Тодд Марко - Apocalypse Underground

Sergio shook his head nervously, trying to find words to reassure the man that he would be okay. He had filters to spare, but not another mask. His mind raced, wondering where the other Hunters were and what had happened to them where he couldn’t see.

“Wh-what about the others?” He squeaked, motioning in the direction they had come from.

“They were… pinned down across from me, but they were very close to the gate.” The man stopped walking and doubled over in a fit of coughing. “Don’t go back there, there’s another way. Listen. Keep heading down this road for three blocks, then turn left. There will be the entrance to Venice there.”

“That’s not too far, we can make it together!” Sergio pleaded, recognizing the man’s difficulty and feeling the actuality that he would not be accompanying him back to the Subway.

“It’s a free station, but make yourself known so they know you’re not a mutant.” The Hunter held an arm out, looking for stability as he sat down.

It was then that Sergio was sure that he would be going alone; tears began to well in his eyes, although he didn’t know the man at all. He thought he should offer him something, some kind of comfort or parting words, a thank you even for dragging him out of the fight.

“Radio back to Polis when you arrive.” The man was now wheezing between breaths. “Take this.”

For a moment Sergio was expecting a mysterious cartridge message capsule, but instead the man gave him his pistol, a worn Tokarev with a reflexive sight.

“What is your name?” Sergio couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Senya, well, Semyon Antonovich. I don’t have any family anymore, so don’t you pity me.” Senya closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was falling asleep, then growled intensely. “Now go!”

Sergio nodded, stepping back reluctantly. Senya waved his hand at him, urging him to leave and save himself. He turned his back and took a few steps, but then looked over his shoulder again.

“Novo—”, he sputtered, “Kuznet-skaya!” Senya’s body relaxed.

Sergio ran, avoiding the cracks in the pavement beneath his boots; watching carefully that his path was clear by the eerie light of the moon. There were no clouds now, and the night was black and lifeless. Three blocks, three side-streets away he turned left as he was instructed and another block down was a sign for the Subway. Its crooked red M almost infuriated Sergio, although it was his home. He had come to resent it after all he had experienced there, but the surface was becoming an equal pain in his side. It seemed there was no end to death and violence no matter where he went.

Frustrated and poignant tears streamed down his face now as he ran down the steps of the escalator and pounded on the heavy iron door that separated him from the bowels of the city. A red light came on, flashing, and he heard the motor start up. The heavy barricade moved aside and he nearly fell over as he stumbled inside, holding his head in his hands, trying to get a hold of himself before he had to explain the situation.

“Woah there friend, what’s going on out there? Must have been some shit!” Spoke a smooth masculine voice. Sergio could only guess it was a guard on duty, although the man wore plain and baggy clothes. Two other men stood nearby, machine guns at the ready, but they weren’t pointing at Sergio.

“We were attacked. Watchmen. Oktyabrskaya.” Sergio choked.

“Oktyabrskaya, you ran all the way here from there?” One of the other men spoke, relaxing his grip on his weapon and instructing the other man to go and close the door.

“I-I need to send a message. Radio.” Sergio stammered, out of breath, trying to regain balance over his emotions and his lungs.

“Sure, sure, man. Just calm down and we’ll get what you need.” The strange new face patted him on the shoulder, nudging him to have a seat in a small booth by the door that had slammed shut again.

A good twenty minutes passed as Sergio regained his composure and explained, in short, what had happened to their squad on the surface. His new friend, calling himself Valya, listened intently as if he’d never had such an adventure before, even though the story ended in tragedy.

“So I need to send them a message, tell them I am okay and what happened; that I will make it back to them soon.” Sergio took a deep breath in after expelling that long sentence from his lungs.

“Yeah, sure.” Valya clapped a hand to Sergio’s shoulder. “I’ll let Sasha know and he’ll pass it on okay? But you should get some rest, yeah? You’re welcome to stay here of course.” He stood up and offered Sergio a hand.

He was lead to a small guest room that was set up in one of the service passageways underneath the main platform. Inside the room there was nothing but a sagging cot and an oil lamp. It looked plenty cozy to Sergio, who fell into it immediately, letting his rucksack fall onto the floor beside him. Valya reassured him that all would be taken care of and to get some rest, and that he’d be welcome to share a meal with him when he awoke. With no strength left to refuse or to question, Sergio was asleep in minutes without another care in the world about what would happen next.

What seemed to him like two days later, Sergio was just beginning to show consciousness. He checked his watch, quarter to ten in the morning. He felt rested, having been too exhausted from the previous day’s activities to have had the capacity for any dreams and so he was relieved. He felt his stomach rumble, and then immediately began to feel guilty. He thought of Senya, resting peacefully against the shell of an old car. Would anyone go back for him? He wondered about Valya, if his radio message had been sent, and also if he was still welcome to breakfast.

Lifting the rag that served as the door to the small room, he took a long stretch and then looked to both sides of the hallway in search of his acquaintance. Finding no sign of anyone except for a few children playing, he wondered where to go. It seemed a similar setup to his home in Exhibition, with the residential rooms built beneath the platforms in the service areas. He seemed to remember coming into the station from the right, and passing nothing last night of much significance, he deduced that the offices and common areas had to be on the left in the main vestibule. Pondering for a moment if his rucksack could be left behind while he tried to track down Valya, he quickly decided against it and slung it over his shoulder. He knew he couldn’t stay, especially if the message had gone through – he had to follow it. He had to get back to D6, at least to see if Maro had made it back, too. Heading down the hallway to the left and up the narrow concrete stairs, he reached a man-made enclosure which forced him to turn right into the main vestibule. Here there was a communal fire with several people gathered here and there talking in groups. He didn’t need to search their faces for long.

“Sergio! Over here.” Called the now-familiar voice of Valya, and he headed towards the sound. “Come have some sausage and egg. I want you to meet my friends.”

Friends? Sergio thought it was a nice notion, but knowing all too well his penchant for getting into trouble he hesitated. They were very close to bandit territory and the front lines between the different clans of the criminals shifted every day. Ultimately his stomach drove him on.

“Before you ask, I did indeed send your message to Polis.” Valya winked but then lowered his brows. “No response, though.”

“Hello Sergio, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Nikolai Ryzhov, and this is my twin brother Dmitri Ryzhov.” Spoke a fresh faced young man with shaggy brown hair and long stubble. He gestured to another young man sitting across from him with similar features, but with no beard and dark hair shaved extremely short.