“I don’t know. It could go either way. Let’s just get this done so we can go back and give the others some good news. We’re all getting dangerously low with our emotional state.”
They creaked and rattled along, each left pondering their own thoughts. None were particularly good at this stage. There was nothing to see outside but snow, so there was no distraction there. Hamlin wondered what the landscape would present to them once the sun reappeared in the spring. Surely there must be something to break the monotony somewhere in the distance. He missed the sky. He missed grass. He missed trees and birds and barking dogs. He missed warmth. He missed walking outside in shorts and a tee shirt. He made a promise to steer clear of reactionary, knee-jerk decisions in the future. He also made a promise to get down and kiss the ground when he got off the plane at Logan.
“There it is.” Zoya was paying attention by default. She had no choice.
The other Cat sat there idling. That seemed like a good sign. The shed door was hanging open. Hamlin felt mixed about that.
“Stop here!” Lena ordered sharply. “Give us some room to work with. Zoya, you stay in the Cat. Francis, come with me.” She opened her door and slid out. Hamlin did the same.
“Wait.” She pulled off a mitt, then reached over and made an adjustment to his rifle. “Now you’re fully automatic. Be careful if you shoot. A lot is going to happen in a very short time.”
He stared at the open door. “Let’s hope I don’t have to.”
She reached out her hand and put it on his chest just as they were about to take their next step.
“What is that?”
He looked at the ground by the Cat. Drifting had occurred as was to be expected, but there was no doubt that a reddish tinge was present under the upper layer of white.
“Oh, fuck. Is that what I think it is?”
She nodded. “Brace yourself. Let’s go in. If something moves and it’s not one of us, give it hell. Don’t hesitate.”
She was already moving toward the door. She popped her head in and out quickly. Then she repeated the act at a slower pace. Finally, she started to step inside. Hamlin, not really feeling sure of himself, followed nonetheless, fulfilling his backup role.
They stood shoulder to shoulder just inside the doorway and took stock.
“Hey, Barinov! Anybody! Are you in here?”
No response.
“Look.” Francis pointed toward the far generator. He could see a foot protruding into his line of sight.
“Follow me,” Lena snapped. “Remember your weapon. If this goes bad, shoot the hell out of this place.”
They stepped cautiously closer. It didn’t take long.
“It’s Kravchuk,” she whispered, concentrating as much on her peripheral vision as much as what was before her. She was looking for any kind of movement.
His head had sustained some type of horrible injury. There was a huge puddle of blood and quite possibly other parts on the ground. Once again, Francis felt an unreal sensation of terrible disgust and revulsion. He pulled his glove off to get a better grip on the trigger. This was way beyond serious.
“Okay, he’s obviously dead. Let’s find the others.”
Francis was looking off to his immediate right. “Good lord. There’s somebody over there.”
This scene was a mess. Similar to Konstantine, this body had been ripped apart and strew asunder. Hamlin fancied that a suicide bomber would end up looking a lot like this.
“Can you tell who it is?”
Hamlin wasn’t feeling well. “Yedemsky by the boots. Come on. I need to get out of here.”
She hesitated. “What about Barinov?”
“Remember the blood in the snow outside?”
“Okay. Yes, I see what you’re saying. Very well, then. Let’s go.”
Francis shocked himself by being capable of rational thought.
“What about the generators?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know about mechanical things.’ She then seemed to change her mind. “Here, wait.”
She stepped ever so slowly and carefully toward a control panel. She punched a switch and the second generator fired up, causing Hamlin to jump. After thirty seconds or so, the initially running generator switched off. The lights on the panel all appeared to be green.
“That’s what they are supposed to do. Let’s go.”
Now acutely aware of the danger of an ambush attack, Hamlin looked side to side as he walked toward the door.
They stepped outside and Lena slammed the door shut. With the decrease in noise, she could immediately hear screaming. They both whirled toward the direction they had come in from.
Pechkin stood beside the Cat, his attention now turned toward them. Zoya was hysterical inside the vehicle. At least he hadn’t been able to make entry yet.
Lena actually started walking toward him.
“You motherfucker. I’ve had enough of this.”
Pechkin swayed and stared open mouthed.
“Die once and for all, you evil piece of shit!”
She unloaded on him with everything her weapon was capable of. The ear numbing cracks coincided with the holes that were quickly forming on Pechkin’s chest and face. In full auto mode, her weapon was capable of firing at a six hundred round per minute rate. She wasn’t holding anything back.
Pechkin simply fell over backwards. She finally released the trigger. The barrel of her rifle was smoking.
She marched right over and kicked what was left of him in the ribs with her boot.
“I guess you won’t bother us any more, you filth!” She kicked him again.
Hamlin couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say. He simply blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“I guess we know what stops them now.”
Lena was breathing quite heavily. “If we could just find Kuvayev.”
He decided right then and there to never engage her in a gun fight.
“I think we should talk to Zoya. She seems quite upset.”
“Yes. Let’s get out of here. You ride with her and I’ll drive the other Cat back. Give me a minute to reload.”
Hamlin ended up driving. Dr. Grekov was in no condition. Pechkin had scared her good. But she had sustained no injuries. None of them had. And now there was only Kuvayev. Maybe they were getting somewhere.
There was numb resignation when they returned and told their story. Now they were seven. The life had gone out of them in more ways than one.
“Look,” Lena said. They could all fit around one table now so communication was rather easy. “No one can deny that this is bad. But we must have a plan. We must prepare to move forward. We must, at the very least, survive. And we can. It might even be easier now.
“Our supplies will last with no problem. We don’t have to leave the barracks if we choose not to. Both generators are working properly. We are armed and we now know that a gunshot can stop those suffering from whatever this illness is. Besides, only Kuvayev is left. And who knows how much longer he can survive in his condition.
“The doors and windows have been reinforced. We should probably continue to post a watch at least during the night. That way the rest of us can rest easy. We are, I believe, quite secure in here. The building is old, but it is well built. We can survive. We will survive. We know what we are up against and we have only one foe remaining. There should be no more spread of the disease.”
She paused.
“The gun works well. I dropped Pechkin like a sack of potatoes.”
Hamlin had to nod in agreement at this point.
“Just aim high. If anything, we should hope that Kuvayev comes here. One good shot and this will all be over. We will declare whoever takes him out to be Hero of the Russian Federation.” Surprisingly to Hamlin, this caused some heads to nod.
“We are strong. We are secure. We are prepared. Does anyone else have anything they want to say?”