Chapter 27: Project Janissary

A lie told often enough becomes the truth.

- Vladimir Lenin

Mikhail's Journal 06.10.2010

Ever since the day I woke up in hospital from a coma, I have tried to put lost memories together, who am I and why me? Out of all the people my age who lived in Russia, why was I one of the chosen ones? Why was I picked to become a soldier or yet why was I picked to become a sleeper agent? It was never my dream to join the military nor was it my intention to learn how to fight, it was an occupation that I was forced into against my will.

Ever since I was issued these assignments was I aware I carried them out while being devoid of consciousness and autonomy. It deeply concerned me how many I killed whenever I was carrying out a mission and I was in a trance, this felt like waking up from a hangover and not knowing the mayhem you caused the night before. Only when I found a way around these trances could I become a soldier who fought to protect the ones he loves and at his own whim.

On this particular day after an awkward reunion with my father would I learn who I am and what I am a part of.

"Mikhail, you know this man?" inquired Madison.

"Da, he's my father," I answered, still pinning my father to the ground who looked up at me with scorn.

"Get off me, Mikhail," growled my father in my language. I released my father and allowed him to get back on his feet now that the situation has been defused with the arrival of the community police. "So you made it. Not in one piece of course."

"What do you mean?" I perplexed.

"Your face, what the fuck have you been doing, smoking in bed?" questioned my father.

"Nyet, car accident."

"Right... car accident," my father sounded like he didn't believe me, which made me question whether he ever did visit me in the hospital. "Listen Mikhail, I don't appreciate you sticking your nose in my business. I'm in charge here," snarled my father, pointing his finger at me. Immediately I could smell the horrid fetor of alcohol mixed with tooth decay, it was enough to make me lose my dinner. Before he could get within arms length, Madison stepped in to push him away.

"Okay that's enough, Mikhail's father," asserted Madison.

"Nicholai," confirmed my father.

"Right... Nicholai. I think it's time to go home," suggested Madison, looking into my father's mean eyes showing no fear.

"You think I take orders from a lady? You're dead wrong. No lady orders me about."

My father got more aggressive and was about to lean himself into Madison who just looked at him not feeling intimidated and ready to take him on should he get violent with her. Before he could get physical with her, two police officers grabbed him behind and pulled him away.

"Okay Nicholai, it's time to go home," authorized one of the officers restraining him.

"You dare touch me. Do you know who I am? I work for the district attorney. When I tell him he'll have your badges," intimidated my father.

"Well not if we tell the district attorney about your behavior you won't. Either you spend the night in a cell or in a nice warm bed, your choice," warned the officer.

My father didn't say another word, he looked at the police officers with a sneering look and just walked away. I watched him walk into the dark boundaries of the street, uncertain whether he would get home safe. I turned to look at Madison who smiled at me just to comfort me, it was a smile I would expect a parent to bestow on their child, which I never got from my father; not once.

One week had passed with Alicia, Madison and I getting settled into our new home. Madison had been spending more time with me, mainly because she committed more time into learning my language and I was glad to help. Alicia has been getting acquainted with her new friend Aleksa, vowing to try and connect to people more, which was something she didn't do so much of before the outbreak. More than once Alicia and I visited our neighbors and would have a tea party, but whenever it was a vodka drinking session, I would chicken out by making an alibi that I was on medication.

At the end of the week, Irina came to visit my house to carry out a medical check up. She confirmed that my operational scar had fully healed and that I have no further health complications and that I'm ready to be deployed for combat. One thing I distinctly remembered after my checkup was when Irina laid her hand on Alicia's shoulder and instantly felt how stiff her muscles were. Irina then insisted to give Alicia a massage, which Alicia declined politely, but Irina persisted and sat Alicia on one of the kitchen chairs. She pressed her fingers hard into Alicia's neck muscles and wrapped her hands around Alicia's neck without applying any pressure. She yanked Alicia's head up, which made a click then she took hold of Alicia's shoulders and then propped her knee against Alicia's back and then pulled her body backwards and made a very loud crack. This didn't make Alicia yelp in pain, but I did see how she reacted. She gasped, but sort of pleasurably as if it was a sign of relief. Seeing Irina work her hands on Alicia's skin and see it react to Irina's firmness and intensity I found kind of arousing, observing a big strong lady work on my girl. Once Irina was finished working on Alicia's muscles, Alicia stood up looking and feeling very jovial and sprightly. Before Irina saw herself out she told me I would be informed when I'll be meeting my superior, which I have to admit looked forward to.

Only two days passed where I would get confirmation when I will be having an appointment with the field marshal. On the day before my appointment I volunteered to go shopping. I travelled to the shopping center, which looked more like a really big hanger, which looked big enough to fit a unit of aeroplanes or tanks. There were people pouring in and out with bags or crates of groceries and they were loading them onto carriages where their driver or baggage handler helped them load their shopping. Wisely I hired my own horse carriage to drive there and do my shopping. I was provided with a push trolly and I would wheel it inside the humungous interior where people swarmed with trollies. There were shelving units stocked so high with goods. It reminded me when I first stepped into Walmart, it was so big and very hard to navigate through, kind of like being in a maze. There were signs to guide me where specific items were, which I was grateful for, because I got the feeling I wanted to get the shopping done and be out of there as quick as possible. Thanks to the signs in neat bold writing I was able to get almost half the shopping done, the next items on my list was bread, so I followed the signs and found the one that guided me in the right direction.

I came across a large long counter with an assortment of bread. Not only were there different types of bread, but also cakes and pastries all behind a glass pane. There was no one there to dispense the bread on request when I first got there, but then a man walked into view. It was a tall black man, wearing a white baker's hat, white shirt and a navy blue apron. Not only did it surprise me to see a black man for the first time in the community, but also it was a black man I've met before. This was the same sleazy man I broke out of prison back in Tijuana, it was Victor Strand.

"Dobreeya Ootra, kak ya mogoo vas pomoch, sir?" asked Strand, with his last words in his sentence dimming in volume as he gazed at me with familiarization, "Well I'll be damned. You're the son of a bitch who got me out of that hell hole in Tijuana."

Victor Strand smiled as if he was happy to see me.

"Da, it's me. Small world isn't it?"

"Small world it is indeed, I never thought we'd meet again."

"So how was your plane ride?"

"Well it was no first class flight let me tell you. Caught a cold on the way and had to spend time in a cell in my own piss and shit, until I was released, given a small box to live in and a job. Lucky me."

"Sorry you were mistreated."

"Oh don't be, you should know that I and so many others are being treated like slaves. Feels like being a black man in the Confederate States of America, where black people such as myself were abused and forced to work hard labour."

"Sounds like you pissed in the wrong pool to be reduced to this."

"Oh you don't know the half of it... Sorry I forgot your name."

"Mikhail."

"Right... Mikhail, you see Mikhail... your friends and I go way back. On the day the Soviet Union fell and your country was reborn, it seemed that I have found my gold mine. What should have been the perfect heist that would have made me a millionaire over night wasn't meant to be."

"What heist were you planning?"

"Ever heard of 'perestroika'?"

"Nyet, other than it means 'restructure'."

"What about 'uskoreniye' or the 500 days?"

"Nyet, don't think I have."

"Oh I get it, it's because you were born after the Cold War. Well I can tell you my Russian friend you missed out. When the last president of the Soviet Union, Mikhail Gorbachev announced 'perestroika', I knew it was the golden opportunity to attack an economy already falling apart. I was one of the first Americans to try and make deals with the black market in the Soviet Union."

"So what did you do, try to sell them Twinkees?"

"No nothing like that, Twinkees are chickenfeed. I'm talking weapons, weapons my friend weapons. One guy from the KGB I promised him I could get him an ICBM and the notorious stinger missiles. As expected he could not say no to that deal and I got my ticket to infiltrate further into the KGB and uncover secrets, secrets that were worth millions."

"What secrets?"

"Oh just secrets, like solutions to wipe out the Mujahideen in Afghanistan, plans to invade America without the aid of nukes and most importantly, a secret that concerns you."

The look Victor Strand gave me with a sly smile made my gut rumble and ask him, being curious to know.

"What secret is it?"

"Project Janissary."

"Project Janissary?"

"You don't know who the Janissaries were?"

"Nyet, who were they?"

"The Turkish elite, although they were not Turks they were actually children recruited from occupied countries such as the Balkans and Southern Russia. They were slaves to the sultan and swore their allegiance to fight for him. Kind of like you, a little boy taken by the government, turned into a soldier and fight for Mother Russia."

"So I happen to be one of the subjects, a slave to the Kremlin?"

"To put it bluntly, yes. You probably haven't heard of Chernobyl? Nah I thought you haven't. Well basically it was a power plant that exploded in the Ukraine and leaked radiation that spread throughout Europe. The Ukraine's neighbor Belarus was hit pretty hard, the east part of the country was heavily contaminated and still remains inhabitable even till this day. However it was only partly true, the contamination was only a cover up so Russia could carry out Project Janissary and conduct training operations in the allegedly forbidden zones. It was kind of Belarus' withdrawal agreement with Russia when Russia agreed to allow Belarus to leave the Soviet Union."

This revelation intrigued me and I gained some satisfaction to know what I was a part of and what could it all mean.

"So how did you know I was part of Project Janissary?"

"Your name was on the list last time I checked, Mikhail Romanenko."

"Okay and did you make any money by selling this secret to the highest bidder?"

"Oh no and it's a real shame too. I got greedy and tried to rake in as much money as I could before I bailed out a rich man, but unfortunately the KGB were on to me and I was lucky to flee the country with my life."

"Must have been disappointed."

"Disappointed? That's an understatement. I was absolutely devastated, still tears me apart to this day."

"Look on the bright side, you got a job and are making a living."

"Yeah well don't think you'd want to be in the position I'm in. If you lived like a king you'll know what it feels like to lose it all, your money, your castle even your kingdom. Before you know it you end up in a godforsaken place like this."

"I see. You never liked Russia did you?"

"Oh on the contrary, I kind of liked your country. I liked the caviar and the champagne. Heck I even loved the Black Sea, especially during the summer, almost made me want to defect to Russia."

"Well why didn't you?"

"I'm no communist. I love the sweet freedom and benefits of capitalism."

"Da that was a stupid question to ask."

"Got to get out of here. Retail and low class life isn't for me, I'm telling ya."

"Where else could you possibly go, back into the outside world? You won't find a 5 star resort, not one that's in pristine condition anyway."

"Oh I'll be swimming in money, drinking champagne and eating caviar again. Just you wait and see." Strand leaned towards me and his face was close to mine, "Maybe you can help your dear Uncle Victor. What I need is..."

Strand was interrupted by another customer (middle-aged female) standing at the counter and glaring at Strand for his unprofessionalism.

"Izvinite, na dannyy moment," asked Strand looking directly at the customer. He turns to face me, puts on his work face and said, "Another time, Mikhail. What can I get you?"

I made my request and pulled myself away from the counter and allowed the customer to receive her bread from Strand. I did look back as I wheeled the trolly down the aisle and I saw him wink to me, just as a gesture of friendliness and confirmation that we're friends. Part of me knew Strand is not someone I can fully trust, so I thought the best way around this is to try and avoid him and hope he doesn't use Madison or Alicia to get to me.

With all my items checked and crossed off the list, I went to the cashier to pay for my items. I didn't pay in ruble, which was the currency in Russia. Instead the accepted currency were food stamps, which were authenticated with a scanner. Food stamps were earned as part of an income where rent and utilities were paid by the state. Maybe this was what it was like to shop in the Soviet times.

I was surprised to learn that baggage carriers were employed to carry shoppers bags to their carriage and mine happened to be someone I didn't expect to see, it was Josh. At first I didn't know what to feel that he got out safe, I was sort of glad, but at the same time I could tell by the way he acted he hadn't grown up or learned from his experience. He proved to be the same immature delinquent he was back at Salmon and he also proved unprofessional when the manager yelled at him for being unresponsive when his name was called. Josh reacted with bewilderment when he recognized me and didn't think I got out alive. One thing I noticed different about Josh was he had a huge blue bruise around his eye. He openly told me he'd been in a fight yesterday after a night out drinking and someone roughed him up. I wanted to laugh, knowing he did or said something to deserve it, but I humored him and allowed him to carry my shopping to the carriage and answer his questions. Josh did ask about Alicia and how she was and I told him she was doing fine and he would respond with lewd comments about her. This almost made me want to give him another black eye, but decided it wouldn't be a good idea because I could get banned from the supermarket. Maybe the other workers didn't like Josh, but I didn't want to take chances. Josh loaded my shopping onto the carriage and before he took off he requested me to greet Alicia for him, which I humbly said I would do. On the way driving back home and thinking about my strange encounter with Strand and Josh, really made this an interesting first start to the day. Strand was someone I didn't hope to see anytime soon because I didn't want him to suborn me and as much as I hate to admit this, thinking about Josh almost makes me miss Rico.

The moment had arrived, where I would be transported to meet the field marshal. A helicopter flew into the neighborhood where the residents came out to observe the loud flying machine they don't see often. I was already spruced up and dressed in my most presentable clothes in my wardrobe and stood at my door with Alicia by my side. A man in a green military uniform and a black military cap approached me to give me a salute. He introduced me by giving me his identity as Colonel Granitzki and asked me to accompany him. I gave Alicia a kiss before following the colonel into the helicopter. I think this was my first ride in a helicopter, apart from being transported in a helicopter while I was unconscious. Only after taking off and seeing how small the world was below I already felt nauseous and my ears begun to pop. Must be a result of not flying for a long time, so I did my best not to throw up or try to lose my hearing after I got out of the chopper.
We flew over trees, empty grassland and mountains until we flew over what looked like a military compound. There were hangers, airstrips, a line of trucks and even battalions of soldiers either marching, exercising or doing target practice. Finally the helicopter descended on the helipad and the door opened where I immediately jumped out like a frog on a hot plate. My ears were hurting and I was half deaf, unable to hear the colonel clearly when he asked me to follow him. While I walked with him and hoped my hearing would recover, I surveyed the vast military camp, which was occupied with soldiers in military uniform and wearing berets on their seemingly shaven heads. Just when I thought I wouldn't see them again for a long time, I saw there were walkers being used for training. I saw one soldier in a large cage that had wired doors and behind those wired doors was a narrow section of strong metal bars, which confined walkers ready to be released and unleashed on the soldier who was armed with only a knife. I saw him how he skillfully killed the walkers that were set loose on him in all directions and he was able to take out the walkers before they got their teeth in him. After that wave of walkers he was instructed by his commanding officer to relinquish his knife and fight the next wave barehanded. I got the privilege of watching him carry out this dangerous challenge. Two walkers were set on him as he threw one walker onto the ground and snapped his arms like twigs. He then turned his attention to the second walker, which he kicked in the chest and it went flying back and hitting the back of its head against the wall. Then with aggression and brute force he delivered his foot into the walker's face and it exploded. He then walked over to the grounded walker, placed one hand on its hair and the other under its chin, then he pulled the head upwards so hard the walker's head came off with the spinal cord attached. Grabbing the bottom part of the severed spinal cord, he swung the walker's head against the metal bars and it exploded on impact and its decomposed brains sullied the bars. It impressed me to see how one trained combatant can hold his own against walkers and that these soldiers were not only trained to fight people, but also walkers.

While walking past a battalion of soldiers jogging past the colonel and I, I then saw a lone soldier bleeding. He had blood flowing down his neck and down his arm, it then disturbed me to see he had his ear lobe bitten off. I could hear him talk to his superior who confirmed he had sustained a walker bite, which gave me chills and knew he was inevitably going to die. His superior told him he knew what he had to do and the soldier responded cooperatively by giving his superior a salute, then taking his sidearm out of the holster, pointing it under his chin and pulling the trigger. After a cloud of red emerged from the top of his head, he fell to the ground where two soldiers were called to carry his body away for incineration. This scene I knew was going to give me nightmares, aware that trainees that have been bitten are authorized to commit suicide should they sustain any bite from a walker.

Finally we came to a tent, which was guarded by two sentries who saluted us as we walked in. The interior of the tent was brightly lit with a hanging lantern and in the middle stood a wooden table with a map of Wyoming state in the middle. A tall strong looking man hovered over the map with a pen examining the map, probably trying to strategize what I would assume an attack on Wyoming. The man turned his head to look at me and the first thing I noticed about his face was his long beak-like nose. His eyes were small and his pupils matched the color of his dark brown irises. He had thin lips and a pointy chin above a red rugged neck, which looked like he suffered a first degree burn. His head was shaved with what looked like blonde hair growing back, which stood on end like a hedgehog. He was tall and built, with long shoulders and massive stout muscular arms.

"Greetings Mikhail Romanenko, I am Field Marshall Ivan Pavalvich Kristovski. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," smiled Ivan jolly as he approached me with an outstretched open hand. I took his hand and he squeezed it so hard I could feel the bones in my hand compress together. "We have a lot to talk about, but before we begin, we'll have to wait for the doctor to arrive. Let's put on the kettle and start with a hot cup of tea."

When the doctor arrived on schedule after Ivan and I were seated with a hot brew, he introduced himself as Dr. Josef Krasnov the head of R&D. He was a short man with greasy black hair. His skin was pale and he had high cheekbones and dark expressionless eyes. The room was dimmed and a slideshow was played on a projector. The first slide was unsettling with an image depicting an immobile cyborg walker lying on an operational table. Josef actuated the button to skip to the next slide and show a diagram of the cyborg walker in biological and technical detail. He expounded that apart from the brain the other organs are practically ineffective and that it's only the limbs and spinal cord that has been reinforced with bionics. The bionic limbs were made of a solid flexible alloy to enable better movement. The muscle fibers empower considerable strength, enough to grapple and overpower a mere human in its grasp. The spinal cord was structured out of titanium and resembled an actual human spinal cord. This was to implement balance and to keep the body upright to allow for better mobility. Human tissue was dead and non-functional and already in the stages of decomposing, there was evidence that the subject had gone through the process of being cryogenically preserved. This concluded the biological aspects as Josef then revealed something he discovered only by pure chance, it was a logo, a logo I remember well. BioHicks Corp, I remember the name and logo while I was at Matt's house in his father's study. Matt's father was one of the many scientists employed at the company and told Matt and I his new invention. His invention was bionics, which would be attached to anyone with lost limbs, cerebral palsy, scoliosis or any other form of paralysis.

"BioHicks," I said aloud.

"You're familiar with the company?" inquired Ivan.

"Da, my old friend Matt Sale's father, Johnathan Sale. He manufactured the bionic implements."

From looking at Ivan and the doctor's faces, I can tell I just sparked interest and they were going to ask me more questions.

"What was his intention, making cyborgs?" asked Ivan.

"Nyet, replacing lost limbs and curing paralysis. I don't think he intended his new invention to be used for military purposes."

"You know America, they weaponize everything," remarked Josef, "Anyway that basically concludes my analysis on this new innovative super walker. Unfortunately I don't know how many of them are being mass produced, which is what concerns me. This Marc Antony really has some tricks up his sleeve."

"You leave Marc Antony with me, your new assignment is to replicate these cyborg walkers and deploy them for training. We need to prepare our men to fight an army of these monstrosities," ordered Ivan.

"Da sir, right away sir," complied Josef, switching off the slide show, gathering up his documents and leaving the tent hurriedly.

Ivan turned his head to look at me and said, "Don't go anywhere, Mikhail, that's only one part of the briefing. Now it's time to discuss our real plan."

Ivan and I were standing over the table with a map laid out, only this time it wasn't a map of Wyoming, it was a map of the United States.

"You don't mean?" I perplexed, after hearing the plan I thought sounded disquieting and at the same time absurd.

"Da, I did mean it when I said it. The Federation of Russia plans to take over the United States and you're going to help us do it," confirmed Ivan.

"But how, wouldn't that be suicide regarding the limited resources and manpower we have at our disposal?" I questioned.

"You don't really think the soldiers you see outside are the only ones ready for combat do you?" laughed Ivan.

"Nyet, but I think we would need more men than that."

"And we do?"

"Where?"

"We got bases set up in Canada and Alaska. Even in Siberia there are trained soldiers ready to be transferred to Alaska and eventually sent to us as reinforcements."

"But America is a huge country. How can a substantial amount of manpower and military firepower occupy America in only a matter of months?"

Ivan looked at me and smiled, then he pointed at the map right near the border between Montana and Wyoming.

"We are going to cut America in two. The west side will be occupied by Russian forces, while we secure the boarder between west and east. North of the state there's an army on standby ready to launch a campaign to invade North Dakota. There's even another battalion in Canada right at the northern North Dakota border ready to reinforce the army with fresh new troops."

"And Wyoming?"

"Our next target. Eventually we will march our forces all the way into Texas and occupy the state, but not this year of course. That's why Wyoming will be the only state we intend to capture before we pursue our plans to expand next year when the weather clears."

"So what does this have to do with me?"

"You being one of our top elite subjects will partake in special operations. These special operations are required to allow our invading troops easy access and set up fortifications."

"And to clear any walkers?"

"If you come across them, da, but you are to eliminate any militia or locals who resist."

"Will I be sitting with my comrades with the brief on the big screen or will I be needing cassette tapes?"

"What do you mean?"

I then mustered the courage to open my mouth and mention the name of a top secret project, which I'm sure I'd be aware of the consequences. I could have even been silenced for having known too much.

"Project Janissary," I uttered, as I watched the abhorrent look on Ivan's face.

"Who told?" grilled Ivan.

"Victor Strand," I revealed.

"I knew it, that slippery bastard has stuck his nose where it wasn't wanted. What did he tell you about Project Janissary?"

"That it's a training program to teach young boys how to fight and die for the country. I know I was one of them and I had undergone therapy or some kind of hypnotism."

"Sounds like we better have a serious talk about this," said Ivan as he ran to the exit of the tent and sealed it shut so no one could hear. "You are right about Project Janissary being a program that focuses primarily in training young boys into becoming soldiers, but that's only part of it."

"Why do you need to train young boys to fight?"

"After the fall of the Soviet Union the Russian special forces the Spetznaz were unemployed and became soldiers for hire. We still implemented them in Russia's wars, but it wasn't enough to pay their bills, so they turned to anyone who could afford them. Since we couldn't rely on the Spetznaz and expect their loyalty to fight and die for their country, we needed to create elite soldiers, elite soldiers we could control and maintain their loyalty. That's why you were given intense therapy and were a subject of hypnotism. With hypnotism you would forget your training and only remember your civilian life, this was so you could blend into society and only be triggered and summoned when needed."

"How was I triggered?"

"When listening to a cassette tape, with a specific code could your training awaken. You would then be instructed what your mission is and you would carry it out accordingly, only to awaken with no memory what you did during the mission. However there was a fatal flaw that we were not able to fix, another thing that triggered your combat demeanor."

"What is it?"

"Blood."

"Anyone's blood?"

"Nyet, your own blood."

This revelation gave me a flashback when Marc Antony and his stooges ambushed me. Marc Antony pistol whipping me in the mouth and making me bleed my own blood was what brought out the beast in me.

"That would explain everything."

"Which was why the police report against you got our attention and we knew there was a slight defect in your hypnosis."

"What about that white noise that causes me to go limp and defenseless?"

"That you see is an emergency shutdown in case our subjects of Project Janissary go out of control. How Marc Antony got his hands on it we'll never know, which is why we cannot take the risk of using hypnosis on our subjects anymore. Before we extract and purge your mind of any treatments of hypnosis, you are required to take a test."

"What sort of test?"

"A test you might not survive. Some Project Janissary subjects have survived, whereas many have died."

"What if I fail?"

"Unfortunately the only way to survive is not to fail. The test consists of many exercises that require both physical, mentality and the will to survive."

"What if I refuse to take the test?"

I knew that this was a stupid question to ask because I would get the obvious answer from Ivan who looked at me earnestly.

"You will not leave this tent alive."

I tried to masquerade my fear, knowing that if I should resist Ivan could simply pull out the same gadget Marc Antony had and paralyze me with white noise and I get a bullet in my head. There was no going back now, the only way forward was to allow Ivan to lead the way and participate in this test.

"Now if you would follow me, Mikhail. I will gladly escort you to the death house, which is where you'll be taking the test."

Obediently and compliantly I followed Ivan from behind, while I could hear two soldier's footsteps dig into the moist ground behind me, knowing I was being escorted incase I kicked off and resisted. Aware that this might be the last time I see the outside world, I scanned my surroundings to find anything fascinating, despite it not being mesmerizing or too pleasing to the eye. I saw a bear in a cage fighting against walkers who tried to latch themselves onto the bear and take a bite out of him. The bear mauled the walkers to pieces or took their heads off with one clean swipe of its paw. One walker was able to get its teeth in the bear's flesh and the bear roared in agony. The bear then retaliated by getting the walker's head in its mouth and crushing it like a melon. From what I gathered, animals can't turn into walkers, which is something I'm sure many envied the fact that animals are immune to the virus.
I also looked at a shooting range where the participants aimed their rifles and shot at walkers that advanced towards them. Each shot that left the rifle found its way into a walker's head and knocked them onto the ground. When a walker got close enough, the instructor yelled at the participants to equip their knives and I watched them throw their knives at the walkers. The knives spun in the air like shining silver stars and struck the walkers in the forehead as they crashed to the ground with the knife sticking out.

Finally we reached what looked like a gigantic dilapidated mansion. The windows were boarded up and exit doors I could see were bolted up and chained, so no one that goes in can come out alive. The whole exterior looked like no one was living there and it was ready to be demolished, but it was refurbished and converted into a training facility or a death house as Ivan liked to call it. It really did look haunting and a place where someone would more than likely enter and never come out. I wasn't going to ask questions about how many went in and made it. Not only because I didn't want to induce my fear of death, but the likelihood of Ivan telling me the statistics wasn't something he was authorized to share with me.
I was directed to what looked like a garage door as one of the soldiers bent to grab the handle and lift up the garage shutter. The inside of the garage was pitch black and I got the feeling I was going to be scouting in the dark. One of the soldiers frisked my body for any items I could use as a weapon or accessory. Once I was confirmed to be clean, Ivan took one look at me and said, "Good luck, Mikhail."

I was then pushed into the garage where the shutter closed and I was swallowed up in darkness. My trial of life and death had begun.

To be continued...