Taking Lives

Chapter 2. Baptism by Fire (5)

"No, no, no!" Igor insisted fiercely. "Andrey, are you completely insane or something? It's not enough that you risked my head, and we both narrowly escaped, now you want to walk right into the tiger's mouth? Does your head hurt anywhere? Did someone hit you with something and you didn't notice? With a shovel, maybe? No? Are you sure?"

"Stop being sarcastic," Andrey snapped nervously. "These people are professionals. They're former military men, they know what needs to be done and how…"

"Even aliens with blasters—they're finished! It's as if you don't know who the 'wolves' are and what they do to those who try to oppose them. All that'll remain of your professionals will be tainted air. Well, maybe a pile of brown stuff. No, brother, you've definitely lost your mind."

Andrey took several deep breaths, calming his nerves and collecting his thoughts. He'd been trying for a good hour to convince Igor of Gronin's correctness and his position.

‒ Okay. I'll tell you what. I was whining the other day, just like you are now, about how the "wolves" are so terrifying, how confronting them is like death, how they'll catch everyone and skin you alive. I was howling like a beaten w***e, basically.

Igor winced with displeasure, but remained silent, even though a caustic retort was about to burst out.

"Major Rodionov told me something about that," Andrey continued. "He said that when you stick your head in the sand, your ass is exposed, and you'll definitely get screwed. For those of you on the armored train, let me explain: this means that hiding, whining, and begging for mercy is for weaklings. And beaten whores. The major said it's better to die standing than to live on your knees. And you know, Igor, I completely agree with him."

The brother wanted to interject something, but Andrey stopped him with a gesture and continued.

"You and I wandered around for six months like two idiots, not knowing which way to go. We knew nothing at all, and we would have wandered forever, trying in vain to reach Volgograd, and by the end of the summer, we would have simply died of hunger. Our decision to stay in Prokhorovka was the best one we ever made on our own. Maybe we would have lived there our whole lives, digging in the soil, hunting, and picking berries in the forest, growing wild, finally forgetting that we once had brains, and not only had an understanding of the different types of s**t since childhood... Knowing you, I'm sure you'd be incredibly "happy" to spend the rest of your life picking at cow dung.

He emphasized the word “happy” with a gesture, paused briefly, again gesturing to shut Igor’s mouth, and continued.

"But the 'wolves' didn't even give us such a worthless life. They wanted to take even that away... and almost succeeded. But despite your sarcasm, your attacks, and the nonsense you've spouted here, I know you're no fool, and you understand perfectly well that wherever we hide, wherever we settle, having escaped them, the 'wolves' will come. And if not them, then some 'tigers,' 'boars,' or 'wild Scrooge McDucks' will come and take everything from us again. And perhaps then they'll be luckier, and you and I won't be able to escape anywhere."

Igor stared intently at a point on the wall and made no further attempt to speak. Not a single caustic remark escaped his lips. Andrey realized his words were getting through, and this inspired him even more.

"The people who rule here aren't like the 'wolves.' Yes, they're tough, perhaps even as cruel as the bandits, but kindhearted people like you and me can't survive in this world. If we hadn't been lucky enough to end up with Akim, we would have died long ago. But despite everything, these people don't use their power for evil. Yes, they kill, but they kill to protect others, just like they killed three people saving me. They don't have a drop of the madness that bandits have. They don't take people to god knows where at gunpoint, they don't kidnap, rob, or r**e. They want a decent life. For everyone. And I believe they can give it to us, and that's why I want to help them. And I really want you to join us... me, in this fight for a better life."

Igor turned his gaze to his brother. His lips trembled, a word threatening to escape, but he didn't make a sound.

"But I haven't told you the most important thing yet," Andrei lowered his voice slightly. "There's a scientist here, and the rest of us aren't just village idiots either. They can give us a lot, teach us a lot. With their help, we might be able to get to Volgograd, and then, if we're lucky, we might be able to find Father."

Igor's eyes widened at the mention of his father. Finding him had been their sole goal for years. This goal gave them strength, preventing them from losing heart or losing faith in life. With this argument, Andrei was confident that now his brother would surely agree with his reasoning.

Igor stared at him intently. It was clear that a powerful internal struggle was taking place within him.

"You're blinded by their self-confidence, brother. And deep down, you know how this will all end," he finally managed to say. "So NO. No, Andrey. I won't risk my life for a hopeless cause. And I strongly advise you to refuse as well."

Andrey felt as if he'd been struck by an electric shock. A wave of tension coursed through his body and settled in his chest, threatening to burst forth in a powerful surge of rage. Suddenly, he felt the rage give way to disgust. He'd always known Igor was, shall we say, overly cautious. But now, with his own sense of touch, he sensed the sticky, vile essence of a coward, was able to touch it, and recoiled in horror. Now Andrey knew how Rodionov had felt toward him at the meeting, and now he felt even more ashamed than he had then.