Dmitry Glukhovsky - Metro 2034

‘You heard everything,’ he said in a husky voice. ‘I’m leaving. Will you go with me?’

‘Where to?’ asked the old man, smiling as the girl walked up to them. ‘She knows everything,’ he explained to the man with the shaved head.

Hunter stabbed Sasha again with his barbed gaze, then nodded without saying anything to her.

‘Not far,’ he said, shifting his head to speak to the old man. ‘But I… I don’t want to be left alone.’

‘Take me with you,’ said Sasha, seizing her chance.

The man with the shaved head breathed in loudly, clenching his fingers and unclenching them again.

‘Thank you for the knife,’ he said eventually. ‘It came in very useful.’

The girl recoiled, stung, but gathered her courage again immediately.

‘You decide what to do with the knife,’ she objected.

‘I had no choice.’

‘But now you do.’ She bit on her lower slip and frowned.

‘No, I still don’t. If you know, then you must understand. If you really…’

‘Understand what?’

‘How important it is to get to Tula. How important it is for me… As quickly as possible…’

Sasha saw his fingers trembling and a dark patch spreading across his shoulder: she was beginning to feel afraid of this man – and even more afraid for him.

‘You have to stop,’ she told him gently.

‘Out of the question,’ he snapped. ‘It’s not important who does it. So why not me?’

‘Because you’ll destroy yourself.’ The girl touched his hand tentatively and he started, as if he had been stung.

‘I have to. Cowards decide everything here as it is. If I delay any longer, I’ll destroy the whole Metro.’

‘But what if there was another way? If there was a cure? If you didn’t have to do it any longer?’

‘How many times do I have to say it? There aren’t any cures for this fever! Do you really think that I would… That I would…’

‘What would you choose?’ asked Sasha, not letting go of him.

‘There’s nothing to choose from!’ the man with the shaved head exclaimed, shaking off her hand. ‘We’re leaving!’ he barked to the old man.

‘Why don’t you want to take me with you?’ she protested.

‘I’m afraid.’ He said it in a very low voice, almost a whisper, so that no one but Sasha could hear him.

He swung round and strode away, growling curtly to the old man that he had ten minutes before they set out.

‘Am I mistaken or is someone here a bit feverish?’ said a voice behind Sasha’s back.

‘What?’ She spun round and collided with Leonid.

‘I thought I heard you talking about a fever,’ he said with an innocent smile.

‘You misheard.’ She didn’t intend to discuss anything with him right now.

‘And I thought the rumours had been confirmed after all,’ the musician said thoughtfully, as if he were talking to himself.

‘What rumours?’ asked Sasha, frowning.

‘About the quarantine at Serpukhov. About some supposedly incurable disease. About an epidemic…’ He watched her intently, seizing on every movement of her lips and her eyebrows.

‘So how long were you eavesdropping?’ she asked, blushing bright red.

‘I never do it deliberately. It’s just my musical hearing.’ He shrugged and spread his hands.

‘He’s my friend,’ she explained for some reason, nodding in the direction Hunter had gone in.

‘A classy kind of friend,’ he replied enigmatically.

‘Why do you say “supposedly” incurable?’

‘Sasha!’ Homer got up off the bench, keeping a suspicious eye fixed on the musician. ‘Can I have a word? We need to discuss what to do from here on…’

‘Will you let me have just a second?’ said Leonid. Dismissing the old man with a polite smile, he skipped aside and beckoned for the girl to follow him.

Sasha stepped towards him uncertainly: she still had the feeling that the battle with Hunter wasn’t lost yet, that if she didn’t give up now, Hunter wouldn’t have the heart to drive her away again. That she could still help him, even though she didn’t have the slightest idea of how to do it.

‘Maybe I heard about the epidemic much sooner than you did?’ Leonid whispered to her. ‘Maybe this isn’t the first outbreak of the disease? And what if there are some magical tablets that can cure it?’ asked the musician, glancing into her eyes.

‘But he says that there is no cure… That they’ll all have to be…’ Sasha babbled.

‘Liquidated?’ said Leonid, finishing her sentence for her. ‘He… Is that your wonderful friend? Well, that wouldn’t surprise me. But what I’m saying is the opinion of a qualified doctor.’

‘You mean to say…’

‘I mean to say,’ said the musician, putting his hand on Sasha’s shoulder, leaning down to her and breathing gently into her ear, ‘that the illness can be treated. There is a cure.’

The old man first cleared his throat irritably, then took a long step towards them.

‘Sasha! I need to have a talk with you!’

Leonid winked at the girl and moved away from her a little, relinquishing her to Homer with theatrical submission. But she couldn’t think about anything else any longer, and while the old man explained something to her, trying to convince her that Hunter could still be talked round, suggesting and cajoling, the girl looked over his shoulder at the musician. He didn’t return her glance, but the faint ironic smile hovering on his lips told Sasha that he saw everything and understood everything. She nodded to Homer, ready to agree with everything he said, just as long as she could be alone with the musician for another minute and hear him finish what he was saying. Just as long as she herself could believe that there was a cure.

‘I’ll be back in a moment,’ she said, running out of patience and interrupting the old man in mid-word. She slipped off and ran over to Leonid.

‘Back for a second helping?’ he said, welcoming her back.

‘You must tell me!’ she said, no longer willing to play games with him. ‘How?’

‘That’s a bit more complicated. I know the disease is curable. I know people who have beaten it. I can take you to them.’

‘But you said you knew how to fight it.’

‘You misinterpreted what I said,’ he said with a shrug. ‘How would I know? I’m just a flute-player. A wandering musician.’

‘Who are these people?’

‘If you’re interested, I can introduce you to them. We’ll have to walk a bit, though.’

‘Which station are they at?’

‘Not very far from here. You can find out everything. If you want to.’

‘I don’t trust you.’

‘But you want to trust me, don’t you?’ he remarked. ‘I don’t trust you yet either, that’s why I can’t tell you everything.’

‘Why do you want me to go with you?’ asked Sasha, narrowing her eyes.

‘Me?’ he shook his head. ‘It’s all the same to me. It’s you who wants to go. I don’t have to save anyone and I don’t know how to save them. At least, not like that.’

‘Do you promise you’ll take me to these people? Do you promise they’ll be able to help?’ she asked after hesitating for a brief moment.

‘I’ll take you,’ Leonid replied firmly.

‘What have you decided?’ the old man asked insistently, interrupting them again.

‘I’m not going with you,’ said Sasha, plucking at the strap of her overalls. ‘He says there’s a cure for the fever,’ she added, turning towards the musician.

‘He’s lying,’ Homer said uncertainly.

‘I see you know a lot more about viruses than I do,’ Leonid said respectfully. ‘Have you studied them? Or is it from personal experience? Do you also believe that exterminating everybody is the best way of combating the infection?’