Siberia - Short Story Three - Bleak
Central Character - Engineer
Word Count - 761
Written a while ago, some facts might now conflict with the canon verse.


To say that Alexander Gromov liked the snow would be a lie.

In fact he more than disliked it, he hated it, hated how it tended to settle everywhere it was unwanted, on the blankets, on the food supply..on that little radio he was trying to fix that hissed and sputtered in protest of the white flakes and refused to work once again.

He had been so close, yet so far from finding out if there were other survivors in the zones outside of the madness of captain, that man-child pilot and the one percentage Sniper. So close to discovering some other sane company, but apparently Sevens luck did not cover the fixing of radios.

With a sigh Gromov lent back on the old rickety chair to stare up at the holes in the roof of the bungalow they were calling base for now. The damned little flakes of white still drifting down through them, settling on the orange of his goggles before he wiped it away and pushed back from the table, the legs of the old chair scraping across the floor.

The sound had disturbed the Sniper from sleep, who was leaning against one of the walls across the room in a sort of semi uncomfortable looking slump, rifle across his lap in case he needed it. He raised his head, blue lenses meeting orange before he gave a snorted agitated sound and folded his arms, settling down to sleep again as Engie past him.

The windows that looked out into a small yard from the conservatory the Engineer had walked from the other room to were dirty, smudged and cracked with time. The snow was piled up half way to the roof on the outside and what looked like a car wreck had taken down the yards fence at some point...a car wreck caused by the bombs most likely.

Alexander reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he stared out through orange tints and muddy glass into the garden, even through the rubber of the gasmask the move is still felt, comforting in a way, a habit to deal with a threatening to start pressure headache.

Headache caused by the stresses, the strains of everything on his mind, the fact that from a technical angle, this was all his fault.

A heavy guilt to live with, a large burden to bear like atlas with the world upon his shoulders, all the regret, the perfect machine, his ANNET that he had been so careful to create and then been unable to stop the monster she had become when Subject Seven had dumped the tea on the servers.

Engie glanced around then, where was the Captain anyway, he had not seen him in a while, the bungalow base had turned oddly silent a few hours ago, apart from the occasional scratching sound of the Pilot drawing in another room. With out the Captain and his luck there the group were ever so venerable, just sitting ducks for any monster who happened to slither past in the frozen night.

The night was so bleak beyond the bungalow, the wind picking up, the snow fall that had once been light turning to a blizzard in only a matter of moments. The cold air seeping in the cracks of the old conservatory caused Gromov to shiver, rub his hands together for some sort of slight warmth, the new chill was only adding to the numbness his fingers had already felt.

Turning from the windows then he headed back into the old living room, the Sniper was deep sleeping once again but this time the Pilot had apparently joined them, likely slunk in silently..he had settled upon an old broken sofa, a sofa the Sniper had passed up sleeping on due to the unknown stains that peppered the fabric.

Grabbing a blanket from on top of a pile of food cans the Engineer shook it to rid it of the snow that had collected upon it from the holes in the roof, before sitting back down in the old rickety chair, located at the table with the radio he was officially giving up working on. The device clattered to the floor as he kicked it off the table, resting his feet up on the surface as he tried to get somewhat comfortable.

A slight glow of purple illuminated the room as Engie finally slipped off into dreamless sleep, the Captain was apparently back, looming in a door way and watching them as they slept through the rest of the frozen night.