"They spotted us!" A voice crackled over the radio. "Moving to another firing position!"
Pavel was taking cover in the top of two story building. His back to the wall, a window just above his head. At least half of his force had fallen to the "khodunki" as the men had called them. He poked his head up just enough to see over the window sill. He glimpsed a crude pyrotechnic rocket spiraling out from a decrepit building down the block, it struck a khodunki in the face with no effect. He ducked down again. He only had 2 magazines left for his Kalash, he did have a sticky grenade, but explosives were equally ineffective. He decided to call a retreat, he was surrounded and cut off, but he still had his radio.
"Loyal comrades of the Red Line," He began, clutching the small black device tightly. "We have done all we can do, retreat to Teatr."
"Aye, Comrade Colonel." A voice responded.
"Comrade Colonel," Pavel never tired of hearing that. After the battle of D6, he had vowed to become the next leader of the red line. He was no longer content with simply following orders. His actions led him to betray a friend, not to mention it nearly destroyed the metro and cost him his life. He would become the next Secretary General.
The shooting subsided not long after. Pavel was on his own now. He took a deep breath and scanned the room, he spied a broken picture sitting face up on the dirty carpet. A picture of a young couple dressed for a wedding. Pavel leaned back against the wall, sighing deeply.
"Why didn't I try to find a woman?" He asked himself aloud. "What a waste of a life this turned into." The thundering footsteps of a khodunki shook the room. Pavel tensed up as the sound grew louder. Keep walking you bitch He tightened his grip on his Kalash, his finger resting on the trigger. The sound stopped, it was likely just outside. Pavel decided to take a chance, he sprinted towards the stairway. The khodunki's hand came crashing through the window, chipping off parts of the wall as well, showering Pavel with debris. A chunk of brick struck his calf, he stumbled forward. He grabbed hold of the handrail to steady his balance, the rail ripped out of the wall and Pavel tumbled down the stairs. He winced in pain as he staggered to his feet. His mask had a crack in the right corner, it wasn't enough to cause any immediate danger, but he definitely had to be more careful. The building shook a second time, knocking pictures of the walls. The khodunki was trying to reach through the front door, but its hand had become stuck at the wrist. It was now trying to free its hand, shaking the building in the process.
The cracking of timber began to ring through the building as the khodunki pulled to no avail. He's going to bring the whole place down. Pavel needed a way out, and he needed it now. His eyes fell upon a door, shaken open by the impacts, revealing a stairway leading down. Thank god, a basement. He sprinted down the stairs just as the building came down. "Fuck!" he shouted, turning around and examining the wall of debris that now blocked the stairs. Great idea genius! Now you're fucking trapped! He threw his Kalash to the ground in frustration. Switching on his headlamp, he took a look around. His frustration and fear vanished instantly when he noticed Ranger Insignia on the wall.
The basement was unfinished, stone floor, stone walls, ductwork on the ceiling. Down the hall, he found an airtight door. Looks like I'm in luck. He shut the door. An air filter sat in the corner, he switched it on. Within minutes, the air was breathable. After checking the breaker box, he managed to get the lights on. He analyzed his surroundings, the room was pretty empty, a filthy cot and a wooden table with a few bits of equipment. The walls were stone, painted white, the floor, concrete, a small blue rug sat in the center. He pulled off his gas mask and wiped the sweat off his face. Well, let's see if anything can get me out of here. He took a look at the various odds and ends on the table. He found some stray bullets, a pair of gas masks with filters, and an incendiary grenade. The rest was all junk. After pounding on the table in anger, he decided to take a second look in case he missed something. He wasn't expecting anything, but he had nothing else to do. To his delight he found 2 blocks of PVV-5A underneath a racy magazine. This should be able to clear the debris, it even has a blasting cap. The plastic explosives were his key to freedom, all he needed was a wire and he could send an electric signal with his charger. He looked around and discovered plenty of unused cables tacked to the ceiling. Looks like I'll live after all.
A burst of steam filled the room, Pavel jumped to the wall, covering his face from the heat. The steam dissipated quickly, strange considering he was in an airtight room. A kid was now standing in the corner, a frightened look on his face. The stranger looked between 14 and 15, with long blonde hair. In his hands was a single blade like weapon. "Who the hell are you?" Pavel asked, taking a step forward, his head cocked sideways with curiosity. The kid stayed still. Pavel took another step forward so that he was in arms reach. "Who are you?" He demanded a second time. The kid lunged forward with his blade, letting out a scream that seemed more fear than bravery. Pavel dodged to the side, catching the boy's sword arm and swinging him into the wall. A ringing clang echoed through the room as the sword hit the floor. Pavel drew his knife and held against the boy's throat. "I don't want to hurt you!" He shouted. Surely if anyone else tried this, Pavel would have gutted them on the spot. But there was something eerily familiar about this kid. A memory played in his head, his shootout with Artyom at the red square. He remembered his life flashing before his eyes, one particular memory stood out. A young pavel staring at himself in a broken mirror during his first mission to the surface, the image distorted, he could only make out his blue eyes from behind his gas mask.
Tears started to well up in the kid's eyes. Shit, this kid must've gone through hell. "I-I- My name is Armin Arlet." The boy stammered out.
Pavel sheathed his knife and took a step back. He extended his hand for a handshake. "Pavel Morozov." Armin returned the handshake, not making eye contact.
"Please, sir, can you tell me where I am?" Armin asked, weakly.
"You don't have to get all formal with me," Pavel chuckled. "We're all brothers in the underground."
Armin responded with a confused look
"It's a saying we have 'round here." Pavel explained. "You're in a cellar in Moscow, the building has collapsed on top of us, but I know how to get us out."
"I don't think—Im not familiar with—"Armin said, struggling to find his words.
"Calm down kid," Pavel said, with a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Think of me as an older brother. Ok?"
Armin nodded in response.
"Alright, now just sit tight, I'm going to get us out of here." Pavel picked up the explosives and tore piece of wire from the ceiling. He placed both blocks together at the foot of the rubble. He only had one blasting cap, so he had to use both pieces at once. He strung the wire back and shut the door, allowing just enough of an opening to feed the wire through. Armin still stood in the corner, his eyes following a mutated spider scurrying across the floor. "You know what?" Pavel said, the boy looked up. "I can't help but like you, you remind me a lot of myself at your age. Hopefully, that means you're a dead-eye shot too." Pavel pulled his revolver from his holster and tossed it to Armin, the boy caught it, jumping at the unexpected action. Armin studied the metal contraption curiously. "You do know how to use one of these, right?"
"No, I—I don't even know what it is." Armin replied, handing the pistol back to Pavel.
"In that case, I better hold on to it so you don't shoot yourself." Pavel said, holstering the pistol "You seem to know how to handle that blade, hold on to that." Armin scooped his blade off the floor. Pavel handed him a gas mask. "Put this on." Pavel said, putting on his own mask.
"Sir—Pavel, what are the masks for?" Armin asked, clumsily pulling the mask over his face.
Sheesh, does this kid have amnesia or what? "It's for the air," he answered, fixing his charger to the cable. "You may want to cover your ears." Armin followed Pavel's advice. Pavel squeezed the handle, the crackling of electricity was heard for a split second followed by an explosion. Bits of debris pelted the steel door.
"Well, let's get going." Pavel said, motioning forward. The pair emerged from the underground, winding up face to face with a 5-meter khodunki. Armin didn't look nearly as scared as Pavel anticipated him to be. Although he definitely seemed surprised. "Shit, and here I thought we were in the clear."
The khodunki took a step towards them, the two sprinted to the nearest opening, an alley way just nearby. They were met with a dead end, initially hidden in the shadows. the khodunki stood opposite to them. C'mon there has to be—there! Pavel spotted a door. He turned the knob. Locked, Shit! He began ramming into the door with his shoulder in an attempt to break it down. "C'mon!" He yelled frantically.
"Pavel…" Armin said "Pavel, the titan…"
"What?" Pavel shouted in a panicked tone.
"It's not attacking us…"
Pavel looked back, the creature was standing in the alley, at least 20 feet away, but it wouldn't move any closer. What the hell? Pavel turned his attention back to the door. The last thing he wanted was the thing coming after them again. The door gave way with a loud crack, Pavel stumbled into the building, landing on his hands and knees. He looked up to see a small child, 5 years old. The child had no mask, blood was pouring from all orifices on his face.
"Papa?" The bloody child asked.
Pavel jerked away with a small yell, landing on his backside.
"What? What happened?" Armin asked, helping Pavel back to his feet. Pavel looked around to discover the child had vanished. He began laughing. "Are you okay?" Armin asked, his face contorting in concern.
"It was scared!" Pavel shouted joyously, he never thought he would be happy to see a ghost. "That big sonofabitch was scared! That's why he didn't chase us!"
"Scared of what?" Armin inquired.
"Oh just you wait." Pavel answered, dropping to a more serious tone. "You'll know it when you see it." They stepped through the mess of broken toys that filled the room. "Hey! I used to have one of these," He said, picking up a 6 inch toy soldier. He stuffed the object into his coat pocket.
"Um… Pavel." Armin asked, a tinge of fear in his voice. "You hear the baby crying, don't you?"
"Well looks like you found a ghost, where is the sound coming from?"
"Upstairs, but what if—"
Pavel cut him off. "It's not real, a baby wouldn't last more than a few seconds out here. Now we know to stay out of the upstairs."
They reached the other side of the room. Pavel opened the door to find the next room filled with rotten corpses, an eerie whispering could be heard, just barely. Armin was showing some signs of uneasiness, Pavel himself wasn't eager to step in either, but it was the only way to the other door. "Well, let's press on." Pavel said, placing his foot carefully, to avoid touching the bodies. No more than halfway through, Pavel heard Armin scream.
He whipped around, Kalash in hand. Armin's sword was drawn, the boy was slashing and blocking as though he was fighting an invisible opponent. His torso jerked back, he let out a whimper and dropped his sword before falling to the ground. Shit! Pavel rushed over, he didn't care he was stepping on bodies. He took a pulse, the boy was still alive, but unconscious. Pavel picked him up in a firemans carry. C'mon, don't die on me. He sprinted out into the street, just in front of him was the square, the same square he and Artyom had crossed all those years ago. He knew to avoid the crashed plane this time. Luckily, he was on the opposite side, getting into Teatr wouldn't be as long a trip. He sprinted onward, eager to leave the surface, and the khondunki, and retreat to the safety of the metro. Maybe catch a show at the Bolshoi, anything, just enjoy being alive.
A bestial howl echoed across the square, he whipped around to see a lone watchman sitting in the street. Its head held high as it howled. Fucking watchmen, it's fucking déjà vu today! He kept up his sprint as the watchmen flooded the street. He was no more than 20 meters from Teatr, but he couldn't effectively defend himself with his Kalash. He pulled his revolver and began firing backwards with one hand, reloading would be the hard part. Gunfire erupted from the station building, he could hear a few watchmen howl in pain behind him.
"Shit! Its comrade Colonel!" one of the soldiers exclaimed. Pavel crossed the threshold and sprinted down the escalator. The soldiers followed. The door opened quickly and Pavel ducked inside. The flamethrowers couldn't fire until the other men were out of the way. The creatures lit up like match sticks when the flamers finally cut loose. The flames engulfing their hairy bodies as they screeched in agony. But they didn't fire soon enough, Pavel felt a pair of claws sink into his calves and he tumbled forward, dropping Armin in the process. The watchman hopped on his back, slashing through his jacket. A flurry of gunfire erupted, the creature was no longer atop him.
"Comrade Colonel? Are you hurt?" A soldier asked, kneeling beside him.
Pavel's back was definitely cut, luckily not too deep, his legs on the other hand, were pretty mangled. "I'm fine, Igor. Get that kid to a doctor, there's no telling what he went through."