The Task Is To Survive

Broken Bridge, Empty Account: A Desperate Dash for Water

My phone beeped alarmingly, informing me that the battery was less than twenty percent charged. I turned on power-saving mode and tried connecting to foreign news sites. But the pages wouldn't load. Then I received a text message saying my account was empty. I cursed under my breath, yet again. I'd wasted money on unlimited internet... I couldn't use the temporary top-up service when my balance was empty, so I had to put the phone away; now it could only function as a watch.

***

It was a hot summer afternoon. I was becoming increasingly thirsty, thanks to the dry mouth from the previous night's drinking, the sunny weather, and the foul, bitter taste in my mouth from the acrid smoke. My tongue was completely numb, and it felt dry and rough to the touch. The minibus I'd been sheltering under was definitely no longer on fire; in fact, it was gradually cooling. I glanced back at the spot where I'd been lying. A large puddle of frozen brown plastic had formed on the asphalt. It was terrifying to even imagine what would have happened if I'd stayed where I was.

The flying ship hadn't been heard for a long time, so I risked a peek from my hiding place. I crawled to the wheel, peeked out of the corner of my eye, and… froze in horror. The flying hunter hadn't gone anywhere. It had merely risen higher and now hovered motionless near a high-rise hotel on the banks of the Klyazma River. Against the backdrop of a thirty-story building, I finally managed to get a good look at the alien ship in all its detail and appreciate its size. A tapering triangular silhouette, five stories high, without any portholes or windows. A metal hull with numerous rectangular and square moldings, several clearly visible turrets.

Chilled with terror, I slowly pulled my phone out of my pocket and carefully took several photos of the terrifying ship at varying zoom levels. I managed to get three shots, after which the phone gave a disgruntled low-battery beep and shut off. But even that single beep made me shudder and roll back under the hull. I needed to turn it on again! Clutching the phone tightly with both hands and leaning my whole body against it to muffle the startup melody, I felt like a scout on an enemy installation. Yes, it was mortally dangerous, but what if these very materials of mine helped earthlings in the war against the aliens?

***

Time stood still. The minutes of this endless day dragged on like hours. The thirst grew stronger, and I couldn't bear it any longer. My mind refused to think of anything but the proximity of the river and its saving moisture. It seemed I could even hear the murmur of the water flowing under the bridge. The water was close, yet inaccessible. It was maddening.

The flying hunter behaved unpredictably. It could hover in one spot for over an hour, then suddenly take off and, rapidly gaining speed, fly along the avenue from the railroad bridge to the very edge of town, toward the turnoff to neighboring Fryazino. The craft almost never turned onto secondary streets, trying to control the city's main avenue.

Only in the evening, after 19:00, did the flying death suddenly change its behavior. The alien ship began visiting other areas of Shchyolkovo for long periods, only five to ten minutes at a time, from where the sounds of distant gunshots and explosions could be heard. I tried to understand the hunter's new logic, but I couldn't. The flying ship would sometimes wander away from the avenue for as long as ten minutes, sometimes just a couple of minutes. And invariably, it would return to the main street, hovering motionless near a high-rise hotel. Something about this hotel attracted the flying hunter. Perhaps it was because it was the tallest building in the entire area? Or because people were taking refuge inside? Several times, I noticed the hunter firing at the windows of the high-rise hotel.

By dusk, the triangular hunter had flown back across the railroad tracks and disappeared completely from view. I waited for its return for over forty minutes, but the alien ship didn't show up. Then I decided to risk running to the river. It was 11:11 a.m. when I crawled out from under the burned-out minibus, straightened up, and glanced around at the former minibus. It was completely burned out, the front end practically missing. The remains of burned people were discernible in the dark, shapeless piles inside. The woman who had grabbed me had also been unable to escape the burning vehicle and perished along with the others. I quickly turned away to calm myself and drive away the nausea that was setting in.

Glancing around and scanning the sky every second, I carefully moved toward the river. I had to climb over a pile of cars, where a jeep and a car, charred beyond recognition, had fallen on top of an ambulance that had been toppled over. The ambulance and the jeep weren't burned, but inside I saw only corpses and pools of caked blood.

The road bridge over the Klyazma River was completely destroyed, as were the pedestrian bridges to the right and left. The apotheosis of the destruction was a large intercity bus, which had fallen off the bridge and was now stuck upright in the shallow river. The front of the long bus was in the water, while the rear was caught in the reinforcement bars of the collapsed bridge. A little further on the riverbank lay a torn-to-pieces traffic police car and a couple more mangled cars. Inside all the cars, I saw only corpses.

I was very thirsty, but I was afraid to go down to the river. From up here on the bridge, I could at least monitor the sky and hide in case of danger. If I went down to the water, the silent hunter could attack completely unexpectedly. But there was nothing to be done; thirst forced me to take the risk. Carefully descending the sloping reinforced concrete slab to the riverbank, I found myself at the water's edge. I listened for gunshots and explosions, but all was quiet. I thought I heard sounds coming from the wrecked bus. However, when I turned in that direction and froze in anticipation, I heard nothing.