Vasilisa the Brave - Chapter Five - Exposed

Vasilisa had never felt so exposed before as she did in that moment when the woman--it had been a woman, yes?--had simply pointed out where she was hiding as though it were the most obvious thing in the world?

How had they known?

She had been quiet... though perhaps not quiet enough. For a long moment she had frozen on the spot, then she thought of running but the people had moved on. Vasilisa poked her head out from behind cover some time later to see them leave. They were heading into an old construction site with many unfinished buildings.

She followed. It was unwise, and she knew as much, but she kept a lot of distance, and with her slow, careful movements, they soon lost her out ahead.

The trio, whomever they were, were moving in the same direction as she wished to. Vasilisa stilled her heart and found herself calming down on the outskirts of that construction area. It seemed open, and dangerous, something which was confirmed when a gun fired and minutes later, something exploded, though she only caught sight of the dust settling.

She chose to avoid the area, which meant braving the road.

This was one of the highways cutting into the Zone. Her father had spoken of it to her once.

The road was easy to navigate, quick to move across, and dangerous. Very dangerous. Because while it was open and passable, it was also lined by opportunistic Stalkers, waiting for easy prey.

The army patrolled the roads, because they were easy to navigate. The Zone was rumoured to change sometimes, though she wasn't sure if that was true. The highways, however, were fixed. Or so she hoped as she moved out of the construction area, ducking under a guardrail and onto the street.

The road was flanked by a stripe of grass, then sidewalks. Nearby, these ran alongside the temporary walls around the construction site, while across the street were a variety of shops and apartment buildings.

Vasilisa paused as she took in the other side. There were windows everywhere. Little dark holes where anything could be hidden.

She swallowed, but just standing there would certainly lead to trouble, so she moved.

Tucking herself in, she jogged along the wall. She wanted to run all out, but she knew that if she did that, she'd be running out of breath quickly, and then she'd not only be out in the open, she'd be out and too exhausted to run.

The construction yard stretched on for half a kilometre. It had looked like a short distance to her, initially, until she had to run across it. At the end, the road turned sharply to the right, and there was a hill with train tracks on them.

She refused to panic when she saw movement from the corner of her eye. Up ahead, in the yard of an abandoned car dealership. A few figures were milling around next to a station wagon with some things loaded onto the top of it.

Vasilisa stopped, boots scraping on the sidewalk to find purchase before she dove behind a large bush. Her heart was beating too fast, her lungs burned. Had they noticed her?

She peeked through the bush where it was thinner and watched. Two men... no, three. They were doing something, carrying boxes from the dealership to the car. She tugged her rifle off of her back. It would poke out from the bushes in any case, and she wanted to see better. She brought it around and shouldered it, then leaned down to peer through the rifle's scope.

It was the same scope that her grandfather had used during the great war, and it was almost too strong. The three and a half-times magnification made it hard to get a lock on the men, and when she did, any amount of movement would swing it away. Worse, with the bush so close, she had to push branches aside to see.

And she was still in the open.

These three might not see her, but anyone from the side, or above, could. The only saving grace was the wall at her back.

Her father had mentioned this to her a few times when they went to the range. Sometimes all someone saw was what they had in their sights, not the rest of the world. They'd become blind to trouble.

She suspected that it was meant to be a metaphor, but it was still just plain true.

The men seemed young, the age she'd expect to see of boys in the army, but they didn't wear the uniform. The only uniform thing about them were the masks they wore. Long-snouted rubber gas masks, with tubes that lead down from their face and to a cartridge filter that hung by their chest.

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They had coats on, to ward away the chill, and otherwise wore what a worker might. If they'd been on the streets of Pripyat, without the masks, she would have dismissed them. Or perhaps not. All three were armed. Handguns in belts, submachine guns on slings by the small of their back. One of them had a larger automatic rifle, curved magazines tucked into the pockets of his worker's jacket.

She licked her lips. They didn't know she was there. At this range, with their attention elsewhere, it would be so easy... the shot would be no harder than some of the targets at the range.

But no. She wasn't that kind of person, and while these might have been some of the vile Stalkers her father warned her about, she didn't know that for certain.

They were too close, however. As long as she was here, behind this bush, and keeping both low and quiet, she'd be unnoticed unless they really searched for her, but to keep going meant to be seen.

Vasilisa hated it, but she eventually lowered herself from a crouch onto her knees, then shuffled closer to the bush until its branches were poking at her. She hoped her jacket would blend her into it, at least.

The men brought more boxes to the car, then argued about something. She couldn't make out what, however, the few snatches of words that made it to her were caught by the wind.

And then, a chance. One of them returned with a small thermos that steamed. As the wind shifted, she caught a scent in the air. Soup of some sort, broth. It made her stomach roil in protest. The men seemed just as hungry. They left, going into the dealership where they sat on the hood of a car and shared some small bowls.

Two of them had their back to her.

A chance!

She looked around, checking every window and along the road. Nothing. Shimmying backwards, she extracted herself from the bush, slung her rifle up over her back again, then stretched her legs as best she could.

There would be no time for leg cramps now.

She waited until the figures past the dirty windows of the dealership ducked their heads to eat, and when they did, she bolted like a spooked rabbit.

She was twenty steps away when she noticed one of the men standing from the corner of her eye. Her speed redoubled. She was forty strides past the bush when she heard a shout. Sixty when she heard the dealership's door bang open. Then she had the corner of the next building between her and the dealership's yard, but she knew that it wouldn't be enough.

"Hey!"

"Stop!"

The shouts were a second wind. Vasilisa grit her teeth and ran harder. The road forked ahead, but there would be no turning around that corner. She didn't know what was beyond it. Instead, she aimed for the hill with the train tracks above it.

She realized it was a mistake the moment she ran off the sidewalk and started to climb. The hill was more steep than she'd realized, and it was soft, wet grass. Her boot slipped, and she hit her knee against the soil. She almost fell completely, but she continued to move.

Then gunshots, loud, angry crack-hisses. A clod of mud exploded to her left, whistling above her.

Vasilisa scrambled up the hill and over it in a blink. Up there, she was framed by the sky, but only for a moment before she leapt down the opposite side of the hill with the train track clunking behind her. She stumbled and slid, then came to a stop.

There was a fence, wire mesh, then an apartment building with many windows. She spotted a way around, she found several spots where the fence had been pushed down... but what she didn't find was the energy to run.

Vasilisa laid on her back on the ground where she'd slid and gulped for air. She wasn't hurt, just out of breath.

Feet thumping on the road echoed behind her. She spun onto her stomach, quickly grabbing for her rifle and aiming it up the hill.

"Fuck!" one of the men yelled.

"Should we go over?" another asked.

"And get plugged? Only if you go first."

"I think I hit them," Another said.

Vasilisa shifted her feet, then her back. No pain. She didn't think she'd been struck.

"I don't see any blood, fool," the first to speak said. "I told you, don't ever full-auto. That's just to scare Stalkers away. It's not good for hitting anything."

"Fuck this, I'm going back for my soup."

Vasilisa let her head fall forwards as she heard the men moving on.

***