Lost Count

Volga

Artyom liked being on his own, now more than ever. As he trudged across the swampy and slushy mess of snow and mud, he felt his mind clear and heart lighten. The first time, other than his dreams, where he could roam free. No mask. Life had been tough these past couple of days. He'd lost everything, and nearly everyone. Now here he was, searching evermore for a way forwards, a way to help.

He let his back fall against a wooden post. It had been a long time since he left the group to find a man who could help repair their train. The Aurora was faring badly after damages done by bandits and the cultists who made the river their home. And Artyom was glad to be the one sent away; he still needed some time alone after all that had happened. He would have liked to have Pavel come with him, but he was still avoiding Artyom. That made the Ranger furrow his brow and swallow worriedly. He slid down the post and sat on the cold ground, bending his knees and resting his arms on them.

A deep sigh; a gaze cast towards the night sky. Stars dotted the expanse of emptiness, swirling and sparkling. In Moscow they hadn't been visible due to the almost constant cloud cover, only the moon bright enough to shine through. Occasionally you would get the odd twinkle or two, but nothing this intense. So he was quickly overcome at the sight. He was free. Finally. But at what cost?

Even though he disliked living in the Metro, it was still his home for almost his entire life. And now he would never be able to return. Never be able to flip through old books at VDNKh's library, never be able to sit around the communal fire and swap stories with his fellow station-dwellers, never be able to hug his stepfather again. Sukhoi... What was he thinking right now? He was waiting for Artyom to come home, probably. With baited breath, eager to see his son again. Artyom's eyes stung at those thoughts, at the fact that the man would forever wonder where the child he raised had gone. Whether or not he perished to mutants or the radiation. This was probably torture for him...

Artyom sniffled and wiped his eyes. Now wasn't a good time to be dwelling on what was lost.

He could see the crane from here. Krest would be there, Katya had told him. Artyom stood and brushed off his legs, stretching his back and getting ready for another long trek onward. A quick look back towards the way he came before he set off once more, feet leaving imprints in the snow.

~*~

Pavel was sitting on the edge of the railroad, away from the train and the other Rangers upon it. most of them were asleep by now, with one of them staying up to keep watch. Pavel could feel the back of his neck crawl whenever eyes were on him. It was nerve-wracking. He knew none of these people except in passing, save for Anna and Duke. Duke wasn't even here now, not that Pavel minded. He'd preferred being left alone by that young whelp anyways. But Anna still put him on edge, especially with her parting words last time they spoke.

Artyom was gone. He had left to find an engineer to help fix the train. Pavel wanted to go with him, but refrained from doing so. He was still angry. At Artyom? Perhaps. He couldn't even describe it. While he was overjoyed at the fact that Artyom had been right all along, and the Ranger was now pursuing his dream of finding his home on the surface, Pavel couldn't help but feel slightly out of place and almost resentful. The Metro had been his home, his family. To have it all torn away in a single day was more than a little disconcerting. And if Artyom hadn't taken him that day, then...

He would have never seen him again. Pavel sighed and looked up at the starry night sky, filled with pinpricks of light. If Artyom had gone without him then Pavel would have lived the rest of his life wondering if he'd ever return. If he had finally lost it, finally gotten caught by a pack of Watchmen or a flock of Demons. Or even succumbed to radiation poisoning, alone and cold in buildings that should have been safe. That had been safe until two decades ago.