It was dark when Roland, Ecclesio, and Daniil crossed one of the Kemerovo highway bridges. The priest had to get rid of his last roubles to put the curiosity of the police to sleep, aroused by their dirty clothes and their haggard appearance. This obstacle overcome, they still had several kilometres to travel in the sleepy streets of the city, to the confines of a residential district in the far west of the capital. There, they left the comfort of the paved sidewalks to venture among the wild grasses that invaded the surroundings of the railway. They followed the tracks for several more minutes before they saw a man spring from the thickets, pointing his powerful flashlight at them.
“Who’s there?!” he shouted.
“Oh, peace!” replied Roland in the same tone. “You don’t recognize me, you stu
