Journey to another world in the subway

Chapter 201
Artyom saw a chalk drawing on a park path, the sun sprinkled golden needles through the leaves, and a cup of ice cream in his hand.

Yellow ducklings float on the brown water of the pond, and a dangling bridge crosses the autumn pond.

He was afraid of falling into the water, and even more afraid of accidentally dropping the ice cream cup into it.

However, Artyom couldn't remember his mother's face anyway.

He tried hard to recall, and begged himself to see it in his dream every night before going to bed, even if he forgot it again tomorrow morning, but it was all to no avail.

Could it be true that he could not find even a small corner of his head where his mother could hide until death and darkness were over?

It appears that it is.

However, why would a living person disappear so completely?
That day, that world, where can they go?

Just now, when the eyes were closed, didn't they appear again?
Surely they could be retrieved, and somewhere on earth they must still be alive.

A call must be made to all those who are hidden: Here are we, where are you?
You can definitely hear them, you just have to learn how to listen.

Artyom blinked and rubbed his eyelids so that his eyes could see today again instead of being immersed in the world of 20 years ago.

He sat down and opened his backpack.

In the backpack was a clunky military radio with a green body and many scratches.

There is also a big guy in the bag-a tin box with a hand crank, which is a homemade generator.

At the bottom is a 40-meter flexible wire that acts as an antenna for the radio station.

Artyom connected all the wires, and walked around the roof of the building pulling the wires.

He wiped the sweat off his face, reluctantly put on the gas mask, put the earphones on his head, smoothed the keys with his fingers, and cranked the handle of the generator.

The diode blinked a few times, and something alive seemed to be trembling and buzzing in the palm of his hand.

Artyom flipped a switch with a snap.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on fishing for drift bottles from the distant survivor continent amidst the noisy sound of radio waves.

He was ups and downs among the waves, turning the generator with his hand, as if he was paddling his inflatable raft with his hand.

The earphones began to hiss, and occasionally made a high-pitched "buzz" sound among the rustling.

Now and then a tuberculosis-like cough would break out, then he would go dumb again, and after a while it would start hissing again.

Artyom seemed to be wandering back and forth in the tuberculosis isolation room, looking for someone to talk to, but no patient was conscious. Only the nurse put her finger to her lips and signaled seriously: "Shh——"

No one wanted to respond to Artyom, and no one expected to live.

Nothing from St. Petersburg, nothing from Yekaterinburg.

London is silent, Paris is silent, Bangkok and New York are silent.

It no longer matters who started this war, and it no longer matters why this war started.

Why bother to pursue these?

For history?
History is written by the victors, but now not only is there no one writing history, but even those who read history are almost extinct.

sizzle sizzle...

Radio space is empty and boundless.

babbling...

The sudden communication satellites are wandering in the orbit, they have no one to call, they are so lonely that they are crazy, they are falling to the earth one after another, willing to be reduced to ashes in the atmosphere.

BJ didn't say a word, and Tokyo was like a grave.

But Artyom was still shaking the damn handle, shaking, paddling, paddling, rocking.

What a stillness!

An incredible silence, an unbearable silence.

"This is Moscow! This is Moscow! Please answer!"

It was him, Artyom's voice.

This is him, as impatient as ever, unable to control himself.

"This is Moscow! This is Moscow! Please answer!"

babbling...

Can't stop, can't give up.

"St. Petersburg! Answer! Vladivostok! This is Moscow! Rostov! Answer!"

What's the matter with you, St. Petersburg?

Are you really so fragile, so far from Moscow? !
What are you there now?
Glass lake?
Or is it completely eaten by mold?

Why don't you answer?

what?
Where have you been, Vladivostok, the proud city on the other side of the world?

You are so far away from us, are you also infected with the plague?
Are you not immune?

cough cough cough...

"Answer, Vladivostok! This is Moscow!"

The whole world is lying on the ground, with its face buried in the mud, unable to hear the heavy rain hitting its back, and unaware that its mouth and nose are filled with rust water.

And Moscow is still standing there, feet upright, alive.

"What's wrong with you, are you all dead?"

sizzle sizzle...

Is this the soul of the dead who got into the radio waves responding to him?
Or is it the sound from the surface radiation?
If death has a sound, it might be exactly this: cough cough cough cough, sizzle sizzle...

"This is Moscow! Please answer!"

Perhaps, someone heard it right away?
Maybe, someone will answer in the earphones right away, and an excited voice breaks through the hissing sound and comes from a distant place: "Roger! Moscow! We are here! Got it, Moscow! Don't hang up! I've found you." Already! God! Moscow! There is news from Moscow! How many of you have survived? We have 5000 people here! The land is clean! The surface radiation is zero! The water is not contaminated! Food? Of course there is! There is medicine too! We have it! Send a rescue team to support you! You must hold on! Do you hear me, Moscow? Just hold on!”

Yi Yi Yi Wu.It was empty.

It was more like a rite of passage than a radio communication, and Artyom apparently found nothing.

No matter how he summoned the undead, they refused to approach him.

They are fine in another world.

Through the occasional gap between the clouds, they looked down on Artyom's small figure from a height, and only smiled at him: "Going to find you? Don't be stupid!"

Cough cough cough.

He threw away the damn handle, pulled off the earphones, stood up, and patiently smashed the wires into a ball.

He deliberately did it very slowly, so as to suppress his impulse, so as not to snap the wire and throw it from the roof.

He put everything back in his backpack, put the backpack—the seducer—on his back, and carried it downstairs, back to the subway.

See you tomorrow.
-
"Long time no see, Comrade Alcorn. Are you ready to join the resistance fighters this time? We are looking forward to your joining."

Alcorn found that the resistance fighter leader he met before was still so talkative.

It seems that he has come out of the shadow of the bearded uncle's death.

This is on the way to the Polis metropolis on the road, and I met an old friend from before.

It feels so good.

"Lusakov, stop joking. You know that I'm not worthy of joining your organization." Alcorn accompanied the words, then looked at the handsome man in front of him, and pointed at Sasha. arrive.

"Come on, let me introduce you. This is my wife." Then he pointed to Lusakov and introduced to Sasha: "This is the great warrior I met before. He once saved me from the red line. My savior."

"Comrade Alcorn, I haven't seen you for a long time. You have learned how to joke. If it weren't for you, I don't know how long I have been dead. Maybe I have been buried in the sewer by now." Lusakov smiled and said .

Then, looking at Sasha's blushing face, he joked, "This is your wife! Then, Comrade Alcorn, you are going to enjoy yourself! But I remind you, don't be intoxicated by beauty and forget our important mission ah."

Then Alcorn and Sasha followed Lusakov to his base.

Here Alcorn met his old friend, and they sat down and had a meal together.

"Comrade Alcorn, have you heard what the Spartan Rangers did before? That was really terrifying!" the beast Mumba said dancing.

After Alcorn heard it, he just nodded and didn't accept the words of the beast Mumba.

And the beast Mumba at the corner of the dining table still said loudly: "I really didn't expect that the Spartan rangers who have always been hailed as neutral would do such a thing. It is really unacceptable."

Then he patted the table, making everyone jump.

Alcorn frowned, trying to stop the topic, and then heard the beast Mumba speak loudly.

"Tell me, what do they think? That's an entire subway station! They burned them all with flamethrowers indiscriminately. Whether they are corpses or living people, they are all eliminated."

"I've heard it..." Just when the beast Mumba wanted to continue, Lusakov interrupted him.

He opened his mouth and said: "Beast Momba, don't talk about this topic anymore. We haven't seen Comrade Alcorn for a long time, we should find a way to entertain him and his beautiful wife well. Instead of listening to you blah blah, blah blah. topic of."

As he talked, he taught Mumba the beast, "As for the actions of the Spartan Rangers, we cannot judge them. Besides, in my opinion, they did the right thing. Before finding a solution to the plague When the best way is to use a flamethrower is the best way."

"You know, if they didn't use flamethrowers, and there were corpses lying around randomly. The plague has already reached us, and you will be busy doing this instead of sitting here , saying some nasty big words."

After Lusakov finished speaking, Beast Mumba stopped talking.

Then, feeling a little awkward in the atmosphere, he stood up and said, "It suddenly occurred to me that I haven't finished my work, so I'm going to get busy first." After speaking, he left the hotel regardless of Alcorn's persuasion.

Rusakov glanced at Alcorn and said, "Comrade Alcorn, don't blame him. You also know that Beast Mumba is a man who speaks freely and says whatever comes to his mind. He is totally out of his mind."

Lusakov had communicated with Alcorn before and knew that his goal was to join the Spartan Rangers. The words of the beast Mumba just now caused Alcorn's dissatisfaction.

This also made Lusakov realize that Alcorn himself would no longer join the Rebel Warriors.

But he has always recognized Alcorn's actions and beliefs. Even though the two of them are no longer the same, if he hadn't rescued him from the hands of the red line two bastards, he would have died by now.

So benevolence and righteousness are not in friendship, and I should entertain him well.

What's more, both of them have the same goal - fighting for a new life for mankind.

Alcorn waved his hand, expressing that he didn't mind what Mumba the beast said just now.

Instead, he said to Lusakov: "I want to pick up your radio. I have a tape here. I want to hear what's in it."

Alcorn thought of the tape he had been given at the D-6 base.

Although I knew it was about Caspian Sea, I still wanted to know what it was.

Lusakov was a little taken aback when he heard Alcorn's request.But he didn't think much about it, he smiled and said, "Yes, don't say lend it to you, you can give it to you."

"Give it to us? That's not necessary. I just want to listen to the tape."

"It's all right. If you want to take it, you can. It's useless to put it here anyway."
-
She didn't move.

"Is she asleep?" Artyom thought.But this kind of "thinking" is completely mechanical, and he doesn't care whether she is really sleeping or pretending to be asleep.

He stood at the entrance of the tent and took off his clothes, piled them up in a pile, rubbed his shoulders rustlingly, and lay down beside Anna like a motherless child, pulling the quilt towards him.

If there is a second quilt, he is determined not to do so.

The clock on the platform showed seven o'clock in the evening, it seemed.And Anna has to get up at ten o'clock in the evening to go to work in the mushroom garden.

As a hero, Artyom was relieved of this labor, and other affairs were left to his own free will.

Every morning, before Anna returned from work, he would get up and go to the ground.

After returning from the surface, he fell asleep before Anna "woke up".

This is their married life: same bed, different dreams.

Artyom covered his body with the red quilt as lightly as possible, for fear of waking Anna up.But she still felt it, she didn't say a word, and pulled the quilt away in anger.

After a minute of this stupid struggle, Artyom gave in and lay naked on the edge of the bed.

"That's right," he said.

She said nothing.

Feelings are like a light bulb. It was brightly lit at first, but why did the filament suddenly burn out?

He buried his face in the pillows—there were two, thank God—warmed them with the heat of his breath, and fell asleep.

In the dream, he saw another Anna - smiling lively, teasing him happily, especially young.

How long ago was this?
two days ago?
Or two years ago?
The hell knows.

At that time, they felt that there was a whole eternity waiting for them in front of them. As a result, this eternity was forever left in the past.

It was also cold in the dream, also because of Anna—he was being chased by her, running around the platform naked—but it was out of love, not resentment.

Every time Artyom had just woken up, he still vaguely believed that eternity was not over, that they had just reached the middle of eternity.

He couldn't help but want to wake her up, reconcile with her, and get back together.

But after 1 minute, he will fully wake up.

"Can you listen carefully to what I have to say?" Artyom asked Anna.

But she was no longer in the tent.

Artyom's undressed clothes were still lying in the passage.

Anna neither picked them up nor threw them out.

She just stepped over them, as if afraid of catching the surface radiation if she touched them.

She does seem to need the quilt more, and as for him, the surface radiation will keep him warm.

It's okay to leave.

Thank you, Anna.

Thank you for not talking to me, thank you for not talking to me.

"Thanks, damn it!" he yelled.

(End of this chapter)