St Petersburg suburbs
Captain Juri Medvedev stepped cautiously towards the entrance of the apartment block on the ground floor, snowflakes billowing through the opening as he glanced round, several shadowed figures behind him, their assault rifles held tightly across their chests. Most of the dirt encrusted soldiers had scarves over their mouths and knapsacks on their backs, the canvas containers full of tinned food and rations scavenged from the deserted apartments. The ground floor was caked in dust, discarded belongings tossed against the dirt smeared walls, the corridor in gloomy darkness as clouds of exhaled air billowed around the figures.
The officer looked out briefly, the exposed upper part of his face tensing against the bitter cold, frost surrounding the paint flaked doorway and sparkling across the footpaths between the high rise buildings, the few unbroken street lamps now extremely dimmed or without power. Hesitating next to the opening, he stared towards the doorway opposite, seeing a shadowed wave, the infantry unit in the next building also ready to depart.
Swallowing hard, the Russian officer turned, whispering to the soldier behind, ‘It’s gone quiet again now. Stay down…check the other blocks and make sure they are all prepared…we all leave together. The rear guard will pull out thirty minutes later…’
The young soldier nodded nervously, straining his eyes before darting through the doorway, his frame lowered as he ran along the angled enclosed pathways, four feet high walls bordering the frosted walkways. Frozen bushes and low trees were planted above on ornate raised garden sections, the branches and iced leaves dusted with snow.
Medvedev rested his back against the cold scuffed wall, sliding down the surface, his rifle across his bent knees, most of his men also lowering themselves to rest, their nervousness mounting as the exhaled breath formed in further clouds around them, muffled gunfire and shrieks resounding to the north and east. Several soldiers lit cigarettes, the warm smoke swirling upwards as they rubbed the back of their necks or whispered tentatively to each other, a couple checking their weapon magazines as the last spotter slipped down the cement stairs to join them, his boots cracking on plaster dust and debris. Lowering onto the second from bottom step, the young soldier nodded to his commander, his voice muffled behind the scarf, ‘The snipers will be down as soon as we move away from the blocks…they say there are skirmishes at the edges of the estate…that they think the aliens are getting ready to attack. Their drones are circling to the east and north…firing down onto any defenders…’
Medvedev waved a hand wearily, glancing back out into the frosted gloom, his voice low, ‘The opportunity to escape is narrowing, so the major in a neighbouring block has ordered that we will all try and leave…an organised fall back to our lines in the south. Each block has assigned rear guard soldiers that will try and protect us or distract the enemy from the upper floors. There is an infantry unit engaging the aliens on the outskirts and they will fall back as we move out…’ He grimaced, ‘We will probably not all make it…the enemy are too strong and all around us…do not stop for those that fall, just keep running.’ He shook his head despondently, ‘We have a long way to go and probably all through enemy held territory…’
The soldiers nodded grimly, most considering the opportunity to successfully escape had passed at least a day ago and were eager to get moving no matter the outcome, realising they stood more chance of passing through any enemy lines in small groups rather than in a large unit.
After some time, the young soldier returned, dropping to one knee before the commander, his breathing deep, clouds of exhaled air around his cold, wide eyed features, ‘Captain…three of the blocks are ready to leave, the others still assembling their men…the major has ordered you to start the withdrawal. Our unit will lead, the others following every few minutes…’ The young soldier swallowed deeply with the biting frost, his body shivering, ‘Each following group has orders to alter their route should we be ambushed captain…the returning patrol from the southern streets have reported it is very quiet…several bodies, but very quiet. They believe the enemy has moved on…’
Captain Medvedev gritted his teeth, nodding solemnly as his apprehension rose, his helmet turning as he stared at the seventeen men in the ground floor corridor, a hand rubbing his scarf nervously as he indicated to the young soldier sat on the stairs, ‘Very well…get the snipers from above…we move in a couple of minutes.’
The depleted squad moved out into the darkness, clouds of condensed breath hanging in the frosted gloom around the figures as they advanced, assault rifles held at shoulder height and jerking from side to side, the snipers behind with their barrels lowered. Muffled gunfire echoed to either side of the estate, the cracks of sniper fire erupting as upper spotters glimpsed movement across the darkened outer streets.
Several of the observers in the upper stories of other blocks held their breaths, watching through strained eyes as the silhouettes below darted along the frosted paths, dropping to crouches at junctions with their weapons pointing menacingly outwards. The group would hesitate briefly before allowing others to proceed southwards in front of them, the unit advancing towards the outskirts of the housing estate, and disappearing from view into darkness behind the southernmost block.
The bitter cold seemed to descend further, the fragmented unit crossing open grassland and a playground before reaching the outer walls of the housing estate, the swings frames and goalposts bent and twisted behind, a low chilled mist snaking across the frosted grass. Medvedev raised his fist as he dropped to one knee, allowing the stragglers to catch up, the men lowering next to him and behind the high wall he leant against. Glancing round nervously, the officer nodded to
