man shook his head. “No, nothing.”
Somebody in the crowd made an angry hissing sound.
Homer went silent and listened to the music and stared distrusting at the musician and the girl. But Sasha was sunken in thoughts.
Hunter had chaser her away and ran away, but now she seemed to understand his strange rules.
When the bold one had taken everything he owned, trully everything… Then he wanted that she didn’t give up, that she didn’t stray from her path and search for him. And she would do that, even after everything that had happened. If just… “The knife?” She whispered.
“Did he take it with him? The black one?”
The old man shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not in his room.”
“So he did take it with him!”
That simple sign was all she needed.
The musician with the flute had talent without a doubt and knew how to use his instrument perfectly, as if he had been playing at a concert just yesterday. There were many bullets in the flute box in front of him, so many that he could have fed a small station or erased it from the face of the earth.
There it was. Acknowledgement, thought Homer and smiled sadly.
The old man thought about from where he knew the melody, but even after a long time he had no idea. From an old movie in the cinema, a concert or on the radio? He couldn’t remember where he had heard it. The extraordinary thing was: Did the melody have you once, it didn’t let you go, you had to listen to it till the end and
