Welcome, Children of Rus! This is another scheduled broadcast from the Grand Chaplaincy, and I am, as always, the Voice of the People.
We begin with news from the northern front, where the Karelian tribes are once again on the move. The Sisu have claimed the ruins of Volkov, but the Haltija and Tonttu seem to have withdrawn to the east.
In an official statement, beloved High Tsar Alexander promises additional men to seize this opportunity and drive the Sisu into Lake Ladoga once and for all. Naturally, our Chaplains shall remain on the front and likewise ensure that all critique of the Dogma is removed, along with the tribal filth!
Let us not forget, dear listeners, that this is no ordinary dispute… this is a battle of faiths! Never forget that, and never forget that your compliance and piety is not only expected, but actively contributes towards our final victory over the wastes!
More news to be announced, but first, I leave you to a moment of contemplation, while we are all further roused by the tune and song of 'Sviashchennaia Vojna' – the Sacred War!
Bombastic music started flowing out of the radio, accompanied by the enthusiastic roars of a male choir. However, a meaty, closed fist soon slammed down on the small device, cracking open its bottom section and sending the batteries inside rolling out into the dirt.
"Aww Boss, come on! I was listening to that!"
"Shut up, Brick. They repeat the same damned thing every day… how aren't you sick of it yet?"
"You know why! I'm waiting for the Voice to get drunk again and play Lasha Tumbai!"
The two men continued to bicker, but a bit away, Luka was far too preoccupied to pay them any attention. Ylva had just finished licking blood from his reopened leg wound, and now he was being forced to watch her hold a knife into the tall flames rising from the fire pit.
"Did you know, dearie?" The bald woman tapped her index finger to her chin. "Before you, when we've had actual humans to eat, it's always been dead prospectors and people we had to put down…" She paused, and absentmindedly twirled the knife around in the fire for a moment, before giving Luka a gleeful look. "But you are still alive, so I'm going to try something!"
Luka struggled to swallow as he watched Ylva pull away from the fire. He ached all over, and despondently tried to focus his dizzy mind on finding a way to escape, or at least buy more time. "Hey, uhh… 'dear,'" he began hesitantly, making a hopeless attempt to catch Ylva's eyes as she started to tear away another piece of his denims, "it looks like you've strung up plenty of meat already. Won't you risk it going bad if you start with me?"
Ylva paused and looked up at him. "Oh wow… that's what I was thinking too, sweetie!" She pursed her lips and gave his chin a quick pinch. "Such a clever boy… yes you are!"
Luka felt an intense moment of relief, but it was rudely cut short when the crazy woman then proceeded to sink her knife into his thigh. The tip of the blade easily broke the skin, and he jerked backwards in panicked spasms as he felt the cutting pain sink all the way down into his bone.
Somewhere nearby, Luka's pained screams spurred the two bickering men to take their argument indoors. The door to the shack slammed shut, though Luka barely noticed. Instead, he stared in horror as Ylva ripped the knife back out of his leg and inspected the newly formed wound.
"Hmm… nope," she said as soon as blood started to ooze out, turning instead to study her knife. "I wonder if I was supposed to heat it more… It's such a hassle, I get too impatient!"
Luka gasped for breath, the cold dry air hurting as he drew it into his sore throat. At least he felt good filling his lungs again, and while he wasn't sure if he was shaking from a rush of adrenaline, or from the blood loss, the pain had put a keen edge to his mind again. Noticing that the two men were nowhere to be seen, he wondered if perhaps he could plant a sudden kick towards Ylva's head with his good leg, and for that matter make it hard enough to knock her out so he could make a run for it.
An open palm pressed hard into Luka's chest just as he relaxed to reposition himself, however, and he flew down on his back. He cursed loudly as he felt Ylva straddling him, and she peered down with a smug expression.
"Now now… that's not how we talk," she said, and made a sound that made it seem as if she coughed up a fit of giggles from her abdomen. "But that's fine. I left the knife in the fire again. I guess I can try it on your tongue next."
"Won't that rob you of a pleasant conversation partner?" Luka grunted, only barely trailing off towards the end of the sentence as the breeze shifted slightly and carried with it a new, rancid smell.
Luka wrinkled his nose and drifted off in thought. 'Are those the slabs of meat? No… the wind is coming from another direction…' He looked up at Ylva, making a point to excessively sniff the air in the hopes that she'd also notice, and lower her guard. 'As soon as she jumps off, I'll go for the kick…'
But the bald head in front of him simply shook back and forth, as the woman tutted at him once more. "Aww, don't you start sniffling now…" Her expression instantly switched into a grin. "If I can get this to work, then you'll get to live a little longer! Means we can take off, let's say, a leg and an arm tonight… and we keep the rest of you fresh and tasty for another day!"
'Seriously… that smell…'
"Again with the sniffles!" Ylva paused, and cackled to herself. "Am I really that scary, sweetheart?"
Luka's fright began to blend in with his frustration over the fact that she wasn't taking the bait, and he felt a rising heat boil up in his chest. "What's wrong with you, you clot-witted lunatic!" he finally snapped. "Take a fucking hint!"
"You called me what and a what now?" Ylva whined like an entitled child. "You're no fun when you're mean!"
Luka was about to bite back with another remark, but instead his fright won out again. He fell silent, and stared up at the head that had just bobbed into view behind Ylva's.
"What's that?" Ylva hissed. "Go on, say it! Talk while you still have the chance!"
'Shit… my screaming attracted more of them… shit! My screaming attracted more of them! SHIT!' Luka began to struggle wildly, much to Ylva's delight.
"Ohh…" she purred, "I think it's time I go get the knife. So we can settle this nasty business." She climbed off Luka, but froze as she turned around to be greeted by the ghoul towering over her.
And not just any ghoul. It was standing upright, lacking the feral rage in its eyes as it stared back down with what Luka thought was a sense of contempt. Short tufts of oily, black hair still grew from its head, and it was wearing woollen clothes, and an old, worn riot vest. For a ghoul, it actually looked civilized, but worst of all, the abominable creature also held a submachine gun that Luka recognized as an MP5, aiming it straight at Ylva.
Luka felt his heart pounding, and didn't dare to move, but from the periphery of his vision he could see an additional three or four ghouls slowly shuffle closer, all clothed, and more importantly, armed.
'Ghouls… with guns…' Luka shivered, and this time he was sure it wasn't from the adrenaline, or blood loss. This had been a reoccurring nightmare of his ever since he was a child, but to actually see it realized was something else entirely.
The ghoul opened its mouth, and Luka expected to be faced with a series of gurgling snarls, but instead, actual words flowed from what remained of the creature's decayed lips. Words that Luka could understand.
"I suggest you step away from your friend there," the ghoul said in a dry tone. His gravelly voice sounded like that of a chain smoker with a bad cold, something that terrified Luka further. He tried to move away, only to find that he couldn't, but then he realized that the ghoul had spoken to Ylva.
The mad woman backed away, growling like a cornered animal. When it just about looked as if she was about to lash out and lunge at the ghoul, he calmly fired a precise warning shot right in front of Ylva's crouching form. She wailed and spun around, trying to crawl away before one of the other ghouls firmly placed a boot over her back. She went limp, and did her best to curl into a ball in between a fit of sobs.
Luka remained frozen in terror, and could do nothing but watch as the ghoul with the submachine gun now turned to him. Their eyes met, and Luka felt that they were both simply confirming to one another that Luka was in no position to crawl away, or try to run. Thuds and raised voices could be heard from inside the shack, so the creature quickly shifted his attention once more. Along with three of the four other ghouls that were not busy watching over Ylva, he raised his gun towards the shack door and waited.
"What are you up to now, you stupid bitch?" The thick accent of the man who had only been referred to as 'the Boss' passed muffled through the closed door. Moments later, the large man punched the door open, but came to an instant halt with only one foot on the ground outside, making Brick walk right into his back. Both men stumbled forward awkwardly, and shared in an equally awkward silence with the ghouls pointing their guns at them.
The ghoul in the riot vest was once again the first to break the silence, as he cleared his throat to draw attention from the two humans. "Lovely little place you have here," he said sarcastically, gesturing with his gun to the slabs of ghoul meat hanging out from the shack. "Now listen very closely, because I don't have the patience to say this more than once… You will both surrender and lay down on the ground. You will do this now, and you won't waste my time with any pointless excuses that we all know won't be leading anywhere."
Brick twitched nervously as he listened to the instructions. Once the ghoul fell silent, he instantly placed his hands over the back of his head, and fell to his knees, before lying down. The leader, however, rather obviously eyed the two crates holding up a pallet near the fire pit. His assault rifle was leaned against the makeshift table, and he began to take a few careful steps forward.
"Friends…" he began, offering a broad smile to the ghouls. "There is no need for this. Why don't you just let me-"
A loud bang rang through Luka's ears, and for a moment, Rudek's harsh glare flashed before his eyes. He looked up in confusion as he could hear both Brick's and Ylva's panicked yells, but he couldn't see anything. Their leader looked confused, though. Almost surprised. Then Luka saw the thin line of blood trickling down from a small hole in the man's forehead.
A larger, much more ragged opening was revealed in the back of the man's head as he fell forward and struck the ground. The ghoul stared blankly at the corpse for a moment, before he wheezed a sigh and turned away. Luka's eyes followed him as he shuffled over towards Ylva, who remained curled together and whimpering.
As the ghoul got close and hunched down next to her, Ylva stared back at him with wide eyes, and snapped her teeth together. She jerked herself forward, but made a frustrated sound when the boot once again pressed down and stopped her from reaching the figure before her.
"Hmm… Sorry, doll. You're too far gone." The ghoul raised his gun towards Ylva's head, and this time it was Luka who yelled when the trigger was squeezed. His eyes almost bulged as he couldn't take them off the scene, where Ylva's thrashing had suddenly stopped. He felt a sinking sensation in his stomach, convinced that he would be next.
Seemingly out of nowhere, Brick tumbled down on the ground next to him, and Luka realized he had been too consumed to see what had happened to him before now. The blonde man groaned, and Luka could see his hands had been tied.
Looking up, he saw a leather-clad ghoul with a rifle standing over them. A few sparsely placed strains of pale hair hung from her head like a curtain, and to Luka's horror, she looked straight at him.
"Paidyomte sa mnoy," she croaked, and not understanding a word, it made Luka jolt back and try to crawl away, albeit with little success. The ghoul seemed to notice and lowered her rifle, before holding her hand out. Confused with the gesture, this only caused Luka to cringe; he tried to wiggle away, struggling with his tied wrists behind his back.
The ghoul eyed him up and down before she finally sighed and moved forward in an attempt to grab him, but Luka yelped at the sudden motion and rolled to the side, bumping his head right into Brick's.
"Fucking hell! Watch it!"
Luka winced, and if Brick continued to swear at him he didn't notice. His vision had blurred from the sudden, sharp pain to his temple, and he could only barely make out the figure of the female ghoul that now turned away towards the rest of her group.
"Komandir!" she called out, and a familiar, masculine voice answered, though Luka didn't understand a word of it.
'They've reverted to ghoul-speak… they don't want us to know what they've got planned!'
Luka's mind flared up in a series of unpleasant images. He couldn't help but picture just what sort of horrors awaited him and Brick, and one of the thoughts he frequently returned to was that of being eaten alive – something that seemed several times more harrowing now that the prospect of being eaten was to be carried out by a group of deformed zombies.
"Please…" Luka blinked rapidly, and his eyes darted up towards the female ghoul. "Before you do anything else, will you at least hear us out?"
The woman cocked her head and said something else in her incomprehensible, ghoulish language, barring all chance for a proper conversation.
"Yeah… she won't understand you." Luka turned sharply to the new voice, coming from the male ghoul in the riot vest who now only stood a meter away. "You'll have better luck with me."
"You… you can speak?" Luka felt some amount of relief, and was unable to stop his voice from going up in a slightly higher pitch than he was really comfortable with.
The ghoul, in turn, gave him an annoyed look. "I thought that much was already established…"
"Yes, but- the others… you speak… my language!"
"Heh… who ever said it was yours…" The ghoul shook his head. "Now, I'm here to let you know that you and blondie are supposed to come with us, but I see you're hurt, so I've radioed for-"
"Bullshit!" Brick interrupted. "I'm not going anywhere with you, shuffler!"
Luka stared in disbelief at the blonde man, who was sitting with his chest puffed up as he glared defiantly at the ghoul, who answered with a dry, largely disinterested expression.
"And how do you figure that, blondie?" the ghoul finally asked.
"You will call me Brick, you squishy sack of rot!"
"Brick, huh?" The ghoul's mouth curled into a slight smirk. "Well, you sure seem dense as one…" He tightened the grip around his MP5 and held it up for Brick to see. "You realize I already snuffed your two friends. I've spared you so far because you haven't gone mad with rad-poisoning like the girl. Therefore, you might still be useful…" He waved his gun for emphasis. "And you do not want to prove otherwise to me, or you'll end up just like them."
Brick's chest sank down, and he glanced from his dead leader, to Ylva's limp corpse, and then hung his head, though Luka could see his jaw was clenched, and his eyes were still filled with a defiant anger.
"Now, as I was saying…" the ghoul continued, "I radioed for some transportation, mainly for him." He gestured to Luka, though keeping his eyes on Brick. "After this little outburst, though, I believe you shall have to walk by foot with the others."
Brick looked as if he was about to come up with a spiteful retort, but before he had a chance, the group was interrupted by the relatively soft roaring of an engine, off in the distance. "And that will be our transport," the ghoul noted in a surly manner as he turned to Luka. "Listen smootshkin, if I untie your hands, can I trust you not to do anything reckless?"
Luka simply nodded.
"Good." The ghoul lowered his submachine gun and pulled out a knife instead, with which he stepped around and cut the bonds. "I'll see if we can't do something about your bleeding, but patching you up more proper shall have to wait until a little later."
Luka carefully moved his arms, and massaged his sore wrists. He felt stiff, but managed to get to his feet with some help, just as a ghoul on a green motorcycle drove up to the shack and stepped off. Luka gave the machine a curious look while he was lead over to it, and as he was seated in the sidecar, he noted that it had the worn down symbol of a red star painted on its side.
The ghoul in the riot vest exchanged some words with the motorcycle's original driver, but Luka couldn't understand any of it. Instead, he noted that there was a small imprint in the hull of the sidecar. Letters, that he could read: Boudicca-78/S. The name wasn't familiar to him, so he couldn't help but wonder if it, along with the number and letter combination, suggested there were more of these things around. A motorcycle was a rare luxury back home in the borderlands, and he had heard they were uncommon even amongst the Britannian warbands, but yet these ghouls had called one in as if it was nothing.
Luka shivered as he pictured what his nightmares would look like from now on… Angry ghouls with guns had just been upgraded to a rabid biker gang of affluent zombies, who could taunt their human victims in two languages while they gunned them down…
"Open the compartment in front of you." Luka blinked and looked up, finding his ghoulish benefactor had just sat himself down in the driver's seat. "Well, go on! There should be a stimpack inside. Use it, before you smear more red gunk inside this thing!"
Luka did as he was told, and opened the compartment. There wasn't much inside, but he did find a stimpack just as promised. He held the long syringe-like device in both his hands, and suddenly realized that he had never used one of these things before. He turned to the ghoul, giving him a confused look.
"Oh for the love of…" The ghoul yanked the stimpack away, and roughly stabbed it into Luka's bare leg, before he had time to react in any other way than drawing a quick breath.
As he watched the stimpack's contents being injected through its long needle, Luka felt his leg go a little numb. Soon, a tingling sensation spread throughout his body, from his toes, and all the way out into his fingertips. He smiled to the pleasant sensation, and as he looked down, he saw that the bleeding from his two wounds had stopped almost entirely.
"Right then," the ghoul finally said and cast the used-up stimpack aside. "You've still lost quite a bit of blood, and given how easily you smoothskins break, that's probably something that should be seen to." He made a quick motion that Luka didn't quite follow, and the motorcycle roared as it came back to life.
Moments later, Luka felt the cold air of the wasteland strike against him as the motorcycle gained speed, and he hurried to close his thermal jacket and huddle down in his seat. He felt a little dizzy, and his thoughts flowed slowly as if they were forcing themselves through a thick coating of oil. "My gear… no- wait, where are you taking me!" he finally demanded.
"I'll tell you all of that once you are a little less delirious," the ghoul answered. The noises from the motorcycle forced him to raise his tone somewhat, but it didn't make such a racket that the two men had to shout.
"Regardless," Luka insisted, more curious now than frightened, "I'd feel a little better if I knew who you were."
The ghoul answered with a dry chuckle, before he bothered to speak: "We were humans. But that was long ago, as I'm sure you can tell."
Luka shook his head. "I didn't mean like that. Who are you, you specifically?"
"Me specifically, huh? I could see the fear in your eyes once we showed up… I should think regardless of your background, you'd be more concerned about us as a group."
"No." Luka once again shook his head, a little more briskly this time. "You're not like the others. You speak my-" He stopped, remembering the remark from before. "...I meant to say, you speak English. And without the typical, Rus'…ian… accent." Another pause. Luka stuck his tongue into his right cheek. "Is Rus'ian even a word?"
"Right." The ghoul grunted back. "You're rambling. I'm not sure how much of this you'll remember, but I suppose it's common courtesy that we introduce ourselves. I've already read the name off of your jacket, but how about you start, anyway."
"Luka. I'm Luka."
"Well, that was certainly… rich…" The ghoul scowled, and for a moment Luka thought he wasn't going to say anything else, but then he continued: "You were right. I am not like the others. I once was human, then for a long time, I accepted my fate as a ghoul. But I have evolved beyond that. I no longer have a true name, though the ghouls out here call me 'Commander'. But that is not entirely true either. I have reached the point where I see the world for what it truly is, and I see it for all its idiocy… That is who I am, and that is why I am expected to fulfil the role of a Commander. I am Certainty. I am Truth. And if you want a name for me… you may call me, Pravda."
Luka looked up with an uncomfortable smile after the tirade was over. He nodded slowly, without saying a word. 'Great,' he thought to himself as he looked back down into the sidecar. 'Another crazy person.'
A relatively comfortable silence followed, and the steady sound of the motorcycle's engine began to sedate Luka's mind further. He felt increasingly exhausted, and found he had a hard time keeping his eyes open. He could hear Pravda say something, but the croaky voice seemed distant, only serving to rock Luka deeper into his slumber. Once again the ghoul called out, and moments later, the motorcycle's engine roared a little louder. But he wasn't bothered; instead he closed his eyes, and drifted off into the darkness.
'Luka! Where are you! LUKA!'
The screams echoed once more through his mind, and Luka found himself shooting up in a seated position. He felt jolts of pain coursing through his leg from the sudden movement, but he didn't care. As far as he knew, he was still back in the Borderlands, on that day, in that moment…
And there was only one thing on his mind.
Looking wildly around him, he was surprised to find that he was inside a small room, sitting on an examining table. He blinked in confusion at the thin blanket resting over his legs and lower body, but finally, the memories of the past weeks slowly began to wash over him once more.
Luka relaxed, but only barely. As he recalled, he was still in something of a predicament. These ghouls… or whatever they were, hadn't said what they wanted him for, and he could still imagine a whole range of things, mostly leaning towards less and less pleasant.
Looking under the blanket, he found that his leg wounds had been treated and bandaged, however, and from the slight pull he felt from the wounds, he guessed they had also been stitched. He stopped as he also noticed a small needle taped to his wrist, along with a length of tubing. He ripped the tape off, and pulled the needle out.
'Did they keep me sedated? No… or well, maybe, but this has to be a medical facility… so…'
On a chair next to the examining table, Luka found a change of clothes. The black jeans looked like they had never been worn before, even though they were obviously from before the war. And while he liked the colour of his old denims better, Luka found this to be a rare treat.
At first, he struggled to put the jeans on, as it caused him some discomfort to stand, but finally he sat himself back on the table while he pulled them up over his legs, and they proved to fit him perfectly. Feeling uplifted, he put on a new pair of socks as well, and then finally picked up a black T-shirt from the chair. He recognized it as his own, but noted that it had been washed, and even ironed.
'Another extravagance…'
Looking around, he also found his boots, but he couldn't find his jacket, or any of his other equipment. But he felt much better about his situation, and began to suspect that he could just ask about that later. He limped over to the door and gave it a push, then a pull, but it remained unmoving.
'Locked?' Luka scowled. He had been treated for his injuries, given new clothes, and was even left unguarded… but was he a prisoner after all? He looked up to the walls, and suddenly felt as if they had begun to lean in over him. And had the roof always been that low?
His eyes wandered uncomfortably over the room, until they settled on a desk near the examining table. He went to look at the items lying out on top of it, finding several types of surgical tools including scalpels, needles, and a few items he couldn't even identify. He went through them all and grabbed a few, including a long scalpel with a bent hook at the end, and a few sturdy, long needles. They were certainly improvised lock picks, but they would have to do.
Returning to the door, Luka had to go through several of the items he had picked up, until he found a combination that worked. He found that the cylinder of the lock gave in a little more when he tried to turn it counter-clockwise, and realized that was the way he had to work it. He proceeded to carefully push up the pins inside the lock, feeling a coat of sweat form on his forehead as he concentrated on the task. A few painstaking minutes, and two failures later, he finally managed to slide the cylinder up. He heard a satisfying click as the door unlocked, and he carefully opened it.
He peered out into a dimly lit, empty hallway, and felt instantly relieved to step out of the cramped room. But as soon as he did, he realized what this must look like; regardless of whether he was a prisoner or not, he had just escaped from his room, showing very little faith in those who were nursing him back to health.
For a moment, he considered going back into his room, but the thought of the enclosed walls stopped him, and instead, he gripped the lock picks tighter in his hands. He wasn't going to leave himself at the mercy of anyone, least of all a band of ghouls, and so he proceeded to sneak down the dark corridor.
The hallway felt unpleasant as well, but at least out here it was the looming darkness in the distance that suggested the space was in any way limited, and darkness, unlike a wall, could be passed through to reach the light on the other side. But it wasn't long until Luka spotted cracks of light seeping out from underneath another door. This one also had a window in it, so Luka decided to stand up and peer through it. The interior was bland and grey, and the room was empty save for one lone figure.
'Brick.'
Luka scowled; he really just wanted to leave without giving the man a second thought, but fleeing would be easier if they worked together. Then again, did he really want to release a self-professed cannibal upon the wastes again?
But the hesitation had been long enough for Brick to catch a glimpse of him in the window and jump to his feet. He called out, and although the sound was muffled through the door, Luka was scared that the noise would attract attention. He gave Brick a nod and gestured for him to be quiet, then hurried to pick the lock.
The door quietly slid open, and Luka stepped inside to cut Brick's hands free from their bonds. The scalpel sliced easily through the rope, and soon, Brick stood freed and ready to be unleashed on the world once more. He grinned wickedly at Luka, who could practically feel Karma reel its head at him, point a finger and go: 'I saw that.'
"Hey, thanks!" Brick exclaimed, but after noticing Luka's frantic waving he lowered his voice. "So… we in any danger?"
"Not right now," Luka whispered back. "But we should get out of here…" Brick stared at him, making no move to speak, so Luka continued. "Don't worry, I have a plan. We should find that motorcycle that carried me here, or one like it, and we'll drive it to the closest human settlement we can find… once there, we barter it away for new equipment and essentials, and then we go separate ways."
Brick sneered. "You make it sound so easy… but you realize we are out in the middle of nowhere, right? How do we even begin to find any settlements?"
"Well… I had rather hoped you could help with that," Luka admitted.
"I only saw ruins and more ghouls when they marched me here…" Brick growled angrily. "Two days, it took to walk… I hope you've been comfortable with that killer freak!"
Luka blinked. Two days? Had he been out for that long? "What direction did they lead you during all that time?" he finally asked. "North? East? South?"
Brick glared angrily. "How the hell should I know?"
"Right…" Luka peered out into the dark hallway once more. "We shall just have to think on our feet." He motioned for Brick to follow. "Come on!"
The two men continued through the monstrously long hallway, which Luka had started to think of as more like a tunnel through a cave than a proper building. They hurried past two side-corridors, keeping a steady pace mainly because Brick never seemed to have heard about the concept of sneaking before this moment.
"I swear…" Brick grumbled, "I hope that freak who captured us is in here, somewhere…"
Luka felt mildly uncomfortable hearing the blonde man's malevolent tone, and gave him a searching look before he whispered back: "Brick… you won't go off on a wild rampage just as we can taste freedom, will you?"
"Guess not, but…" The blonde man's eyes narrowed. "Two days! If someone deserves their neck snapped, it's that fucking shuffler."
"His name is Pravda," Luka noted, surprised to find a hint of annoyance in his own voice.
Brick shrugged pointedly. "Whatever."
Luka let the exchange drop, as the looming blackness in the hallway in front of them had started to fade with each step. At last, at the end of the room, he could see another door. There were no cracks of light from the keyhole or from underneath the door, so he waved for Brick to be still while he rested his ear towards its smooth, cold surface.
Unable to hear anything from the other side, Luka finally tugged at the door. Ever so carefully, he opened it, though he nearly jumped when its hinges creaked softly in the darkness.
There was no source of light inside, so Luka kept the door open, but to his disappointment he soon found that the room was a dead end. It was small, and seemed to be a storage space. He was about to close it and turn back when he could hear Brick make an excited sound and head inside.
The blonde man bumped into Luka as he passed by, and nearly made him lose his balance, but as he followed into the room, he saw what he had missed. The room was indeed a storage space, and aside from an assorted number of weaponry that Brick had busied himself by looking through, Luka also spotted a familiar jacket, a worn hunting rifle, a Beretta, and a backpack.
Luka went for the jacket first, carefully tracing his fingers over it before putting it on. It felt like reuniting with an old friend, but not as much as when he gripped his hunting rifle and swung it over his shoulder. As he continued to place the Beretta's holster to his good leg, he could see Brick rummage around in the corner of his eye; out of all the perfectly good assault rifles lined against the wall, he ignored them all and settled for a piece of iron pipe.
"Really? You're going for the pipe?" Luka held back a sigh as he saw Brick grin back at him.
"Well… yeah." The blonde man nodded. "Guns jam and need reloading, you know… And besides," he made a gesture for the line of assault rifles, "I don't know how far out west you're from, but AK47's can be found all over the place out here. If we're in a tight spot, I'll find one on the road."
Luka wasn't entirely convinced, but he finally nodded anyway. "Okay, fine. I guess it's better if we travel lightly. I really need my guns, but I guess I can leave my backpack behind. It will just slow me down."
"Now that's more like it!" Brick beamed wickedly, and didn't even bother to lower his voice this time. "Now, let's go find some shuffler skulls to bash in!"
Luka stopped halfway in the motion of holstering his Beretta, staring up at Brick. "…what? I thought we'd agreed on a plan. And…" He frowned. "I thought you assured me that you'd be… rampage-free."
"Well that was before we got armed!" Brick exclaimed. "Come on, we can't let these bastards off! They killed my friends, and besides…" He held up a number of fingers. "TWO DAYS!"
"Oh boohoo!" Luka called back, also raising his voice. All thoughts of discretion had passed from his mind, as he felt anger and frustration take hold again. For a moment he saw Ylva's stupid head flash before his eyes, then the can of Nuka Vodka, and Brick bending over to laugh at him. "Two days?" he asked mockingly. "Did your poor widdle feet catch blisters? Do you have any idea how far I've travelled to get here?"
"Well what of it. I'm sure you're used to-"
"I've been chased, shot, nearly eaten by the people I thought I was saving, and if you think forced marches are so fucking bad, try again once you have a bullet wound in your leg!" Luka glared daggers at Brick, who stared back in annoyance. Something about the man's face made it impossible for Luka to stop: "And that was all just in one day! Too bad they killed your friends, but guess what? Those two were human trash! Ylva was a deranged lunatic, and your leader was twice as thick as you, which is a goddamn feat in itself!"
"Did you just call me stupid?!" Brick yelled back. "Fuck you, man! Perhaps I'll bash your head in as well!"
Luka swiftly raised his Beretta just as Brick seemed about to take a step forward. "Don't try it."
"Oh, so that's it then… You're siding with the shufflers?" Brick glowered angrily, though Luka could see the primal fear in his eyes. The kind that only comes from staring down the barrel of a gun.
Luka hissed between his gritted teeth. "I guess I have no choice. Letting you out was a mistake, and I can't have a liability following me around." He knew there was only one way out of this. He'd have to shoot Brick. Despite his anger, Luka felt a little uneasy at the thought, but decided that he should at least make it clean. He wasn't going to be like Rudek…
As he pressed his finger to the trigger mechanism, and adjusted his hand for better aim, Luka heard a faint clicking sound, followed by something clattering to the floor below him. Both Luka and Brick looked down, one staring with disbelief at the ammo clip that had just fallen out of the pistol, while the other's gaze darted up with a gleeful look.
'Shit! Something must have damaged the magazine catch!' Luka slowly looked back up to return Brick's gaze with a sheepish smile. "Err… I don't suppose there's time to back this conversation up a bit?"
Brick grinned wickedly and shook his head. He spun the iron pipe around, and as soon as Luka reached for his rifle, Brick knocked it out of his hands. "Nono, we will have none of that," he said tauntingly. He was about to continue, when a loud cough from the direction of the door interrupted him.
Luka turned quickly to see a dark silhouette by the door, with hunched shoulders and some sort of gun pointed into the room. "You two sure cause a racket," the figure dryly noted, and Luka recognized the raspy voice instantly.
'Pravda…'