- Guys! Hello everybody! - Vasilyev said.
- Well... Hello... - the team replied.
- Tell. Where do you dare go without our orders? - asked Rublev.
"My Lord Commander. I recently heard an interesting story from the life of soldiers. They weren't from our battalion, of course, but I liked their reaction.
"If there are any changes in life, we'll go to Cheyenne mountain. We'll be there in a month, if we're lucky. This place is located in the United States, in the state of Colorado... - Rubtsov pointed to the spot indicated by the joystick, after a lull, he turned off the tablet.
- We are going strictly in the direction of... - private Fedorov added energy.
Somewhere far away in North America, in Alaska, there was a battle going on with natural phenomena, and it seemed that the painful obstacles could be removed after a sudden miracle. It was also difficult in Shelekhov. Although the liquids that slowly evaporated from the dead bodies did more damage than the air absorbed the droplets, the cyclone turned into a hurricane.
In the last few minutes, the soldiers were walking to the railway track leading from Taltsy station to the road to Ulan-Ude. Soon there was a station, houses, ticket offices, a gatehouse, tracks, and a train hastily covered with tarpaulins. It was as if the things were left there for important business. Pirogov, as the most curious, climbed the metal steps, opened the dusty door, and lit the wick of a lighter.
"Here is the driver's seat, and there is the first compartment..." - he said, walking away into the distance.
"Be careful... - answered Rublev.
An hour later, they were driving through a dark space that was partially illuminated by traffic lights. Raindrops pattered on the roof, and streams of water ran down the Windows, but only the passengers ' thoughts ran through their heads. They were sitting in a carriage that was empty of Luggage.
The orchestra's instruments were broken, some of them bent, and debris was scattered almost everywhere, but the sofas and bar were left untouched, as if the life that had once been there had been directed to a comfortable rest without music. Clearing away cobwebs, setting up tables and a sideboard, the soldiers went one by one into the dining car.
The soldiers drove, and Yakov Ivanovich controlled levers and wires, creating a driving thrust in the transport. Getting to the next station was far more difficult than shooting infected people.
"Vasiliev!" - He shouted. Look out the window carefully, is there anyone there? - asked Paul Rublev, holding the rifle ready to the sulfur charge.
"There is no one here, Pavel Pavlovich! - Scout replied.
"Are you sure there's no one here?" - Commander asked again.
"That's right, no enemy detected..." - Subordinate repeated.
As soon as he said more words to his companions, there were additional sounds from above: light footsteps, as if something was trying to open an escape hatch, but with difficulty getting to the lid.
"And you said that there was no one there..." the soldiers heard a resentful voice in the darkness.
Everyone prepared for the attack, the bolts and silencers on the machine guns clicked quickly, everyone already knew where to stand to carefully go to the surface. The suspicious object almost slashed the iron with its claws. Vasily Fyodorov opened the doors of the car, shot at the ceiling, Sergei Nikiforovich climbed the stairs, grabbed the creature, threw it inside the train. There, in the light of flashlights, it turned out that this was not a mutated person at all, but an ordinary, healthy one.
"Who are you?"
"Who are you?"
"My name is Vsevolod. I saw a train in the distance, and I thought I could use it to get to the rescue point.
"Probably true. We'll keep an eye on you.
And they raced along the tracks like ghosts in the night. The new assistant behaved like everyone else, calmly, unobtrusively. Streams of muddy water trickled down from his coat, forming large puddles that flowed smoothly toward the exit. However, the subject did not show his character in any way.
"If you do well, then we'll give you a pistol, I hope you can shoot..." said the Sergeant-major at the time when the railway line went to the southwest.
Part 2. Chapter 2.
Sergei Vasiliev suggested an interesting version: create toys from old fabrics, throw them all over the territory, and when the mutated animals begin to study the objects, an explosion will occur. By all accounts, the idea might only change the way the monsters thought for a while, but it was accepted for consideration.
The next day, the soldiers complied with the offer and received a positive result: the strange mutants were surprised to discover their mistakes and ran in the opposite direction to convince their relatives. Another goal was achieved.
However, until now, the trip plan seemed complicated - the Chukotka region was so far away that passengers were afraid not to get to the right stop.
Vsevolod Prokhorov was a doubtful passenger, but after successful actions he was accepted into the team: he began to make bullets, solutions, repaired devices, and did it so interestingly that they got used to him by the eighth day.
While the Communists raced at full speed to the Chukchi region, the mutants, on the contrary, were eager to return to their places to replenish their forces. So it turned out that their Manager carried out his manipulations on the minds of ordinary people, and the red army soldiers with difficulty came up with plans and new tricks to persuade their early allies and compatriots.
It was also strange that when the summoning toys were given out, people seemed to pretend that they were awake, but still they left surprised.
There was one last hope. The Chukchi could help the defenders win the battle by transporting them to Alaska. There, Professor Jekyll waited for instructions from the main Department, but there was no signal from the Institute. However, the seven adequate fighters tried to return the truth to the world, which happened slowly and almost unsuccessfully, but they hoped for victory, even if they did not consciously accelerate the process. Soon, a gray haze began to appear in the distance - there were residential huts. And if someone is burning a fire, it means for sure to keep warm. By all indications, it was a live station. Border guards tried to stop the train, but the tracks were slippery with rain and mud. Finally, the vehicle stopped. The Communists got out of the cars, and the head of the patrol carefully examined the faces and clothing of the newcomers.
- We are from the Ryazan region.
For some reason, the guards believed in the excuses, and the Communist soldiers joined the owners of the outskirts.
Even more surprising was that the road to Alaska was almost impassable, since the ice on the Bering Strait had recently become stronger again, and it was necessary to break a thick layer with the help of an icebreaker. I had to stay and wait until someone got ready to go to their family.
Soon the RAID was cleared, the way was clear. Vsevolod Prokhorov, Sergei Vasiliev, Alexey Logger, Yakov Pirogov and Nikolai Fyodorov put their belongings in the fishing boat, went on deck, and threw away the cables. The ship started moving. Cold waves were rolling in from all sides, and it was difficult to navigate. Fortunately, there was an automatic crowbar inside the hull. When he found solid ice, he scraped it down to the smallest parts.
Two days later, the soldiers reached the coast of Alaska, went on land, and examined the area. The snow was thicker here than in Russia.
Despite this, the soldiers went on, and soon saw the walls of a stone fence ending in a metal gate. You could see the courtyard through the grid squares. The red army men agreed on a further plan, Fyodorov knocked on the door, waited until someone came up, and noticing the approaching figures of people, repeated his actions.
