Night Watch: The Lost Other

Chapter 1

Anton woke early that morning in the dark. He hadn't done so in a while so it seemed obvious that he was due another early morning. He stretched and got out of bed, yawning and brushing off the dust that had settled onto his hooded jumper over night. He looked out of the window at the Russian winter snowfall, glancing down at the snowdrifts piled up around people's cars.

Sighing, he stripped off his clothes and went into the bathroom, starting up the shower. He stepped in and grabbed the soap bottle, squeezing some out and sliding it over his body. He tried desperately to remember what he had dreamt about last night; he knew it was no more flashbacks from when he first met the Night Watch. His dream had been vague, that was all he could remember. He stood under the water jet and washed off the soap, raising his head to it and feeling the water run down his face between the prickly hairs on his chin.

Then he suddenly remembered. There had been a girl on a plane; an English girl, probably close to her early twenties. A pretty, intelligent girl, but no one he had seen before except in previous visions. She was Lost; a Lost Other who would soon find her way to Moscow and make her choice. Anton sighed and turned off the shower, stepping out and grabbing a towel off the rail. He'd talk to Geser about it later, he thought as he dried himself. He pulled his trousers on again, staring at himself in the mirror; he had slept badly and his appearance reflected it.

He reached into the cabinet for his razor, smothering his face with shaving foam. He lightly skimmed the razor over his beard, washing of the remaining bits of foam and leaving a generous coating of stubble behind. He left the bathroom, pulling his white T-shirt and grey jumper back on before entering the kitchen. Anton sighed; there was bugger all in here as usual. He picked up the nearest bottle of vodka and drained a few millimetres before grabbing his coat and leaving his flat. He shut the door, pausing briefly in the corridor as his vision blurred. He fell back against the wall, momentarily reaching into his pocket and taking out his shades to place over his eyes. Regaining his balance, he crossed the hallway to the staircase but was cut short by the sound of a door opening behind him.

"Hey Anton."

Anton stopped and turned round.

"Morning Kostya," he grumbled.

"You're up early again," the young Vampire replied.

"Out to work."

"They keep you up this early?"

"And late, too."

"Hmm, see you later."

Anton nodded and left, Kostya watching as he made his way slowly down the stairs.

"Are you drunk again?" he called down to him.

There was a pause. "No."

Kostya nodded, watching his friend leave.

"Of course," he added, shutting the door.

Anton trudged through his way out into the snow, heading towards the stairs down into the underground. The wind was even worse down here, blasting ice cold against his unshaven face. He stood and waited for the train, pilling on it with the rest of the passengers. He sat down as the train moved away, looking around him and almost expecting to see the girl from his dreams. But there was no sign. He put his head in his hands; did she even exist?

As the train neared the city centre, Anton hadn't found much time to think about it. He'd let Geser device if he was seeing visions again or if he was just fantasising about foreign women on planes. Was this the effect of drinking far too much vodka beginning to take its toll on his gift of visions? That was another one for Geser. He made his way back up to street level, the snow falling on his slicked back dark hair. After walking through the snow covered streets of Moscow, he eventually met up with Bear outside of the Gorsvet building. The Russian stared at him for a while, brushing back a few tangles of his thick black hair out of face.

"You look like crap," he commented.

"Like I feel then Ilya," Anton replied.

"You drink far too much."

"Only a bit; I am Russian after all."

"So are we all, but you still drink far too much."

The two of them entered the doors of the Gorsvet Headquarters, meeting up with Tiger Cub on the inside. Anton left them alone to their conversation, climbing the stairs to the top of the building where Geser's office was. He'd had a vision six months ago when he saw an English girl dreaming of Moscow; a Lost Other wondering why she could do strange things with her thoughts. But this vision was different; it was the same woman, but different.

He entered Geser's office, moving over to the far end where the Gorsvet boss was sat behind his desk. Geser looking up as Anton walked in, standing in front of him on the other side of his cluttered desk.

"What can I do for you Anton?" Geser asked.

"I've seen her again," he replied.

"The English girl you mean?"

"Yes."

"Here?"

"No, in one of my dreams again."

"Is this the same one as before?"

"No, the same girl, but a different dream."

"So what do you see now Anton?"

"Before, as you already know, I saw an English girl who was at home thinking of Moscow. She wanted to find out why she was doing all these unusual things with her mind. You though she was a Lost Other."

"And I still think so."

"But this time it was different. She was at an airport and then on a place and landing at another airport. She seemed determined to find out why she was not like other people and she'd find out when she landed."

"Which airport, Anton?"

"London Heathrow."

"Destination?"

"I can't… wait! Sheremetyevo 2 with Aeroflot!"

"Did you see a flight number?"

"Yes. It was SU145."

Geser leaned back in his seat.

"What do you think?" Anton asked.

"Don't worry, I don't think you're insane," Geser smiled.

"Is this the future what I'm seeing?"

"I think this Lost Other of yours is coming home."

He picked up one of the phones on his desk and dialled the number for the analytical department. He waited for the other end to pick up, tapping his fingers on the edge of desk, impatiently.

"Analytical department," replied the man.

"Anatoly, it's about Anton's vision," Geser stated.

"What about it?"

"We think and English woman is trying to get to Moscow sometime in the future. Anton saw her on an Aeroflot flight from London Heathrow to Sheremetyevo 2, flight number SU-145. Can you find it?"

"Hang on, I'll check for you."

On the other end, Geser could hear the sound of Anatoly frantically tapping away at a computer keyboard. There was long paused, followed by a few mouse clicked before he replied.

"I've only managed to get a week of Aeroflot services," Anatoly replied. "This is the journey from London Heathrow to Moscow Sheremetyevo 2. None of them have a flight number SU-145."

"Anything close?" Geser asked.

"An SU-156, SU-144 and SU-148."

"Hmm, not quite."

He rested the phone against his shoulder.

"Are you certain it was 145, Anton?" he questioned.

He nodded. "Positive."

Geser grimaced and lifted the phone back against his ear.

"Could you keep an eye out for it Anatoly?"

"I'll try," Anatoly replied.

"Good man."

Geser put the phone down, turning back to Anton.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Not today," Anton replied.

"Let me know if anything else comes up."

Anton nodded and got to his feet, making to leave but Geser stopped him.

"Go home and sober up," he said. "You look awful."

A week later…

Vsevolod Ruslanovich Kepalenko locked up the rear of the pub as he finished cleaning the bar and the small kitchen. The owners had gone to bed for the night upstairs above the pub and he had promised to lock up after cleaning. He drew his leather jacket around him as the ice cold wind coming across from Siberia hit him across the street as he trudged on through the snow. He stopped at the bus stop, checking his watch. Within luck, he'd get a return ride any moment.

"Hungry Vsevolod?" asked a voice.

Vsevolod turned round to face the man who spoke.

"Get away from me Zavulon," he stated.

"You didn't answer my question," the Day Watch boss insisted.

"I no longer feed on the living, you know that."

"But the Hunger will never leave you."

"Maybe it will if I suppress it long enough… and with Geser's help."

"You are a Vampire Vsevolod; a Dark Other."

"I am no longer an officer of the Day Watch."

Zavulon smiled. "You could have had her, you know."

"I did not wish to take her life from her."

"You could have had her for eternity!"

"I had a brief, three day affair with a woman I hardly knew. I have no right to go around taking people's lives at will, licence or no licence. To keep her forever, I would have to have asked Night Watch for permission."

"You felt no Hunger for her?"

"I did, but then something changed."

"She left you, Vsevolod."

"I only found out she was married when she returning to England. I loaded her cases for her and expected to get some kind of contact number from her. Instead, she told me that she was already married and could no longer keep contact with me. It hurt, and I realised that I could no longer keep killing people to feed. So I stopped and I left Day Watch to get help from Geser. I am gradually learning how to find my lost humanity and I need to tell myself that I am no longer afraid."

You're making a mistake, Vsevolod!"

"No, the mistake was taking the easy option."

"You're destroying yourself over a woman!"

"I made a choice long ago to become a Dark Other and then be an officer of the Day Watch. But people make bad choices and then you see that you only took the easy option. I was young and careless; I never thought things through before I went with you. But now, once the Inquisition examined my case and cleared it, I've asked Geser to allow me to amend my decision."

"We don't like to lose an Other; we can all feel it."

"I should have never chosen to destroy my Light."

"But you were so eager to become Dark."

"When I was young. But I have a choice Zavulon, and I want to be human again."

Zavulon nodded. "Your bus, Vsevolod."

Vsevolod turned round and saw the bus pulling into his stop. He stepped onto it, paid for his ticket, and sat down to look out of the window. Zavulon had gone from his position leaning against the bus shelter, drawn away by the glaring lights of the bus headlamps. Vsevolod sighed and settled down as the bus pulled away; turning to watch the Kremlin wall as it flashed passed him. Zavulon was right; as a teenager, he had longed to become Dark, but only because the life style of the Dark Others appeared 'cooler' than the Light. Now he was older and more sensible, he desperately wanted back the Light he'd so foolishly thrown away. Geser was a good man in helping him try to regain his lost humanity.

His bus stopped at the inner city suburb, Vsevolod filing off with some of the other passengers. He crossed the road into the concrete car park of the first flat block, having to walk a little way to reach his own. In the car park of his flat block, he spotted a yellow Gorsvet truck parked by the entrance with a familiar, podgy form standing outside it, smoking. He walked over to it, his hands still warming in his pockets.

"Evening Semyon," Vsevolod noted.

"Behaving yourself?" the van driver asked.

"Yes of course! Same things as normal. Drop by to the butchers shop, get a few more supplies off Kostya's father and got to work. I'm getting their slowly. Even if I do get my humanity back, my former loyalties do mean that I have to remain neutral. And I will always be a Vampire."

"Geser worked out your situation with Zavulon."

"I only wish to live side by side with my neighbours."

"And you will do so in peace, friend!"

"I hope so."

Semyon tossed the rest of the cigarette into a snowdrift.

"It'll be alright in the end," he noted.

Vsevolod nodded. "Has Geser said anything else about this so-called Lost Other? The one Anton keeps having these visions about?"

"Just the usual rabble."

"Hmm, she is Light but comes from Dark."

"Something like that. Ilya says he's mad."

"Who, Geser or Anton?"

The two of them laughed.

"Come on Semyon!" Tiger Cub shouted from the van. "Leave the poor man along. He needs to sleep, not try to understand Anton's daydreams."

"I was just wondering if he knew anything."

"If Geser and Anton don't know, then why should he?"

Semyon laughed. "I see your point."

He turned back to Vsevolod.

"Sorry to keep you up so late, I know you need to stay in good trim for work," he apologised. "I was just wondering if you'd heard anything from Zavulon or the Day Watch about this Lost Other."

"Not that I recall."

"Hmm. Ah well, Anton's visions are normally as clear as mud!"

"And as mixed up as your brain!" Tiger Cub called again. "Get in, or I'll tighten up your seatbelt!"

"Don't you dare!" Semyon shouted back.

"Then you'll have to loose weight!"

"I don't need to, and I don't really want to."

"Then you can lengthen this damn thing yourself!"

Semyon rolled his eyes skyward. "That told me."

"Good evening Semyon," Vsevolod noted.

"I'll catch up with you later."

Semyon left Vsevolod as he entered his flat, jogging back over to his yellow Gorsvet truck. He opened the door, Tiger Cub shifting back over into the centre next to Bear as he sat down in the driver's seat. Semyon fastened the seatbelt across his podgy stomach, relaxing as he started the engine.

"Have you spoken to Anatoly yet?" Tiger Cub asked.

"About what?" Semyon asked.

"Checking Aeroflot flights."

"I know! I'd spoken to him the other day."

"Has he found the SU-145 yet?"

"Yes, it's the end of next week."

Bear and Tiger Cub glanced at each other, turning back to look at Semyon.

"Are you serious?" they asked.

"Of course!" Semyon replied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"What time does it get in?"

"12:30 in the afternoon. That's 3:30 Moscow time."

"Have you told Anton about this?"

"I plan to when I can get hold of him."

"He's a little absent sometimes, I admit," Bear noted.

Semyon nodded. "Being at the vodka and trying to protect Vsevolod at the same time; he's over working himself far too much! Zavulon knows that it's his decision, but he doesn't like the 'defection' as he calls it. All Vsevolod wants to do is live alone and work in peace like a normal human being."

"Pity Zavulon wont accept it."

"Well he'll have to," Tiber Cub noted, defiantly.

"Too right he will."

Semyon nodded and lit up another cigarette, slamming his foot down on the accelerator and driving back onto the road.