apart bodies. Without hesitation the commander put his pistol at him, but he seemed to have forgotten that he was out of bullets, hissed hatefully and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened but a clicking sound. Ivanenko screamed and ran away.
Suddenly one of the soldiers raised his assault rifle coughing and rammed the bayonet with an oblique movement into the commander’s back. The commander didn’t drop down but turned his head slowly over his shoulder and looked at the attacker behind him.
“What are you doing you damn son of a whore?”
He asked him silently and surprised.
The other one screamed at him: “Soon you’ll get rid of us like as well! There are no more healthy here! Today we kill them and tomorrow you throw us to them into the wagon!” The man moved the gun from one side to the other and tried to pull it out of the commander put didn’t pull the trigger.
Nobody dared to intervene. Even Artyom who had made one step into the other direction had stopped. Finally the bayonet got out of his back. The commander tried to touch the wound, in vain. He fell to his knees, leaned on his hand and shook his head. It looked like he was fighting against sleep.
Nobody dared to shot at the commander. Even the provocateur who had stabbed him stepped back afraid. Then he ripped his gasmask from his face and screamed over the entire station pass: “Brothers! Stop this torture! Let them go! They are going to die anyways! And we too! Aren’t we humans?”
“Don’t you dare…” Hissed the commander still on his knees.
The marksmen started to discuss loudly. Suddenly one of the soldier fired the provocateur straight in his face so that he fell onto his back. He was laying right next to the other bodies. But it was too late: With a triumphal howling the infected streamed out of the train, ran stumbling on their thick legs, ripped the rifles out of the hands of the undecided guards and disappeared into all directions. Even the guards started to move: Some of them shot at the sick; others had already joined them and ran into the tunnels leading to the north. To the
Artyom was still standing as if he was made out of stone and stared at the commander confused.
He just refused to die. At first he was crawling on his hands and feet, then he stood up and started to stumble. It seemed that he had a certain goal.
“You’ll be surprised.” He mumbled. “It’s not that easy to… Me…”
His glassy look stopped at Artyom. He looked at him as if he didn’t recognize who he was and then he barked with the same tone as always: “Popov! Get me to the room of the radio operator! The guards at northern post have to close the door at all costs…”
The commander leaned on Artyom’s shoulder and both stumbled past the empty train, past the fighting humans and the mountains of trash until they finally reached the of the radio operator. The wound of the commander seemed to not have been fatal but he had lost a lot of blood. So his strength left him and he passed out.
Artyom put the chair in front of the door, took the microphone and dialed the number of the northern guard. The apparatus clicked, there was a rasping sound as if somebody was breathing exhausted and finally silence. It was too late.
He could no longer cut them off. But the
Thank god, the apparatus was still working! At first he could only hear the whispering echo and then the ringing.
One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six…
Please god, let them answer! If they are still alive, if they aren’t infected yet, let them answer, so that they could have a chance. Let somebody pick up the receiver before the infected reach the station… Artyom would’ve sold his soul for it, if somebody would just pick up the receiver at the other end…
Then the unimaginable happened. The seventh calling broke the silence; a croaking sound was to be heard, in the background a few shreds of words and then a breathless, broken voice cut through the static.
“
The cell was plunged into half darkness but even the bit of light was enough to notice: The silhouette of this prisoner was to small and lifeless to be the brigadier. It looked like there was a puppet made out of hay behind the bars. The person had collapsed. Probably it was one of the guards, dead.
But where was Hunter…
“I almost thought you wouldn’t come.” It sounded the hollow from behind them. “In there it was to… Narrow.”
Melnik turned around so fast that Homer couldn’t keep up. In the middle of the passage way to the station was the brigadier. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, as if he mistrusted them and feared to let them go.
Melnik’s cheek twitched. “Is that you?”
“Still.” Hunter cleared his throat strangely. If Homer wouldn’t have know better he could’ve interpreted the sound as some kind of laugh.
“What’s with you? With your face?” Probably Melnik wanted to ask something else entirely.
With one gesture of his hand the guards distanced themselves.
Homer was allowed to stay.
“You’re not in the best condition either.” The brigadier cleared his throat again.
“Nothing special.” Melnik made a grimace. “Just too bad that I can’t hug you. The devil take… How long we’ve searched for you!”
“I know. I had to… Be alone for some time.” Said Hunter in his typical way. “I…didn’t want to go back to the people. Wanted to disappear forever. But then I was afraid…”
“What happened back then, with the dark ones? Is that from them?” Melnik pointed with his head at the violet scars on Hunters face.
“Nothing happened. I wasn’t able to destroy them.”
He touched his scar. “I couldn’t. They… Broke me”
“Then you had been right back then.” Said Melnik with unexpected intensity. “Forgive me! At the beginning I didn’t think it was important and didn’t believe you. Back then we… You know it yourself. We found them and burnt them down. We thought you were no longer alive. And that they… That’s why I… Them… For you… To the last!”
“I know.” Said Hunter huskily. It must be hard for him to talk about it “They knew it would come to it. Because of me. They knew everything. The fate of every single one of us. If you knew against whom we had raised our hand back then! Back then he had smiled on us one more time. And we… And I’ve judged them and you carried out the sentence. That’s how we are. The true monsters…”
“What are you talking about?”
“When I got to them… They showed my myself. Back then it was like I was looking into a mirror and I saw everything for what it was. I understood everything about me. About humanity. Why everything had happened to us…”
“What are you talking about?” Melnik stared at his comrade worried and looked hastily to the door. Did he regret that he had sent the guards away?
“I tell you, I have seen myself with my own eyes, like in a mirror. Not from the outside, but from the inside, what was behind the armor… They brought it to the light. The monster. I didn’t see a man back then. And I had been afraid of myself. I had lied to myself… Told myself that I am here to protect the people, to save them… All lies! Like a hungry animal a went for their throat. Even worse… The mirror disappeared but this here… This… Remained. It awoke and didn’t let me in peace. They thought I would kill myself after that. And yes: For what should I still live? But I didn’t do it. I had to fight. At first alone so that no one could see it. Far away from the people. I thought I could punish myself so they didn’t have to. I thought I could chase it away through pain…” The brigadier touched his scars.
“But then I realized that I couldn’t defeat it on my own. Again and again I forgot myself… So I returned.”
