Chapter 3: Scorched Earth
Paris, France. October 6, 2016
Aaron Gungnir, Civilian
Cat and I exited our apartment to find the halls shredded.
"Let's go down the stairwell," I said decisively. We found it at the end of the hallway, and we started to go down. We got about one floor down before we heard a door open on the street level. We heard russian conversation. I made us go into the hall of the 2nd floor to hide. I heard one of them say "Sto," the Russian word for "What." So, I could tell they heard us open the door.
I told Cat, concerned, "Keep quiet. I'll take care of this."
We crawled behind the door, where it would open, and I pulled out a knife. Next, the door opened, and a man in a heavy Russian military uniform came out armed with an AK-74u. He walked straight, and as his back was to me, I lunged onto his back, held his mouth shut, and stabbed him in the neck. Blood spurted everywhere as he flinched before collapsing forward on his knees then falling in a pool of blood.
"Aaron... h... holy shit, you killed him..." Cat whispered, breathing deeply, and stuttering. Her eyes stared at the blood all over the carpet, as she gasped, and seemed to twitch.
"Try to think of them as," I paused to think, "animals. Try animals." I said, trying to explain myself.
I took the AK, and a few magazines in the soldier's jacket, as well as a combat knife. My pockets were now full, and I thought all this would suffice. I stabbed him again in the back of the neck with his combat knife for good measure. Cat was whispering gutral words to herself for a while after that.
I opened the door quietly to see the second russian on the street level of the wide stairwell. There were 2 floors below that for employees and garages. I took Cat's hand and I grabbed the bloody knife I salvaged from the russian. I dropped it down the stairwell to the 2nd basement floor. The soldier heard the clink of it against the floor and headed down the stairs. I took Cat and tiptoed down the stairs to ground level. The russian saw the knife, readied his weapon, then entered the garage on the bottom level. We left the stairwell to enter the foyer of our apartment complex.
Still holding Cat's hand I told her, "I know a place where we can be safe."
She followed, but she was still very afraid, and still obviously in shock. The city was deserted with distant gunfire here and there. A surprising amount of buildings were intact, but I didn't expect it to last. I brought us down Rue de Temple, a narrow street, practically an alley, to avoid detection. We were able to walk down for some time until we found the Centre Pompidou, at Rue Saint-Merri. A helicopter flew down the street, and I pushed us against the buildings, in the hope that it didn't see us.
Cat, still cursing, told me, "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, Aaron, I can't do this..." and she began to cry.
"Cat..." I pulled her into an abandoned store and had her sit on the floor, as I kneeled in front of her. I set a hand on her shoulder. "Cat, i know you can do this. I know."
"Prove it!" she cried at me, with her hands in her face.
I took her hands and wrapped them around me. She always said it made her feel safe. After that, I took the magnum out of her pocket and put it in her hand. But, with the gun in her hand, she lunged to hug me. I hugged her back as tight as i could. After our hug of reassurance, we were able to summon the courage to keep moving.
After that, we headed west, down the road. Our final destination was going to be a church. The church was the Eglise St. Eustache, and it would suffice to keep us safe for the time being. Luckily we were able to walk in the front doors of the church without having any more scary encounters. Cat and I quickly found the main chapel, and rested on the benches. We hung around the building until dusk. We hadn't eaten all day.