They retreated back into the underground passageway.
“Let’s see what he’s going to do,” Arefiev whispered. “We’ve got a good view from here.”
It looked as though the man was filling his flask. But then he stood up and they could see his military fatigues. He was unmasked.
“We have to go back,” Arefiev whispered, and they staggered up the underground passageway.
The way back was even longer and more tortuous. Milla tried to walk by herself but she could barely move her legs. Arefiev picked her up again. Neither of them spoke.
They reached their cubbyhole at last.
“I want to stay here,” she said, and he lowered her carefully onto the bed.
“What are we going to do?” he asked. “You need a doctor.”
“I already have one,” she countered, and put her head on his knees.
“No, you might need
