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"Because Nikita's out there and I can't even reach him!" - she exclaimed, grabbing her head. There it was. The true reason for her being so worked up. She didn’t care about her own safety – she just wanted to know if her closest person was still safe. As someone who also had a relative somewhere out there – the only close relative I had left – I felt a sting of shame: why wasn’t I so worked up about her safety? Why wasn’t I ready to go out there, risking my life, to make sure that my own mother was safe?
"Listen, I'm sure Nikita is fine" - I told her. In a way, it felt like I was talking both of us down. "That siren was a signal to evacuate the town, the whole town," – I stressed the word. "He probably got out of town along with the rest of the people" - I paused for a moment and thought about the implications of those words. "And he probably thought you'd done the same" - I added.
She stopped for a moment, and I saw a glimpse of relief in her eyes.
"Yeah…Yeah, you're probably right" - she said. She walked up to her kitchen window which, unlike mine, was facing the town. "I don't see anyone in any windows."
I got up and stood next to her. It was the first time I'd seen the town since the sirens, and also the first time I'd ever seen it so empty.
There was no movement on the streets. Even during our night parties, when me and Nikita, craving some smoking, would lock the kitchen door, open the window to let the fresh air in, and silently observe the town during its most serene hour, it wasn't as motionless. There was always some person getting home at an odd hour, or a rare stray cat running across the street, hoping not to be seen. Or even a branch shaking in the wind.
Nothing. None of that could be observed outside, and not even a single leaf was shaking - it seemed that even the wind which I'd been dreading so much in the morning seemed to escape along with the rest of the townsfolk. It was like looking at an apocalyptic glass painting. Like the town stopped breathing - and you weren't sure that it was just holding its breath.
There were traces of panic and commotion on the streets: open suitcases, abandoned in panic, with long tongues of clothes sticking out of them. An occasional scarf or a handkerchief, waiting for the wind - or at least someone - to pick them up.
It felt odd thinking that people abandoned those things less than an hour ago. It felt like we were the ones who missed the train - or maybe we were the discarded things as well.
"We need to get out of here, too" - Natasha said. I didn't look at her, but I could hear the determination in her voice. The same kind of determination people show before taking their first jump with a parachute.
"I don't think that's wise" - I argued. "I've called the police and let them know that we're stuck here - as did probably every other tenant in this building. They said that the rescue's coming."
"I don’t know if we can believe them" - she sighed. "Remember Kursk? Remember Chernobyl? The first thing they do is try to hide it, to save their face. I bet they’re ready to leave us to die here and make it look like an accident."
"We don't know if it's that serious. Maybe it's just a wild animal attack. And by the way, at least one such animal is still outside, and it's very violent" - I argued. "It murdered a man in less than 30 seconds!"
"So, we stay together and take our chances!" - she exclaimed. "There are many of us and only one wild animal there, if we group up it won't even think to attack us, we won't even have to fight it!"
"Well, the doors are still closed, so..."
"All of them?" - she interrupted me. I hesitated to answer: I didn't know for sure.
"I don’t know" – I answered. "I didn’t hear anything from the other staircases, but I guess it makes sense."
Natasha was quiet for a few moments before answering: "We better make sure. If the other doors are still open, it’s a big deal. Give me two minutes to get dressed – I want to go and take a look."
***
Climbing onto the roof turned out to be scarier than I imagined: the iron ladder, while seemingly sturdy, was welded to the unstable railings of the stairwell, and thus was shaking every time I put my foot down on it.
"Well?" - I heard Natasha ask me. "Are you going up or not?"
I realized that I froze halfway up and spent a good thirty seconds looking down at the distance I'd have to fall.
"I am" - I said. "It's just a bit scary."
"Yeah, it always is the first time. When me and Nikita climbed it last summer to look at the stars I thought I'd rather die than take another step. But it's rather sturdy, so don't worry - it even held both of us" - she said.
Her reassuring words, coming from below, echoed across the walls down the stairwell, once again reminding me how high above the stairs I was.
"Well, that's good to know" - I said, taking another step. I was still just as scared as before, but after her reassurance, I didn't want to look like a wimp.
I climbed up to the hatch in the ceiling which led to the roof and gave it a push, but it didn't budge. I pushed again harder and had to instantly grab the ladder when it started shaking under my legs.
"Push harder" - I heard Natasha's advice and sighed. I was starting to suspect that she secretly wanted me dead.
"If I push even harder it's either going to open or the ladder will disconnect from the ceiling and I'll fall down three flights worth of height" - I considered my options and then pushed the hatch open. The ladder shook violently but didn't fall. Sighing in relief, I quickly scaled the rest of the path and climbed all the way up.
Natasha followed just a few moments after - it seemed that she really wasn't scared of scaling the ladder.
The hatch led to a tiny room on the roof - a concrete shed, maybe five by five feet, and barely tall enough to stand up in it. One of the walls had a small door with a high threshold - the door to the roof itself. So small you wouldn't walk through it - more like crawl through, keeping your head low. I opened it and for the first time since I woke up, I finally stepped outside.
The view that opened from the roof wasn't much different than the one from Natasha's kitchen - just broader. The clouds above were grey and heavy - another roof over our heads. Another ceiling, only much higher.
We headed towards the far side of the building, where the lonely concrete cube - the same one as the one we've climbed out of - was overlooking the town's border from the roof's edge. As we walked, I couldn't stop thinking about how surreal it felt to hear nothing but our footsteps. We had a forest on the right and a town on the left - yet not a single sound was coming from them. Without the familiar hum in the background, I felt naked to the world, like I was on its central stage and every set of eyes on the planet were aimed at me, waiting for my next move. I felt exposed to the very skies above. I felt like at any moment the sounds of footsteps would vanish as well and we’d float upward, to the vacuum of space.
It was putting me into a strange feeling of unease and anxiety. Like the rest of the world had stopped existing.
"Yuri?" - Natasha called for me.
"Yes?" - I turned around to face her. Did she notice something in the distance?
"Nothing" - she shook her head. "I just wanted to say something. This silence was giving me the creeps."
"Yeah, I get it" - I nodded. "I feel the same way."
Even though our conversation had no point it felt right to speak up. The sounds of our voices made the world feel a bit less lonely, and the trip through the "outside world" with its unknown evacuation-warranting dangers - a little less scary.
We were approaching the door when a single sound from the outside world broke the silence. It started low, and for a moment I thought that the sirens started again - but it was something else. A low, rumbling howl that lasted a good ten seconds and made us stop in our tracks for its entire duration. We felt like we had to bear witness to it. To soak in every moment of it. To feel its presence out there so that there wasn’t any doubt left that it was dangerous out there. Like it was only proper etiquette to hear the new owner of our town announce itself.
"Is that…?" - she didn't finish the question, but I knew what she wanted to say.
"Yes" - I confirmed her suspicions. "That is it."
She was silent for a few moments, and then said: "I've never heard anything like that. What is it?"
"I don't know" - I said. "I didn't see it - only heard it."
Once more she took a moment to think it over, before saying: "I thought you made it up that it sounds like that."
I could relate to her disbelief – it was only reasonable to doubt my words, but still I decided to inquire: "Why did you think I made it up?"
"I don't know" - she shook her shoulders. "I thought maybe you were in shock from that postman's death. Something like this…It's hard to believe."
I felt sorry for her. I could see that she had been trying her hardest to rationalize what was going on. She went to sleep in her old apartment, located on the edge of her old town, and woke up in a new world where unseen and unheard-of threats roamed the abandoned streets.
We opened the door and climbed inside the shed. I made sure to check the door behind closed tight - it felt right under the given circumstances.
Natasha pulled the hatch, and the sounds of people talking flushed out of it - it felt like opening a can of noise. The world returned to how it was supposed to be.
"Never thought I'd be so glad to hear those old-timers" - I joked.
"Don't be mean" - Natasha said before quickly climbing down the ladder. I winced when I heard the metal shake and ring under her feet.
"Natasha!" - I called for her. "I think since we can hear them down there then it means they haven’t left and their door is welded shut as well?"
"Yeah, you're right" - she said after a small pause. "But I want to see for myself. Are you coming down?"
"Yes, give me a moment" - I told her, carefully lowering my foot through the hatch. The ladder trembled when I put my weight on it, and so did my calves, though for a different reason.
"You sure take your time with these" - she noted when I climbed all the way down.
"Easy for you to say" - I grunted. "I'm 20 kilograms heavier than you."
We headed downstairs toward the first floor, past the small groups of people. The faces were different, but they behaved the same: most of them were out of their apartments, talking to each other about our situation.
We didn't stop to listen - instead, we were carefully and silently walking down the stairs, trying to avoid drawing anyone's attention. I didn't want to repeat the earlier confrontation. It seemed that Natasha was also not in the mood to talk with anyone.
I did, however, catch bits of conversations here and there. On each floor, the people were discussing something new. Sometimes it was hard to piece together without context what those people were talking about, but what I heard was interesting.
"They say someone died in the 3rd Entrance. They say it was the postman. He couldn't get inside and something got to him. Gnarly stuff."
"Yes, I heard that beast's howl. It had a mighty pack of lungs, I'll tell you that."
"The police won't help. I asked to talk to my nephew - he works there, you may remember him from last Easter - but they told me he was too busy and just hung up. This is what I get for hosting him so many times..."
"Wasn't your nephew out of town on a vacation? I thought he went somewhere abroad with his wife."
"This is how they're trying to get to us. They've been waiting for 30 years, and when they finally saw that our country was rising from its knees they decided to attack. They are threatened by our presence on the world map."
"Vasya says that they've finally answered. They should start any day now, so stay tuned - you can't miss a single one. You still have it, don't you? Good, keep it on at all times..."
"Do you have enough drugs at home? I was going to go to the pharmacy this morning when this happened. I'll borrow some from you, can I? My heart isn't what it used to be..."
"Hey there" – a man in his late thirties called us over. Unlike the other tenants, he wasn’t wearing his home clothes: on the contrary, he was dressed as if he was planning on spending the next few days outdoors, with layers upon layers of clothes on him. A large duffel bag was hanging from his shoulder, and my eyes were instantly glued to a walkie-talkie that was hanging from his belt – I could instantly tell that thing had a lot of coverage. "Where are you from? I haven’t seen you here before."
I felt defensive: I did not feel like being questioned again and tried to walk past him without acknowledging him. But before I made another step Natasha answered the man’s question: "We’re from the next stairwell. We wanted to see if everything has been welded shut here as well."
"So it’s true. It’s not just us who’ve had our doors welded shut" – the man eased up. "You’re stuck in here as well. Sorry for snapping at you – I’m all tense since the morning and I thought… Never mind" – he shook his head. He stretched out his hand to greet me and I reluctantly shook it. Natasha got only a nod from him. "I guess you’re looking for a way out, too?"
"Yes, we are" – Natasha quickly answered. "Is there any way out of this building?"
"Well, you kids came just to the right place" – the man smiled. "Me and a couple of my pals here are thinking about making a break for the military base in the forest – or some other evacuation point if we find it on our way there."
"You can break the door?" – I wondered.
"Well, no, but we’ve thought of a different way out" – the man answered, getting flustered. "We’ll make a rope out of bedsheets and climb down from the second-floor window. It’s unreliable and sounds silly, but it’s the only way out we’ve come up with at the moment, and we can’t be losing time thinking about anything else. We leave in about ten minutes and there’s going to be about a dozen of us, so if you want out you better hurry up and pack your things" – he told us.
Instantly, I knew that Natasha wanted to agree to it. She did not like being stuck in the building, and she did not believe that the authorities were going to rescue us any time soon. On top of that, she was worried about Nikita. He was out there somewhere, possibly all on his own. Perhaps he was going through crowds of other evacuees trying to find her, or maybe he was even risking his life trying to get to her through the abandoned town.
Perhaps he was hiding somewhere in the streets, wounded and in need of help, with no way to get out on his own. Perhaps he needed her as he had never needed her before.
I knew it wasn’t my place to make that decision for her. I was so unsure of what was going on that I wasn’t sure if I could decide for myself. Yet at the same time, I remembered the howl of the beast, the screams of the postman. The panic in the military officer’s voice during the morning transmission which ended the Cricket’s broadcast.
"We’re good, thanks" – I said, grabbing Natasha's hand and squeezing it. She gave me a confused look. The man noticed my gesture and furrowed his eyebrows, drilling our locked hands with his gaze: "You don’t believe in those rumors about some creature outside, do you?"
"I do" – I told him, looking him in the eye. I could tell that the man was displeased about me defying him, and I started to feel nervous, but I didn’t want to show it. "I’ve heard him die with my own ears. I was just on the other side of that door when it’d gotten to him."
"Well I didn’t hear anything, and neither did any of us here" – the man puffed out his chest and crossed his hands. "Listen, I don’t know what you’ve heard but there’s nothing out there. Maybe it was a stray bear from the forest, but that’s about it. I’ve seen plenty of those in my life and I know how to scare them away."
"It was not a bear" – I told him with confidence. "It didn’t sound like a bear. Tell him, Natasha" – I asked her to confirm my words.
I could see that she felt conflicted. She knew that what she’d heard was real, that the unknown feral animal was stalking our town�
� But at the same time, there was a very real chance to get out of town right in front of her.
I remembered how easily she scaled that ladder just minutes before while I was scared to set foot onto it. She had it in her to overcome her fears. She could take such a risk.
"Do you have any weapons?" – I asked the man. "Do you have anything to scare it away?"
"I have a hunting rifle, but I doubt I’ll need it" – he said with confidence. "No animal will attack a large group of people."
"No animal is dangerous enough to warrant an evacuation of the entire town" – I told him bluntly. "This morning, the radio transmission of the nearby numbering station stopped transmitting for the first time since it had been established. It can’t be a coincidence. Something dangerous is going on outside."
Each sentence was a challenge for me: I was finding it hard to argue with someone so blunt and confident. While I was sure that I was right I was not much of a speaker. I knew very well that the arguments were usually won not by being reasonable, but by representing your argument better. And from what I could see, he was not sold on what I was telling him.
I could see by his face that he wasn’t convinced, but I didn’t care about him anymore. I saw that I couldn’t change his mind. What mattered was changing Natasha’s opinion. As a friend, I had that responsibility on me.
"Listen, if you want to cower here in fear along with the rest of the elders – that’s on you" – he poked my chest with his finger, pushing me back a little. "We don’t need to continue this conversation, so keep your mouth shut around my people."
"These are not your people" – I reminded him, rubbing my chest where he poked me. "And this is not about being right or wrong – it’s about the safety of the people."
"Whatever" – he frowned and dismissively waved his hand at me. "Have it your way. I’m done with you. Are you with us, girl?" – he asked Natasha.
She looked at me then at the man, keeping quiet. I could see that she was considering her options.