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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Jan 2, 2013 12:56:30 GMT -5
The city was surprisingly quiet, the wind having calmed down during the night. A distant throaty howl echoed through the cold air. Something small and hairless screeched and scuttled away from a lone figure making its way between the rusted car wrecks that clogged the roads around Arbatskaya. The figure, tall and encased from head to toe in heavy black hazmat gear, its face hidden behind the cold tinted lenses of a respirator, glanced around momentarily. The sun was setting, casting its last red rays over the frozen ruins and making the faded red Arbatskaya station pavilion look like a fairy tale castle.
Wordlessly, the hazmat-wearing figure headed towards the pavilion, its boots crunching in the greyish snow. It stepped over a toppled motorcycle, now choked by ice and rust, and reached the rotting wooden doors of the pavilion. Some faded footprints were visible in the snow at the entrance, and the figure looked down at them for a few minutes, almost as if they were the marks of some unknown species. Breaking from its seeming fascination with the bootmarks, the figure entered the station. The great white dome inside the pavilion was still standing, providing good shelter from the elements, but the building was empty. Just like all the other buildings that the figure had seen on its journey through Moscow.
But the city wasn't dead. The living had simply taken to the world of the dead, the man-made underworld that stretched its invisible limbs beneath the dead city. Knowing this, the figure advanced towards the old escalators, now rusted and unstable.
"Someone", said the figure, "had better be down there". Fatigue could clearly be heard in the muffled voice, as well as a certain anxiety. Hesitantly, the hazmat-wearing creature made its way down the escalators. After a harrowingly long and slow descent, it finally reached the bottom and came face to face with a monolithic barrier of steel, a blastproof door.
"Here goes nothing!", said the figure, its voice seeming more fatigued and shaky than it had before. The figure raised a shaking, gloved hand and, after a moment's hesitation, brought it down onto the door's cold surface.
Three knocks, hopefully loud enough for whoever was holed up on the other side of this man-made barrier. With this done, the figure stumbled backwards and waited, in silence, for the door to open.
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Post by Opal on Jan 2, 2013 14:30:10 GMT -5
“Ok so check this shit out. A few weeks back a friend and I were on patrol, you know on one of the more quiet routes. Everything was going fine, nothing out of the ordinary. When suddenly we got cornered out of nowhere by a group of mutants, it happened so fast! It was just the two of us and five of them!” Opal listened with seemingly rapt attention to the guard as he told his story with the other nodding sagely behind him. He emphasized his story with greatly exaggerated and sweeping hand motions that matched the excited tone of his voice.
“Oh, no! What happened? How did you get away?” She asked and placed a hand over her heart gripping the thin fabric of her tank as if gripped by the excitement. He was totally in her grasp she mused, if only he noticed how her lips twitched in amusement. She was here wasting time, having nothing better to do but flirt with the guards, maybe she could get them to buy her a drink later.
“They never had a chance,” the guard’s chest puffed up as he spoke, “Despite their numbers they were no match for the two of us and our firepower. We made short work of them. But I don’t remember there being reports of mutants in that area. I want to be back down there and not here… stuck on guard duty.” The other guard nodded in agreement. Opal glanced at him, chatty fellow, she thought to herself.
“That is troubling news! I’m glad you’re ok.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in slightly, “This underground world we live in just doesn’t have enough good looking and dependable men like you to spare. What kind of mutants where they?”
“Rats.” He answered with a shudder. “Big, giant assed rats.” Opal’s hand dropped from his shoulder and stared at him. It took everything in her not to burst out laughing and covered up her sudden snort with a cough.
“From what I hear R.O.U.S’s are just a myth! To think that they actually exist!” When the man just looked at her she sighed when he didn’t get the reference. Didn’t anybody read any more? Really, The Princess Bride was a classic! But then growing up most people didn’t have access the resources she did, or the libraries.
She was about to enlighten the poor man with the glories that was The Princess Bride when a sudden series of knocks came from the door. The three of them glanced at each other in surprise. They all knew that there were no teams out on the surface due to use that entrance. Quickly dragging on their coats against the cold and secured their masks. Pulling out their weapons the men nodded to each other as Opal stood back with her crossbow ready. They opened the door.
A figure stood in full hazmat gear and took one feeble step before collapsing. Dragging the person carefully out of the way they closed the door again quickly. Rushing forward Opal set her crossbow to the side as she kneeled next to the figure. She didn’t recognize the markings on the suit and immediately knew the implications of that. After a quick glance over she reached to open the helmet.
Inside revealed a woman, her pulse was weak, heavy bags hung under her eyes, and her lips chapped from dehydration. “She needs medical attention. But…” Unwilling to share her concerns with the guards she shrugged instead of finishing her thoughts. “I’ll take care of it.” She said when the first guard came to help her get the woman gently onto one of the emergency stretchers they kept just in case. “Please keep quiet about this for the time being.” With a flirtatious wink she left, woman in tow.
It wasn’t an overly long trip back to the house she lived in and she knew she had been noticed, but she hoped that her coat she had draped over the woman to hide the majority of the suit would keep most suspicions off her back. Once inside she got the heat going and got the woman out of the hazmat and onto the couch. Wrapping her up in a blanket she dribbled water slowly down her throat. The woman seemed to be in a deep sleep rather than unconscious, but still Opal hurried as she changed into jeans and a fresh tank and waited. She was playing her harmonica softly when she noticed movement, her eyes flashed behind thick glasses in the low light as the woman stirred.
“You’re in a safe place, so rest easy.” Opal said softly before the woman could say anything. “My name is Nadezhda Demidov, and you are in my house. Took me longer to get you here after you collapsed at the door then I would have liked, it isn’t every day I drag around woman around my size, but here we are.” Her voice was light and conversational and helped the woman sit up and handed her a glass of water. “Drink slowly. So what’s your name? And if you’re up to it I’d like to know where you’re from… the suit you’re wearing, it isn’t from here is it?”
Sitting back on her heels she was within arm’s reach just in case the woman collapsed again.
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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Jan 2, 2013 15:41:34 GMT -5
Natalya was barely able to take a couple of unsteady steps as the door swung slowly open. Her vision swam, but she could make out vaguely human shapes stirring in her field of vision before she collapsed and everything went black.
"Everything..."
Light almost as bright as the Sun's speared through the sky.
"Everything..."
Dust shot into the air, torn from the Earth by a terrifying force.
"Everything is lost."
The dust was a pillar raised into the blood red heavens. It slowly budded into a characteristic shape, a great mushroom of smoke and dust.
"We're all lost..."
Natalya fell to the rough concrete surface beneath her, her hands closing into fists, her fingers raking across the grey slabs. She vaguely heard someone calling to her in the thunderous uproar that seemed to be shaking everything on the ground. All she could see was that cloud.
And the sky glowed red with the blood of Man.
With a sharp, quick breath she woke. Her eyes fluttered open, pupils retracting briefly before dilating. The first thing that she noticed was that she was in a poorly lit room. The second was that she was lying down. Another breath, longer, noticing the strange and slightly musty smell that seemed to linger here. Not quite the same as the unpleasantly sterile air breathed through a filter or from an oxygen tank, but something else. Earthy, smoky with a little mouldiness and humidity lingering in the background.
With a light groan she turned her head. Every part of her body ached.
“You’re in a safe place, so rest easy", said someone, a woman by the sound of it. Natalya squinted as her eyes got used to the low light. Eventually she found the speaker sitting nearby, holding a harmonica and wearing an odd pair of glasses.
“My name is Nadezhda Demidov, and you are in my house. Took me longer to get you here after you collapsed at the door then I would have liked, it isn’t every day I drag around a woman around my size, but here we are", said the stranger before approaching Natalya, helping her sit up and drink. Natalya had not quite noticed how dry her throat felt. Back on the surface she'd been down to her last tin of purified water.
“Drink slowly. So what’s your name? And if you’re up to it I’d like to know where you’re from… the suit you’re wearing, it isn’t from here is it?”
"Captain Orumov", said Natalya. Her voice came out raucous, almost as if her vocal chords had been rubbed raw. "4th Special State Guards, former 104th Parachute Regiment."
Natalya drank again, shakily taking the recipient from the stranger's hands and messily gulping the liquid down. She hoped the water had been filtered...surely the authorities in the Metro had sufficient equipment to keep their people alive?
"S...sorry", she said, wiping the water dripping from her chin and jaw, "I had only one tin of water left and I finished it before finding this station."
Natalya paused, rubbing her eyes. The water she'd drunk was already restoring some of her former energy, although she still felt very weak.
"Haven't eaten anything decent for a couple of weeks either", she added, "but first I must speak to your commanding officer or your supervisor."
Doubt gnawed at her as Natalya looked around the small room again. The soot on the walls, the lack of electricity, the junk that cluttered the place...something wasn't right.
"You...you do have a supervisor, right?", she asked, a sinking feeling growing in her heart. "Some kind of government official?"
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Post by Opal on Jan 2, 2013 17:50:16 GMT -5
"You...you do have a supervisor, right?" Opal stared at the woman. "Some kind of government official?"
“If you mean me personally, no I have no such superior.” She said after a few moments and paused again to consider her words. Tapping a finger against her nose she looked at the Captain before speaking again. “I’m not sure where you came from Captain but apparently things are not what you’re used to or expecting. It might take a moment for me to explain everything so let me go get you something to eat before I do.” She smiled reassuringly as she stood in a swirl of colorful scarves that habitually adorned her waist. Opal was almost to the door when she stopped and turned. “I took the liberty of finding some clothes that I thought would fit. A little worn, but they’re clean. You should change if you’re up to it, otherwise I can help you when I get back.” And with that she retreated into the darkened hall.
Where in the world did she come from?! Opal thought to herself as she turned on a few lights to illuminate the kitchen. It was a big enough room with a gas stove and a small refrigerator hooked to a generator to keep the contents cool. So the Captain was a decorated military personal from outside the Moscow Metro. “That means there is humanity still alive out there…” She uttered to the silence of the kitchen in shock.
While a little stunned by the day’s revelations she went about the motions of warming some soup from a can. For now it would have to be enough.
“I hope you can forgive the mess.” She said coming back into the room. “I’m still working of fixing it all up to sell or be retrofitted. Here,” handing her guest the bowl she shrugged apologetically, “it’s the best I can do at the moment. So, where to start?” Sitting back into her chair she turned the lamp up sending her features into stark relief. Dark red hair, scared up pale skin, and the muscles of a well conditioned body. But she had nothing on the woman sitting before her.
“If you were expecting a united Russia here in the Metro, you’re going to be sorely disappointed. Currently you are in a section of the Metro known as the Arbat Confederation. It is only one of the many factions that have developed since the fallout.” Opal went on to explain the basic order of events and factions that made up the Metro and answered any questions the Captain had as best she could.
“So I guess this all runs down to who you want to go to? I can get you to the right people here in Arbat or possibly Polis which would also be no problem. I have friends and contacts scattered throughout the friendly stations and even some in the not so friendly. It’s part of my job you see.” Leaning forward she rested her elbows on her knees and her chin came to rest on her upturned palms. “I’m something of a mercenary I guess. Trained for surface exploration originally, but now I also go deep into the Metro or guard trading caravans. Meaning basically I can get you where you need to go and keep my lips zipped about it.”
Silent now she waited for the Captain to mull over all this new information. “I can’t believe there are still people out there.” Opal said softly, almost as if talking to herself. “Most of us think we’re alone, I’m glad to know we’re not.”
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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Jan 2, 2013 18:17:00 GMT -5
Natalya listened in silence, her disappointment growing with every sentence. By the time the stranger had finished explaining things to Natalya, she was staring down at the floor.
“Most of us think we’re alone, I’m glad to know we’re not", said the stranger, which made Natalya feel even worse.
"I'm afraid...you are alone", she said with a sigh. "I came from a shelter in the Ural mountains. We lost contact with all command centres and shelters, even those near us. Then food and water started running out and everything went to shit. I just hoped that the Metro would have lasted a little longer than we did..."
She leaned back a little and gazed up at the ceiling, which was covered in soot and dust. Was this Mankind's only sky now? Her disappointment and shock were slowly replaced by a crushing feeling of hopelessness. Despair flooded her heart, and her exhaustion left her unable to control her feelings on the matter.
"I...can't believe this...it's been twenty years! I was there when the bombs fell, I saw them fall! I spent twenty years locked in a fucking rat hole, with no news of the world, all the while hoping that everything would somehow turn out for the best. Stupid. Stupid. Everything is fucking stupid! I am stupid!"
She forced herself to stop, taking deep breaths in order to calm down. Thankfully it worked, and Natalya soon regained her composure.
"I'm sorry about that", she told her host, "and I thank you for your information and help. I suppose reaching this Polis doesn't really matter any more..."
Natalya now felt empty. All her life she had followed orders, never complaining. Even when she'd come under fire in Chechnya she had stuck to orders, even when her men were dying all around her she had stuck to orders. Now there was nobody left to give her orders, her country was gone and she was alone in the world.
"I...I had a sister in Moscow before the war...she went to university there. I was also hoping that she would have sought refuge in the Metro. Her name is Nadya. You ever heard of her?"
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Post by Opal on Jan 6, 2013 15:02:38 GMT -5
Opal let the woman speak, talking out her frustrations, and the Captain had the right to more than her fair share. And so she did the right thing and listened quietly even though her own emotions were taking a spiraling dive. She covered up her disappointment by drinking deeply from a flask that sat on the small table next to her. The harsh liquid caused her to exhale softly as it burned down her throat.
“Nadya?” Opal asked when the Captain asked about her sister. She was silent for a moment as she pondered it over. Did she know a Nadya Orumov? “I don’t think I know the name but…” suddenly a thought clicked and she covered her mouth with her hand in surprise before letting it drop, “you can’t mean Nadya The Gadiuka Orumov? She’s a drifter who lives in the fringes of what civilized society we have left. She moves around a lot, but the Revolutionaries might have a clue as to her location, if indeed this is the same person.”
She went on to describe the Nadya she knew but stumbled slightly when it came to her eyes. Opal realized that the woman before her wouldn’t know about her sister’s mutation and the reason for her nickname ‘Gadiuka’.
“Now I’m going to show you something,” Opal began somewhat hesitantly, “She is known as Gadiuka for the same reason I am known as Opal.” Turning the lamp beside her down she closed her eyes and removed her glasses cautiously. With a resigned sigh she opened them. Instantly taking in the low light Opal’s eyes seemed to flair up into luminous orbs. Iridescent flecks of light seemed to swirl over the opaque surface. “We have the same mutation,” she said quietly into the darkness, “but they manifested differently. If Opal is the name I got, I can imagine you can picture why she got hers. And it’s not just her eyes that match the name.”
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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Jan 15, 2013 14:53:31 GMT -5
Natalya couldn't help but stare at the two luminous orbs that were her host's eyes. Millenia of evolution clawed its way back to the surface of her being, instilling a strong feeling of fear and revulsion at the sight of the mutation. What Opal said regarding Nadya shook Natalya to the core, tearing her between relief and horror. After a long and agonised silence, the former paratrooper was able to articulate a few awkward words:
"Well...this truly is a different world..."
She nervously ran her dirty hand through her hair, feeling its short, greasy strands beneath her fingers. The shelter she'd spent all those years in had been quite a horrible place, but the Metro was turning up with quite a few unpleasant surprises of its own.
Don't be so fucking ridiculous. You saw people get shot or blown up and you're freaking out over a pair of weird eyes?, she thought, snidely, besides, this is nothing compared to the shit you saw up on the surface, all these fucked up things that circled the APC at night...
Natalya shuddered as she remembered the abominations that roamed freely through what was once Russia. Horrible creatures that half-loped and half-crawled towards her when she ventured out of her APC, horrible things glimpsed through her refuge's hatch.
"I'm happy my sister is still alive", she said, before suddenly changing the subject, "do...do you have any more water? Food? I'll pay for it."
With that, Natalya extracted a wad of old Ruble bank notes.
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Post by Opal on Jan 15, 2013 16:16:22 GMT -5
Opal could only smile sadly. At least the woman’s ‘different world’ comment was more diplomatic then most people’s upon seeing her eyes, and they knew about mutations, this woman didn’t. Her vision was sharper in the dark then most people had in the light and so she noticed the woman’s initial reactions despite her words. Shock, disgust, and fear, but the woman did a good job of handling it. For such a seemingly small thing it was a lot to take in.
As Natalya ran her fingers through her hair, Opal replaced her glasses and turned the lamps back up to a decent level and sat back waiting for her to come to terms with whatever war she was waging with herself.
"I'm happy my sister is still alive", the Captain said at length, "do...do you have any more water? Food? I'll pay for it."
For a moment Opal just stared down at the ball of wrinkled money in surprise. Slowly she reached out and pulled a single bill from the group and smoothed it out in quiet fascination. Turning it over carefully as if she expected it to fall apart in a moment’s notice she examined it very closely. “It’s real.” She breathed in surprise. “My father had one of these that he kept in a glass display, as well as a few other items from the old world, but I can’t remember ever touching one before.”
With an apologetic smile she handed it back. “These lost their value a long time ago. Polis would be the only real place you might could trade them for what their worth.” Opal shrugged, “What I give I give for free. Besides you haven’t got anything besides your weapons and hazmat suit that would be worth anything, and I won’t ask you for them. For now let us get you up and moving, you seriously need a bath… no offence.”
Not giving the other woman a choice she gasped her hand and pulled gently up and lead her through the cramped corridors and into the wash room. It was –besides the kitchen- the cleanest room in the house. The tiles gleamed and the surfaces were freshly scrubbed. Bending down she turned on a gas heater that she had rigged to work with the plumbing and started to fill the tub.
“If we want to find your sister,” Opal said after Natalya had stripped and got in the warm water, “We will have to head down the Hansa Line to Avtozavodskaya station. I’ll show you where that is on a map and you can ask me any questions you may have but for now relax. I’ll fix something up to eat and bring you some of my clothes.” With that she made her quiet exit from the small room.
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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Jan 16, 2013 15:33:56 GMT -5
Natalya blinked and gazed uncertainly at the gleaming white tiles around her. After all the dirt she'd seen and the filthy conditions she'd been putting up with, this incredibly clean room seemed both intimidating and liberating. She slowly got undressed, and approached the tub, which was now filled with a goodly quantity of hot water. She dipped her hand in the water and felt an exquisite shiver go up her arm. Without further ado she stepped into the hot water, picked up a block of soap lying on the edge and started scrubbing at the filth encrusted on her body.
After what seemed to be an eternity spent sloshing in hot water, Natalya found herself looking at her reflection in a cracked mirror that hung on the wall. Her face was emaciated and pale, the lines of fatigue, stress and hunger clearly etched into the skin. Natalya, though, did not react to any of this. Any trace of coquetterie in her had been brutally erased by the war in Chechnya and the subsequent five or six years of privation and isolation in the Urals.
After this quick examination, she slipped back into her old clothes. The old army fatigues smelled and felt awful, but she ignored the disgust she initially felt at having to put them on. Dressed and relatively clean, she left the room and closed the door behind her. As she stood in the main room, she saw her old paratrooper beret sitting on a small table along with her hazmat suit and assault rifle. Slowly and deliberately she picked the sky blue hat up and put it back on her head. She felt some of her old military prestance returning.
"So, Avtozavodskaya", she said, turning to Opal, "I suppose it can only be reached safely via the underground? I didn't see anyone up on the surface."
Thoughtfully she picked up the bank notes she'd tried to pay Opal with. Apparently, these little strips of paper were worthless in the Metro despite having dominated Russia for so long. She really needed to adapt to this strange underground world she'd entered...
"You can keep these if you want", she told Opal.
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Post by Opal on Jan 22, 2013 19:45:57 GMT -5
While Natalya was in the bathroom, washing away what Opal was convinced was week’s worth of dirt and grime, Opal once again busied herself in the kitchen. It had been a long time since the last time she had cooked for two and was sorely out of practice. She wasn’t a very good cook to begin with, she thought with a grimace, and her ingredients were anything but stellar. So all she could do was hope it was edible.
She whistled while she worked, old classic tunes from Classical Composers that she remembered her father listening too on a refurbished wined up record player. Opal seasoned a hunk meat from some indiscriminate source, and laid it to cook over the stovetop. Immediately the sound of sizzling took up with her whistles. As the meat cooked she boiled some water and added mushrooms, Lord knew there were enough of them down here.
By the time her companion exited the bath; Opal had just set the plates down on a small table and sat down to dig in. Taking a thoughtful bite she watched the older woman reclaim her hat in a clipped and precise manner. Well now, Opal thought, the soldier is starting to filter through.
"So, Avtozavodskaya", she said, turning to Opal, "I suppose it can only be reached safely via the underground? I didn't see anyone up on the surface."
Tapping a finger against her thigh she considered her answer and took another bite. It wasn’t so bad, she determined. Opal was about to answer when Natalya handed her the strips of paper, offering them to her.
With a smile she inclined her head in thanks as she took the notes and set them gently next to her plate. “Sit,” she said happily, “It doesn’t taste the greatest but it’s better than the MREs that are usually eaten at this table. Besides you look as though you need a fresh meal, or five, in you.” She waited until the other woman was seated before she spoke again.
“To answer your question, yes there is an underground way there, and a fairly straightforward one at that. And as for seeing anyone on the surface, well you wouldn’t. Those like me that go on the surface on a regular basis stick to our mission and avoid any contact with anything or anybody else, or at least I try too, there are nasty things you run into otherwise.” She said with a shrug, “I’ve seen too many people ripped to shreds by mutants to not step as lightly as I can.” Including my own sister, Opal thought ruefully.
Bending over Opal reached for a rolled parchment in an old umbrella stand she used for maps she straightened again as she unrolled it. “This is a map of the metro that I’ve edited to reflect things as they are. This is where we are,” she pointed to a point and then tapped another, “and this is where we are going. But before we go anywhere you are going to have to do humanity a favor and burn those rags you’re dressed in and change into those.” She said with a laugh and pointed to a pile of clean clothes she had brought out earlier.
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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Feb 1, 2013 16:19:16 GMT -5
After getting dressed, Natalya felt a little more like a human being. The clothes that Opal had given to her consisted in a simple shirt and a salvaged army jacket along with some jeans. She hadn't expected anything new or particularly glamorous; it had been twenty years since she'd seen new clothing, after all.
The two women soon found themselves consulting a map of the metro. It was an old tourist map, the paper yellowed by age and slightly torn and frayed in some parts. Natalya had seen hundreds of these little folding maps back in the day, but just looking at it now made the Metro seem even more alien than before. Many details and annotations had been scribbled onto the little map, service tunnels added here and there in pencil along with warnings and reminders. The Red Line was dotted with hammers and sickles, for some reason, and some areas had the letter "M" written next to them in red ink. Natalya had little doubt as to what the "M" stood for: mutants.
"I used to ride through the Metro", said Natalya while they were looking over Avtozavodskaya, "when I was on leave I'd sometimes go to Moscow and visit my sister. She used to live in this tiny apartment, in a back alley. It was almost a cupboard...only a bed, a shower and a little table with some cooking rings on top. She used to live off pot noodles. She'd invite me to her apartment and we'd stay up all night talking and drinking vodka..."
Natalya's eyes took on a far away look as she spoke. In her mind she could see it all as clearly as if it was yesterday: the small dingy apartment, wallpaper peeling off the walls, the smell of cooking cabbage and beef from across the alley, the constant rumble of traffic, her sister swearing at her malfunctioning mobile phone...
...phone...
"...hello Nadya?"
"Natalya!", came her sister's voice on the other end of the line, "how have you been?"
Natalya heard the rumble of engines and looked up. A military convoy was driving past the little phone cab she was standing in. Drizzle coated the grubby glass and the sky was grey and morose.
"Okay", said Natalya, trying to keep the strain out of her voice, "how have you been? How are your studies?"
"Things are okay here...", said Nadya, hesitantly.
"But?", said Natalya, raising an eyebrow uncertainly.
"Well...it's pretty tense here in Moscow. Just the other day they did a demonstration down in the metro...some evacuation thing. There's soldiers guarding the access to the Kremlin and patrolling the main streets and..."
Natalya said nothing. Few things got her sister riled up, and right now she sounded scared.
"It probably isn't anything important...", she began, trying to reassure her sister, but she was promptly interrupted.
"My neighbour, Oleg, he's got a radio in his apartment. He listens to all kinds of frequencies, and one day...one day he...he heard someone saying something about a 'missile strike'. He said it was a military frequency..."
"Nadya, there's no need to be scared. It was probably not a military frequency..."
"Natyanka, I think there's going to be a nuclear war."
Natalya was dumbstruck. The thought was absurd, the very idea of a nuclear war was ridiculous, and yet...all week they'd been shifting supplies into the shelters around Gora Yamantau, entire convoys driving up and down the mountains day and night. It had never been like this before.
"There can't be a war", said Natalya with a nervous chuckle, "we'd have too much to lose!"
"...too much to lose."
Natalya blinked, her eyes greeted by dirty walls and dim candlelight.
"I'm sorry, I was just remembering something", she told Opal.
Nadya was right. She saw it coming. She knew that we'd lose everything this time. Our cities, our friends, our brothers and sisters, our past, our present and our future. We lost everything.
"We'd have too much to lose!"[/b]
Echoes of the past drifting, fading into obscurity. A dying radio signal in a world of ruins. Natalya shook her head sadly.
"I feel older than the world right now", she said.
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Post by Opal on Feb 7, 2013 16:27:12 GMT -5
Maybe it was inevitable that as her new companion spoke of her sister that Opal would in turn start thinking about her own. Turning her face away from Natalya she brought her emotions under control before her companion could see the grief etched into the very lines of her face. Even after all these years… pathetic. Breathing in deeply she set her jaw and turned.
“Older than the world huh?” Opal said and smiled. “At least you are not like my father. Clinging desperately to the world as it was, his pride being too great to allow for anything else. It is, apparently, for the young to accept the world for what it is and make it better, make it our own. And you, my friend, are not old. Still hope for you yet!” She lightly bounced her fist on Natalya’s head and gave a small laugh before her face became somber and sighed. “But then, I don’t remember the old world, for all I was born and raised in it. So maybe this is all too easy for me to say. Older than the old world perhaps, but for the old world only and it was destroyed, it no longer exists, it’s no longer relevant.”
Her face was a carefully expressionless mask as she shrugged not everyone accepted her views and she didn’t expect them to. Whoever they were before the war is gone, Father, you fool.
Turning away she walked a few steps into the cramped and darkened hallway and removed her glasses. “We’ll leave in the morning. So get some rest, you won’t get much in the coming days.” Opal didn’t turn as she spoke but she tried to inject some of her usual peppy tone, with some note of success. Pocketing her glasses she whistled an old familiar tune as she turned the corner and closed the door to her room. She suddenly felt so tired and worn, she mused as she rubbed a hand over her face. Sitting on her bed she kicked off her shoes and lay down still dressed and was asleep in moments, dreaming of death, blood, fire and the sounds of her sister screaming echoing sharply against her memories.
~*~
“What is this shit?!” Opal’s eyebrow twitched as she surveyed the tunnel before her that was now filled by a cave in. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” She growled and kicked at one of the boulders. It would take days to clear out all this rubble and delay them. They couldn’t afford any delays, Opal thought to herself in irritation as she pulled on the loose ends of the colorful scarves that adorned her waist. Pulling out her map she grumbled further curses in a variety of languages that she had picked up over the years.
“We’re going to have to find a way around this bloody mess, but each way is more dangerous than the next.” Pinching the bridge of her nose above her glasses she glanced at Natalya. “Depending how much you think you can handle will determine how we go on from here.”
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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Feb 13, 2013 6:11:24 GMT -5
Natalya looked away from the shattered concrete and wet earth, the beam of her headlamp shining off the damp, mouldy walls of the small tunnel. Opal had lead her here confidently enough, ignoring the strange phosphorescent mushrooms and large rats that seemed to inhabit the place. It was obviously a path she'd used often before, but Natalya still felt uneasy. The walls, the ceiling and the floor seemed to pulsate in the flash of her lamp, like the intestine of some great and horrible creature. Occasionally she thought she could see the walls closing in, reaching out for her, trying to smother her.
Cold water dripped down her neck with a muffled plop. Natalya started and cursed, wiping her neck dry. As Opal cursed the obstruction ahead of them, Natalya tried to remain calm.
"I survived two wars, I'm pretty sure I can handle what the Metro wants to throw at us", she said.
Liar, she thought.
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Post by Opal on Feb 16, 2013 17:05:52 GMT -5
Opal shifted slightly to view the woman standing behind her and raised one of her eyebrows as if to say, ‘oh really?’ Maybe if the woman had a week of rest under her belt and not a few hours sure, she could probably handle the rigors of the Metro better than Opal, but as it was now? With a silent sigh Opal shrugged her shoulder and turned back to her ill-tempered study of the map.
“We could take another side tunnel,” Opal began softly and shifted her stance slightly to avoid the water that began dripping over her bare shoulder. “But all of the nearest ones I have marked with the letter ‘R’. Which simply means ‘Big Assed Carnivorous and Mutated Rats’, there are probably other things living down there now that I don’t know about. The only other option if we want to avoid going to the surface would be to take the main tunnel.” She wasn’t exactly sure if she could express her nervousness at taking the main tunnel.
With a sigh she sat down on one of the newly fallen boulders, ignoring the damp and grime, and considered her options. She sat for a while and then got up, unable to sit still. After five minutes of irritable pacing and foul mouthed muttering she finally put the map away gently, as if trying to reclaim some of her lost dignity, and heaved out a thunderous sigh.
“Fuck it.” She said with some finality. “We are going to take one of the other side tunnels. At least rats won’t scurry away and report to some unwanted Soviet or Nazi authority. Just… keep your weapons out alright? We’ll have to keep light to a minimum but lucky for you, you got me!” Pulling down her glasses so that they hung around her neck she gave Natalya a wink and started off into a darkened passageway.
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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Feb 18, 2013 15:20:15 GMT -5
Natalya followed Opal into the tunnel, not uttering a word. This tunnel was another maintenance passage; its ceiling lined with rusted pipes and mouldy cables. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, milky white teeth wet with water. Beneath them were little mounds of accumulated minerals, forming ghostly stalagmites. There was a squeak, and Natalya saw a large brown rat observing her from a hole in the wall. Its beady black eyes shone in the glare of her headlamp.
Further on the tunnel lead to a flight of concrete steps slippery with mould. A pale bluish glow seemed to be coming from certain patches of wall and ceiling. Curiously, Natalya ran her hand over one such patch, and her bare fingers came away wet and thick with slimy filth. The glow had come off onto her fingers and revealed itself to be a kind of moss.
Wiping her fingers clean on her trouser leg, Natalya went down the stairs to where Opal stood. The tunnel down there was illuminated by a pale glow emanating from hundreds of phosphorescent moss growths. Natalya reached up and, with a plastic click, switched her headlamp off. For a moment the two women were bathed in the ghostly light. Natalya looked ahead of her and breathed out, her respiration misting in the cold damp air.
"I have to admit...", she whispered, "even with all the shit I've seen, there is still some beauty left in the world..."
She blinked. It was an oddly philosophical thing for her to say, the sort of thing Nadya would come up with. Was she becoming more like her sister? She shrugged the strange thought away and switched her light back on.
The pair moved on down the tunnel, encountering nothing but rats and the occasional pile of forgotten trash. At one point they came across a section where the ceiling had partially caved in, leaving nothing but a small crawl space. Opal went through first and Natalya followed after shoving their equipment through. As they progressed, the tunnel grew progressively quieter and eerier. The squeaks of rats had all but ceased, and Natalya noticed that her companion seemed on edge. Opal kept stopping to listen and look ahead, and this in turn made Natalya uneasy. Despite this, however, her old "ambush sense" remained disturbingly quiet. This sense of sorts had always been right back in Chechnya, when rebels were preparing to ambush her column. Her gut would twist into a tight knot while her chest became heavy and tight, a heavy feeling of dread and unease settling over her soul...
And as the two women rounded a corner, Natalya stopped.
"You...you hear that?", she asked, her voice strangely thin in the cold, still air of the tunnel.
She cocked her head and listened. She could definitely hear something. A low humming sound, or perhaps a vibration. Natalya looked around her, trying to locate the source of the sound. The sound grew slowly louder, rising in pitch until Natalya suddenly realised that it was in her ears and in her mind.
"What...", she said before raw, crushing fear fell upon her. Eyes wide and haggard, she looked around her, panic and confusion rising within her. Where was she? What was she doing? Who was she? She raised her dirty hands to her face and ran them down over her eyes and cheeks, leaving trails of black wet grime on her sweating skin.
And then she heard Them. Voices emerged from the dull, vibrating drone that filled her mind and ears. Some chatted and laughed, others groaned, cried and screamed. Some she understood while others were garbled and incomprehensible muttering. Her vision swam, shadows ressembling people danced and leaped before her terrified eyes.
"Do you hear them??", she cried, spinning around. Tears glistened around the edge of her eyes. "Do you hear them?? So...so much sadness and pain...it's terrible..."
Unfeeling and unseeing, she dropped to her knees and clamped her hands over her ears. Blood trickled thinly from her nose. Her mind was flooded with distress, pain and fear so deep that she wanted to scream and tear her hair out. Block out the terrible anguish with physical pain.
"SHUT UP! PLEASE! GO AWAY!", she screamed.
END IT NOW! MAKE THEM GO AWAY!
She reached for her rifle and found nothing. Her AK had dropped from her arms when she stumbled around. Hands shaking she scrabbled for her pistol, struggling with the button that held her holster closed.
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