12th July 2013
'Antonov must die'. That was the graffiti me and Vlasov found on the way to my office, daubed in five foot high letters across the floor of the Atrium in red paint, the brush strokes jagged, as if they had been carved into the concrete.
"Shit, somebody's going to take the leap of faith for this." Vlasov muttered angrily, glancing for a second at the now empty nooses hanging from the catwalks above.
"Can't blame whoever wrote it…" I whispered softly, checking to make sure nobody was listening, but we were alone, most personnel already at their posts or stuck doing endless drills down in the barracks. "Yesterday was just barbaric."
But Vlasov only shrugged.
"Just keep your head down sir, that's all I can say."
As we walked away, I remembered a quote from some historic politician that seemed to perfectly sum up our current situation.
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.
The rest of the day I was filling out endless reams of paperwork-even the apocalypse couldn't stop that- mostly more weapons and ammunition for the Spetnatz guarding the exits, but, as I finished an order for more canned meats to the main food store, one item request caught my eye. It was sent from maintencace, needing something to clear some blockages that had emerged in the ventilation systems over the last few days. It couldn't be anything from outside of course, the whole bunkers completely sealed off from the nuclear wasteland out there.
It's probably just some crap from the septic tanks or waste disposal, far as I can tell. Although what sort of waste is luminescent green and transparent? And why the fuck do they need flamethrowers to clear it?