500th metre North of Savelovskaya
Fear, Fear can define a man. Although it is not the capacity to feel fear itself that defines a man, no, what separates a man is how he faces his fears, if he can face them at all.
"So what are you afraid of?" A voice intruded Nikolai's thoughts. He looked around slowly as though he had been awakened from a deep slumber. He looked over at the man who had directed the conversation his way, Pyotr, who was staring back intently.
"Running into your sister on the platform at night, she is one ugly broad." Mikhail, one of the other sentries bellowed, drawing an angry look from Pyotr, and sparking bouts of laughter from as far back as the 400th metre: voices carry in the metro.
Nikolai was relieved that Mikhail had stepped in and drawn attention away from himself. Whenever Nikolai was put on watch at the 500th metre he liked to withdraw into his own thoughts and wait for his shift to be over in his mental solitude. He shifted the sub-machine gun off of his shoulder and rested it across his lap. After checking to make sure the safety was on, he let himself lean back against the side of the tunnel and pulled his old weathered wool cap down low over his eyes. He wouldn't let himself fall asleep but he trusted the others to keep a close eye on the northern tunnel.
Nikolai awoke with a start, a cold draught seemed to materialize out of nowhere, it blew through the tunnel and extinguished the watch fire. Complete dark surrounded him.
He fumbled nervously with his flashlight clicking it on and casting a pitiful beam of light back and forth, his hand trembled as the pure dark seemed to greedily swallow up the light. The inky darkness refused to let Nikolai illuminate any of its secrets.
Nikolai turned with a jerk as a small crunch sounded from behind him. As he turned he noticed the bodies of the men he had shared the watch with; Pyotr and Mikhail lay lifelessly, cold, and stiff. All colour drained from Nikolai's already pale face. He quickly scooped up his sub-machine gun and groped the weapon clumsily looking for the safety switch. The trembling young man then turned his weapon and flashlight back toward the Northern mouth of the tunnel, fear gripped his heart and paralyzed his legs. The thudding of boots on rail ties came from behind him, he turned around wildly, letting a couple of rounds fire off as he spun. No one was there.
He glanced around again, something seemed wrong but sleep still clouded Nikolai's mind. It was not until his headlamp swept across the battered stools and chairs again did he realize the bodies of his watchmates were missing.
Nikolai whipped his head back and forth. His eyes widened with fear and adrenaline drove his heart into a frenzy. The strange supernatural wind picked up again, it whipped past him tousling his hair. Nikolai swore he had heard someone whispering with the wind, but he could not make out what the mysterious voice was saying. Then an obnoxious smell filled his nostrils: a smell so rancid that it clouded his thoughts and caused him to dry-heave.
More whispers, more stench.
The hairs on the back of Nikolai's neck stood on end and he got the feeling he was being watched, something moved in the very corner of his vision.
"Who's there?"
"No one." The response came from right beside his ear, Nikolai could feel the hot, breathy words on his neck. He yelped in fear and spun in a full circle holding down the trigger of his automatic, firing off rounds in all directions.
He stood alone again, the smell had become over powering, he had to drop to one knee and hold his sleeve up to his nose. The whispers kept growing in volume and numbers until so many voices whispered so loudly that they even blocked out the smell. Nothing existed anymore except the whispers. Nikolai slowly and deliberately inserted a new magazine into his sub-machine gun, then he slowly turned the barrel of the weapon and put it firmly in his mouth.
"DO IT!" Screamed the voices in unison. "Join us! NOW!"
Nikolai pulled the trigger.
He screamed and jolted upright. Everyone was staring at him: Mikhail, Pyotr, and even the three men that had come to replace their watch. All of them looked a little uneasy, like they were face to face with a feral animal.
"Being alone." He said softly more to himself than anyone else.
"What?" Pyotr asked nervously.
"I'm afraid of being alone, the tunnels-" He paused trying to find the words. "The tunnels know when you're alone, they speak to each other through the pipes." he said as he gestured toward the labyrinth of pipes and tubes that ran along the sides of the walls. "They wait until the perfect moment and then they strike. The Metro doesn't care if you're old, or young, or if you're strong, or frail, if it gets a chance to kill you, you're gonna die."
A suffocating silence filled the space, even the fire seemed to burn without so much as a crackle. Nikolai felt stupid for his outburst. He silently stood and began to pack his things for the walk back to Savelovskaya. The others watched quietly for a minute and then followed suit. They walked back to the station in silence, all of the other watches had been changed already and the sombre party nodded a silent hello to each new man they passed. Except Nikolai who marched on with his head down, he was to engrossed in his own thoughts to even notice the others.
Savelovskaya
Savelovskaya was a relatively unremarkable station. After passing the piles of sandbags and flamethrower positions, Nikolai climbed up onto the main platform. He plodded along past plain green army tents and the stern faced denizens of the dark station. Timiryazevksaya; one of the stations North of Savelovskaya was overrun by rats fifteen or so years ago. The rats killed almost all of the inhabitants of Timiryazevksaya and Dimitrovskaya. Only a hand cart had escaped: saved by Savelovskaya's flame throwers, on the cart there had been a young boy about Nikolai's age at the time. They didn't stay long and Nikolai never got to meet him. Although Nikolai always remembered him for some reason, as if he held some sort of significance.
Beyond those stations were more uninhabited stations and a tunnel that opened up to the surface with no functioning hermetic door, this left it open to mutants. Savelovskaya was the frontier of its line and therefore it saw plenty of attacks from mutants at the Northern tunnel. The people had become hardened as a result.
Red emergency lights illuminated Nikolai's way as he worked through the sea of tents to the community fire at the centre of the platform. Some of the other men who had been on the other watches in the tunnel were already there, they grew silent as he approached, he received looks of pity and fear, along with mocking and curious glances. Voices and rumours travel in the Metro he thought to himself bitterly.
Nikolai could feel his ears go red of embarrassment, and he decided against joining the group. Without a word he turned around and walked briskly back to his own tent. He flopped his body down onto the hard cot and he quickly succumbed to sleep. No dreams tormented him this time and he slept soundly.
The Winking Nosalis Pub
Nikolai entered the only restaurant in the Savelovskaya station: The Winking Nosalis. It was a grungy little pub filled with old wooden tables and stools. The ceiling of the makeshift wooden building was stained black with soot. Greasy Blue smoke fluttered through the air from the various oil lanterns spread across the room.
Behind the bar stood a portly older woman with dark red, short hair. She fluttered her eyelids, which had far too much blue eye-shadow, at any man seated nearby while she dried an old mug. Laughter and voices resounded within the small space. A woman pushed past Nikolai roughly as she made her way over to scold her husband for being late, drawing more laughter and sarcastic comments from the crowd.
Nikolai wormed his way through the crowded space looking for his friend: Artyom. Artyom and Nikolai always met at the bar before Nikolai left for a shift on watch. He didnt like to think of it as 'one last drink just in case' but sometimes it felt that way.
Artyom and Nikolai had become fast friends from the first day Nikolai's Uncle had brought him to Savelovskaya. Artyom's father, Boris, was the administrator of the station and he held a high opinion of Nikolai which helped to solidify their friendship.
Nikolai sat down at an empty table in a secluded corner of the pub. From his perch he could watch the other patrons, which was his favourite part of coming here. After sitting down, a blonde wench with to much makeup and not enough clothes worked her way over to his table. She wiggled her hips dramatically as she walked, and pushed her bust forward. Nikolai took no notice of her efforts. After ordering a jar of home brew from the wench, Nikolai watched as she swayed her way through the crowd maintaining her unnatural looking posture the whole while.
"Nikolai!" Artyom's voice barely carried through the rabble of the bar. Nikolai looked around and saw a hand waving through the crowd as Artyom made his way over. "Not the usual table? I almost didn't see you over here."
"I don't feel like being around other people right now."
"I heard about your outburst in the tunnel last night." He paused uneasily. "Are you okay?" Artyom looked at Nikolai with genuine concern. Nikolai avoided eye contact. He was felt embarrassed again. "You don't have to answer." Artyom trailed off and began scanning the crowded pub.
Nikolai looked down into his bitter drink. He watched as the bubbles rose lazily to the surface of the murky liquid. The bubbles would cling together as if afraid and then slowly one by one, they would separate and carve their own path through the drink. Eventually reaching the surface and then bursting. Nikolai could see similarities between the bubbles and the humans clinging to life in the metro: At first the people band together afraid of the future. They look for comfort in each others embrace simply because they are of the same species. Then they separate because they realize even though they are similar, they are not the same. They believe in different things, and they decide that some are better than others for the pettiest of reasons. Rifts are created and then they each go their own ways. In the end, the bubbles all end up in the same place: burst and dead. Just like the inhabitants of the Metro.
"Hey Nikolai! You listening chuvak?" He looked up and saw Artyom looking back expectantly.
Artyom must have seen the nonplussed look on his face because he sighed and repeated himself: "My father said that there are a couple of stalkers in the station today. They're looking to recruit a local guide to go on an expedition with them up on the surface." He paused looking for a reaction on Nikolai's face. "I Put your name forward, they're going to come speak with you on your watch shift tonight."
"Why would you put my name forward? I have no real military training or any experience on the surface."
"You're the one who's always saying you want more adventure in your life, plus you've always got your nose stuck in those old maps, day dreaming or whatever. You ask every trader that comes through if they've heard any new stories, or if any stalkers are coming this way, and now I'm giving you a chance to become a real stalker and you're gonna bitch out on me? Besides, I've seen you shoot: you're a crack shot for someone with 'no military training.'" Artyom added air quotes and a mocking tone; trying to get a rise out of his friend.
It was true. Nikolai had become obsessed with the surface, or more specifically with stalkers at a very young age. He had always looked up to his father Dmitri who, had been a stalker before he died when Nikolai was only four.
"I'm just not sure I'm the right guy. That's all." Nikolai tried to sound uninterested. "I don't have any real training or anything."
"You already tried that excuse." Artyom pointed out irritably as he scratched the rough stubble on his chin. He sighed dramatically and pushed his hair away from his eyes. "Well one's called Marshall and i think the other one just goes by Captain, I'm not sure if that's a rank or nickname or what. Anyway they are going to come talk to you tonight. You can tell them you want nothing to do with the mission then."
"It's not like that, I-" Nikolai tried to speak but was interrupted by Artyom.
"I don't want to play messenger anymore, you can talk to them yourself." Artyom stood: clearly disappointed with his friend's reaction. "I'll see you around Kolya." He said glumly and started to exit the pub. He paused mid-stride and looked back to his friend still sitting at the table "Don't let fear of failure stop you from chasing the things you really want in life." Then Artyom left before Nikolai could find a response.
500th metre North of Savelovskaya
Nikolai's watch shift began like every other: he met his partners at the gatehouse with the flamethrowers and they quietly trudged out the 500th metre together. This was followed by six hours of conversation that Nikolai did not engage in and awkward silences.
Nikolai kept an eye on the tunnel to the South, no sign of the stalkers yet: he was getting restless.
The seventh hour was approaching fast when suddenly the sound of boots on railway ties could be heard approaching, but Nikolai was unsure of which direction it had come from. He rose to his feet slowly as memories of his nightmare from last watch jumped to the forefront of his mind. His companions did not seem to hear anything. A terrible feeling seeped its way into Nikolai's stomach: it was fear, but not normal fear. This kind of fear made his knees itch, he wanted to break position and run but he couldn't. His fellow guards looked at him curiously; they spoke to him but Nikolai could not hear their words, only his pounding heart and a strange distant buzzing. More footsteps. His heart jumped into his throat.
"W-who's there?" He managed to stutter weakly. Silence. "Hello?" more silence. The other guards turned their ears to the tunnel: straining to hear whatever Nikolai had heard. The silence lasted an eternity Nikolai stood like a sentinel with his automatic trained on the inky blackness of the tunnel.
"Hello there!" a gruff voice called out from behind him: Nikolai jumped in fear. He turned slowly, two men in protective suits stood before him. The stalkers had arrived.
Both men were a full head taller than Nikolai, their muscular figures could be made out even under the loose fitting protective suits. The one that had introduced himself as Marshall had strong features and a shaved head with a long scar following the curvature of his face above his left eye-brow. The other stalker: Captain, had a shock of thick red hair and startling green eyes, his accent sounded American.
"Nikolai" Marshall paused to light a cigar. "We were told by a mutual friend that you knew the areas around Savelovskaya better than anyone else in the station."
"This is the furthest I've ever been away from the station." Defiance slightly permeated his words but it was unintentional.
"That's not what he asked." Captain said sternly but quietly, clearly disapproving of Nikolai's tone. Nikolai looked at him uneasily. Not wanting to provoke the stalker he cleared his throat:
"I have studied a lot of maps and I've heard a lot of stories but I have no real experience past the 500th metre." Nikolai rubbed the back of his neck and looked at his boots, he suddenly felt self conscious about his inexperience.
"Artyom also said you were an excellent marksman."
"He has the best range score in the whole guard!" One of the other guards said excitedly: Nikolai shot him a venomous glance, although he was unsure why. Usually that fact was a source of great pride for the young man. Marshall whistled to show how impressed he was; it seemed sort of exaggerated to Nikolai.
"Fuck lets sign him up right now!" Captain made no attempt to hide his sarcasm. "Look kid you're the best shot out of a bunch of back water hicks. That's great for you, but the surface ain't no firing range. Everything is always moving and always trying to kill you." He put emphasis on the last couple words. Marshall raised a silencing finger:
"Easy Captain I think our new friend has some real promise." Marshall continued speaking, but Nikolai could not hear him: the distant buzz had returned.
Nikolai rose to his feet and slowly started pacing toward the open mouth of the tunnel, he was getting that strange feeling that something was wrong in the tunnel. The buzz seemed to call to him; he moved outside of the ring of light cast by the fire.
"Kolya what is it?" A voice called out from the fireside: Nikolai couldn't hear anything other than the buzzing. The sound seemed to run away whenever he got to close, almost as if toying with him.
"Watch out!" The same breathy voice from his dream whispered into his ear, Nikolai dropped to the ground just as a nosalis launched itself toward him. Nikolai rolled and jumped to his feet as a whole pack of nosalises came charging around the corner.
"Snouts! look out!" Nikolai called back to the group at the watch fire. A signal bell rang out in the distance.
The next few moments were a blur of gunfire and shouting to Nikolai. He Remembered running and shooting. Then he could remember nosalises charging around the station while the guards tried to create an effective defence. The commotion was overwhelming
Suddenly Marshall's voice rang out clearly through the rumble of gunfire and the screams of humans and nosalises alike. "The boy!". Nikolai followed Marshall's pointing finger to see a young boy of no more than six standing and crying in the middle of the platform alone. Without thinking Nikolai dashed toward the boy and put himself between the child and the nearest nosalis. Training his weapon on the creature: he killed it with a short burst. But while his attention had been elsewhere the boy had tried to escape and was cornered by a mutant. Nikolai ran headlong toward the pair and threw himself onto the creature just as it leaped toward the young boy. Nikolai drove his trench knife into the nosalis' head.
Marshall didn't have time to stop the shot, it connected with both Nikolai and the nosalis. The creature was already dead by the time the buckshot hit its mark, but Nikolai took the brunt of the shot to his side and he fell to the ground limply. Marshall looked at the young man with regret but went to the young boy and carried him to safety before returning to aid the rest of the guard.
Run. Jump. Stab. Excruciating pain. Nikolai lay on the ground gasping for air. He watched the red emergency lights blink in rhythm. Blink. Red like his blood pooling around him. Blink. It's like the lights don't even care I'm bleeding out. Blink. I don't want this pain anymore, just to sleep. Blink. Sleep. Blink.
Mendeleevksaya
Nikolai awoke in a bed: a real, soft, mostly white bed. He looked around groggily, his eyes fell on Artyom sitting next to him with his head in his hands. It had been three days since Artyom had shaved and even longer since he had eaten a real meal.
"Oh god we didn't hook up did we?" Nikolai's throat was dry and the words came out raspy, Artyom looked over at him and a smile cracked his lips.
"I'm sure you've woken up next to uglier." Artyom laughed and patted his friend on the arm.
"where am I? What happened? The nosalises!" Nikolai tried to sit up but his injured body screamed in protest.
"Are dead, the stalkers were a big help. I mean they'd have to be right? One of them almost killed you. You've been in and out for four days."
"Oh." Nikolai soaked in Artyom's words trying to lift the fog from his brain. "But where am I?"
"Welcome to Hanza my friend!" a third voice chimed in from the doorway, it was Marshall. "Captain and I carried you here to receive the best treatment we could arrange. How are you feeling?"
"Sore." Nikolai gritted his teeth as he tried to sit up.
"Stay down and rest. You're a hero Kolya you saved that boys life." Marshall said with pride, he patted the wounded man on the shoulder drawing a slight grimace from Nikolai. "I'll come back and check on him in a while, let him rest." Marshall said to Artyom as if Nikolai was no longer in the room. Then the stalker turned on his heel and left soundlessly.
"He's a strange one." Artyom said quietly.
Marshall exited the small room and met Captain in the hallway.
"Well, I guess we try to find another man." Captain said annoyed.
"No way. He's the one we need, give him a day. We need to get him equipped anyway." Marshall looked back into the small room from the doorway watching to the two young men laugh and talk contently.
A couple of hours later Marshall entered Nikolai's room in the infirmary to find the young man sitting by himself reading a tattered book.
"Marshall?" Nikolai said with surprise. "I thought you would have left on your expedition by now."
"Not yet. I'm waiting for the third man of my team to recover." Marshall chuckled slightly as he sat down next to the bed. "Artyom is a good friend. He didn't leave your side the whole time." He observed aloud.
"My best friend." Nikolai corrected him. "He would die for me if I asked him to." Marshall nodded as if this confirmed something, although Nikolai had no idea what it could be. "Why do you want me to join you so badly? I'm sure there are better candidates here in Mendeleevskaya."
"Perhaps, but when I saw you selflessly throw yourself into the fray for that boy. I realized that you are the kind of man who makes the best stalker. The good stalkers do it for the others around them. They want to help people, and then there are others who do it for themselves: they love the looks of adoration and the fame."
Nikolai nodded his head thoughtfully as he absorbed everything the stalker said. Marshall had a certain air about him, Nikolai desperately wanted the older man to like him.
"What is it you're looking for up there?" He inquired unsure of how Marshall would react to his probing.
"Some colleagues of mine found something in the great library that mentioned a top secret science facility near here. We think whatever is held within this facility could prove invaluable to the order and The Metro as a whole."
Nikolai sat in silence pondering what the stalker had said.
"You could sense the danger couldn't you?"
"What?"
"The other day. When we were at the 500th metre and the nosalises attacked. You knew they were coming long before they arrived. You stood and went to investigate, the rest of us didn't hear anything. That kind of tunnel sense is a rare talent. Some men pick it up over time, but to be born with it is a gift." Nikolai smiled proudly at Marshall's last words.
"It's kind of hard to explain, I didn't actually hear anything. It's more like a gut feeling. I guess that sounds kind of weird."
"Not at all. I any case I have purchased some equipment for you, its yours whether you decide to join us or not. I guess I kind of owe it to you. I did almost blow you away back in Savelovskaya." Nikolai laughed which caused a fit of coughing, Marshall frowned slightly as spittle and blood sprayed the white sheets.
Savelovskaya
Almost exactly twenty-four hours later: Nikolai stood next to the familiar sand-bags and flamethrower positions at the entrance to his home station. Savelovskaya looked like a war-zone, bullet holes and blood were scattered around everywhere. The smell of burning flesh wafted in from the 750th metre where a huge bonfire had been started to cremate the corpses of the monsters. And yet, the inhabitants of the station had already returned to their daily lives.
"You look pale boy, you okay?" Captain said roughly but not unkindly: his attitude had changed since the mutant attack.
"Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Just anxious to get going." Nikolai said unconvincingly as he lit a cigarette with shaky hands. Captain chuckled slightly and looked at Marshall who was fiddling with his gloves.
"Ready?"
"Ready." And with Marshall's signal they departed Savelovskaya and entered the tunnel, only 500 metres of civilized territory between them and an alien world that their ancestors had once been the undisputed rulers of.