Lost Count

Confront

"Artyom, there are bad people. Many. Very red."

The voice of the Little Dark One echoed in his thoughts as he slid down the dirt slope into the Red Square. This was the final leg of his journey to find Pavel; the man would be here, somewhere. Artyom's booted feet landed heavily on the ground, and he held his rifle closer to him. He glanced around quickly, eyes darting to and fro in order to get a quick assessment of the setting. Lots of potential cover, upturned and cannibalized cars were frequent. Large wooden beams and pallets were resting on their sides in order to stand up at slight angles.

But no people. Artyom could feel the complete lack of lifeforms where he was. There was no one there on the ground level. But that didn't mean he thought the Little Dark One was lying. There was a bond between them, and Artyom wasn't sure if the Little One could lie to him even if he tried. Maybe he didn't even know how to be dishonest. So that meant these people were somewhere else, somewhere nearby. He just couldn't see them. His gaze moved up the sides of the walls, to the openings and sweeping arches.

Definitely there. But waiting?

Artyom took a few more steps into the clearing. There was a dead body to his right, turned onto its stomach and clutching something tightly. Bullet holes riddled the corpse and flies had started buzzing around it. Artyom moved a little closer and nudged the body with the tip of his boot, turning it over to its back. The gas mask was cracked open and filters gone, nothing salvageable there. And as Artyom knelt down to inspect it further, he saw that it hadn't started decomposing yet. It was still fresh, maybe a few hours old.

Artyom was grateful that his own gas mask filtered out smells along with everything else.

Turning back to the center of the Square, he hefted his rifle and continued walking. There were a few more slumped corpses in various areas, and Artyom checked each one for any useful supplies before moving on. There wasn't much, but you had to take what you could get from those who came before you. A few guns were discarded at the feet of the bodies like they had thrown them down onto the ground. A quick check to the weapons revealed they still had ammunition inside, and Artyom eagerly stripped them down to replenish his dangerously low stocks.

There was another body draped over a car, headlamp still on and flickering. He lowered himself to the ground in order to inspect the state of the corpse. Shot multiple times, but the gas mask was intact still. And it was in much better shape than Artyom's current one. His had a large crack right down the center of his face, splintering into hairline scratches. It was serviceable, but this new mask was free of damage. So he quickly tore his off and secured the other onto his face. He tightened the straps and screwed a new filter into the receptacle, finally taking a deep breath once it was safe.

He stood and took a glance over at the closed gates leading into the building, sizing up how best to get through. They were fortified with wooden panels, just like most of the rest of the openings. A voice, muffled by the filter of a gas mask, rang out across the Square. It was familiar, and Artyom realized with a heavy heart who its owner was.

"Op-pa! One more!"

Two spotlights turned on with a large booming sound, illuminating the open space and nearly blinding Artyom with their intense glare.

"Put your weapon on the ground and hands behind your head!" Pavel called out again, this time accompanied by the green shine of laser sights. Soldiers lined the walls of the second story, hiding behind columns and aiming their weapons at Artyom. If this situation wasn't so dangerous and delicate, he would have found it funny. All of them, just to bring down one man? Instead of following the voice's orders, Artyom gripped his rifle tighter and pulled it close to his body. He squared his feet and set his jaw under the mouthpiece of his mask. He hadn't come this far to die at the hands of these communists. "That wasn't a question," Pavel said, a new laser pointing right at the center of Artyom's chest.