CHAPTER TWELVE

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Watching the stairs and windows for any surprise guests, I stand near the door as my heart pounds like distant artillery.

Boris tucks the sheets securely under the mattress. He had insisted on grabbing fresh ones that weren't riddled with ripping and tears from the closet down the hall. I didn't see the purpose but I decided to help carry and fit them anyways.

While he does some prayers over Grigori's body, I clench the pistol in my pocket with white knuckles. Anyone could attack us at any moment. We've been out in the open for too long for this to possibly be safe.

Finally Boris finishes and stands up, giving me a tearful half-smile.

My gaze shifts to Grigori, the hole in his now slightly inward caving skull and the wrinkles forming on his skin as he slowly dries out like a slice of meat disrupts his otherwise well kept and handsome appearance.

I certainly never would have guessed him to be a veteran, save for maybe his clean-shaven beard, a standard back when we were in the army in case we were to ever need to use a gas mask. We never got those gas masks. We rarely ever got the supplies we needed.

The regular shipments were typically a little bit of food and a box or two of bullets every few weeks if we got lucky. The enemy was so good at knocking out our logistics that it was frequent that Boris and I would go months without so much as even a single order from command.

We could've been surrounded and not even have been the wiser until we started to starve and left the position to go forage for some berries if they were in season.

Boris's hand slips onto mine, our fingers locking together, bringing me out of my little remembrance, "Пойдем вместе, Avery?"

I look him in the eyes with a cheerful little smile, my worries melting away with the sight of his compassionate eyes and red cheeks. He acts out of love, not out of survival as I do.

A twinge of guilt makes my smile split for a mere second. When we would suddenly come under fire back in the war, I dropped to the ground looking for the enemy to kill them, and he would drop to the ground looking for me to make sure I was alright. He was the perfect battle buddy and the perfect friend. Something I, try as I might, could never truly be for him.

His hand brushes my cheek as if slowly wiping invisible snow off my face, "Avery, ты в порядке?"

A warm tingly feeling blooms in my stomach, nearly making me chuckle a little. I look at him with a stupid smile across my face.

Suddenly I remember the corpse in the room. Not here.

I give Boris a nod and begin walking downstairs with his hand trailing in mine, "Давай, сладкий!"

He chuckles and playfully slaps the back of my head when we make it down the stairs.

Not here either. Some of the bodies in the two rows have begun to give off a foul smell.

I grab my full bag and sling it over my shoulder. Slipping my hand into Boris's, we step through the window and jump down the small ledge onto the sidewalk.

The sun's beginning to set. We start walking, joined by our hands, to the rendezvous point to meet back up with Anastasia and the rest.

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