"We're moving out. Estimated time five minutes," Vitaly said.
The group moved forward cautiously, making their way through the ruined streets. I lingered for a moment, taking in the aftermath. In a car that had crashed into a lamppost sat a man or what was left of him. Charred bones clung tightly to the steering wheel. The car looked as if it had hit at full speed. The only reason I wasn't among the dead like him was my job in the metro. Was that luck or the curse of a survivor?
"Why are you standing there? Keep up!" Semyon shouted, waving me forward.
"The emergency supply cache should be somewhere on this street," Vitaly continued as I caught up with the group. "It's a strategic stockpile. Before the war, many of these were set up."
"Why did you decide to come out now?" one of the volunteers asked.
"Soon, everyone will know," Vitaly answered without turning around. "There's no point in keeping it secret. We're running out of food. And medicine. If we don't start making surface runs, we'll all starve."
"So it's true?" another volunteer said, worried. "We thought the supplies would last for years."
"That damn rat plague wiped out almost everything at Timiryazevskaya Station," Semyon added, spitting on the ground. "Hardly anyone survived there. Other stations had caches too, but those are gone as well."
"I heard rumors that some tunnels were sealed off. So it was because of the mutant rat infestation?" a volunteer asked, looking at Vitaly. "If food is really running out, that's just the start of our problems."
"So if we don't find the supplies, we're doomed to starve," another volunteer muttered, his voice shaking.
"Most likely, yes," Vitaly nodded. "But these stockpiles were designed to last. The government wasn't stupid. They calculated everything to sustain the population in isolation. If our intel is correct, the food should be enough for another twenty years."
"Let's hope that's true," the volunteer said with relief.
"Do you think we'll ever return to the surface?" I asked, unable to hide the hope in my voice. Deep inside, I still dreamed of escaping this concrete prison. And I wasn't the only one. We had all lived before the war. We all wanted to go back.
"Hard to say," Semyon replied thoughtfully. "The radiation is still too high. Unless we go as far from Moscow as possible. But we don't know what's out there. What if it's the same everywhere? We'd just vanish in the wasteland of the nuclear apocalypse."
That thought haunted me as well. What if there was nowhere else to go but the metro? If survival was possible at all, it would come at an enormous cost countless lives lost just to carve out a chance.
The conversation died out on its own. We kept moving in silence, glancing around warily. Finally, we reached a residential complex. Beneath it, there was supposed to be a supply depot. According to the data, all the rations had been hidden under a layer of concrete at least half a meter thick. If radiation had seeped in, it wouldn't be at dangerous levels.
The entrance was located in the basement of one of the buildings, so we had to go inside first.
Approaching the entrance, I peered through a shattered window. I imagined what had happened in that tragic moment. As I stared inside, a vision formed before my eyes the bomb's shockwave, flames, people desperately trying to find shelter. Tragic and horrifying.
The door had been blown inward and was barely holding together. The blast wave had ravaged much of the city, leaving little in its place.
As we stepped inside, we came across a locked metal grate. Using an old but reliable method, we cut through it with bolt cutters. Below, a sealed door awaited us. When Vitaly began turning the lock, it opened with surprising ease. Strangely enough, the mechanism worked effortlessly.
We stepped inside and froze dust and emptiness stretched out before us. It seemed as though no one had ever made it in. Everything looked eerily untouched.
Our flashlights sliced through the darkness as we moved down the corridor.
"Semyon, stay on guard at the entrance. We need to keep the door shut so the radiation doesn't seep in," Vitaly ordered.
"Got it," Semyon responded, staying behind while we continued deeper inside.
Vitaly stopped at a wall and illuminated a facility map with his flashlight. It marked storage zones and emergency evacuation routes. Memorizing the layout, we moved forward and stopped in front of one of the rooms.
"There should be PPE here," Vitaly said. Gripping the handle, he opened the door. Inside, the room was filled with crates labeled PPE.
We began inspecting the crates, but to our horror, most of them were empty.
"This can't be! I don't believe it," Vitaly cursed, slamming his fist against the wall.
"Damn it! Someone took everything. And I bet on paper, it's all still accounted for. But in reality just empty crates," a volunteer added, clenching his fists.
I understood their anger. Out of three opened crates, only one contained anything useful. It made me wonder what else we would find or rather, what we wouldn't. If this place had already been looted, what did that mean for the other supply depots?
"You two, check the other supply rooms. We need to understand how bad this really is," Vitaly ordered two volunteers. Then, turning to me, he said, "You and I will check the records. We need to find any documents on other stockpiles or traces of whoever did this. If those bastards are still somewhere in the metro, we're going to find them."
Although the chances were slim, Vitaly was clearly determined to get to the bottom of this. Many of those who had survived in the metro clung to the last remnants of hope, and he was no exception.
We made our way to the administrative section. That was where all the information about the warehouse should have been stored waybills, inventory lists, reports. Everything that was supposed to be here. But now, most likely, nothing was left.
Finding the right room, we stepped inside. The atmosphere was heavy. A dead man lay slumped over the desk.
As we got closer, we were surprised to see a pistol in his hand and dark brown bloodstains on the wall. It looked like he had shot himself. But why? So there had been a guard here.
On the desk, there was a single unopened ration pack nothing else. Searching the room, we found several more empty wrappers. It seemed like he had survived the catastrophe, only to eventually take his own life.
Going through the documents, we came across a map marking warehouses in this district. At the very least, there were supposed to be two more.
"Perfect. That means we've got more supply runs ahead of us," Vitaly said, folding the map.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. One of our men burst into the room, his face tense. Without pausing, he reported:
"Sir, there's nothing. Absolutely nothing. Everything was locked up just like here, but after opening at least a dozen, we only found emptiness."
"What do you mean 'nothing'?" Vitaly frowned. He turned to the corpse, staring at it for a long moment before finally snapping and kicking it.
"That bastard shot himself. A pathetic coward," he growled, seething with rage. "He knew there was nothing left. Sold everything off, drank it all away, that worthless piece of shit."
Vitaly kept shouting, kicking the guard's lifeless body while the rest of us watched in silence. Theft was common in warehouse operations, but now we were the ones paying the price right when we needed those supplies the most. It was disgusting. Even if the warehouses had been restocked at some point, everything had vanished because of scum like this man.
"This is a fucking disaster! A goddamn nightmare!" Vitaly yelled, throwing his arms around in frustration. "Fuck!"
We remained silent, but deep down, we all agreed with him. Anger was boiling inside each of us. After a few moments, Vitaly started to calm down, catching his breath and regaining his composure.
I was furious too, but I kept it to myself.
Finally, once Vitaly had cooled off a bit, we resumed searching the warehouse to make sure we hadn't missed anything. The conclusion was the same there was no food. None at all. Only personal protective equipment and some miscellaneous gear, which might have been useful, but it was nothing compared to the grim reality that awaited us starvation.
Realizing that food was now the top priority, we had to change tactics. We needed to look for stores or any other warehouses where even a few remaining supplies might have survived. If we found anything, we could either process it or put it to use.
"Looks like we have no other choice. We have to move on," Vitaly said. "Get ready, we don't have much time."
We agreed to act quickly. A few minutes later, Vitaly gave the order:
"Time check. Swap out the old filters, put in new ones."
Setting a fresh timer, I removed my filter, replaced it, and held my breath as I did so.
"Move out. Heading southeast. Estimated time: fifteen minutes," Vitaly commanded.
We moved forward. The store was in a basement. According to one of the volunteers, Matvey, he had lived in this area and used to visit that store before the war. There was a chance that some supplies might still be there.
As we walked down the street, I caught something flickering in the sky out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head, I tried to make sense of what it was.
A bird? What nonsense. What bird could survive in this radiation? Nothing but rats could make it out here. Maybe I was just imagining things. I tried not to dwell on it and caught up with the group.
Reaching the store, we started descending into the basement. It was dark. The doors were shut, and from the looks of it, locked from the inside. Could someone be hiding in there?
"Let's try to get it open," Semyon suggested.
The two of us pushed against the door, straining until we finally forced it open. Inside, the place looked... odd. The door had been reinforced with all sorts of junk, as if someone had tried to barricade themselves in whether against radiation or some other threat, we couldn't tell.
"Hey! Is anyone in here?" Vitaly called out.
Silence.
We stood still, tense, until suddenly, we heard a faint rustling sound.
"Semyon, take two with you. You, with me. Weapons ready," Vitaly ordered.
Moving forward cautiously, we swept every corner with our eyes. If someone had survived down here, it meant there were still people left somewhere in Moscow.
After passing through a few empty aisles of shelves, we heard the sound again. Vitaly raised a hand, signaling us to stop. He lifted his rifle and carefully rounded the corner. I followed behind, unable to see what lay ahead.
"Civilian... Identify yourself," Vitaly called out.
As I stepped closer, I finally saw it too.
In the center of the room, a man sat hunched over, fumbling with something on the floor. My gaze dropped, and my breath hitched. Lying in front of him was a body.
"Hey! Speak up, I won't ask again!" Vitaly snapped.
No reaction. It was as if he hadn't heard a word.
Keeping his rifle trained on him, Vitaly approached slowly from behind, cautiously placing a hand on the man's shoulder to get his attention.
And then everything changed in an instant.
The figure twisted around so suddenly that I barely had time to process what was happening. His face if you could even call it that was contorted, more beast than human. Jagged, rotting teeth jutted from his gaping mouth, his skin stretched tight over his skull.
He was dead.
And there was no way he had ever been human anymore.
[IMAGE]
*AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!*
A bloodcurdling scream tore from his throat as he struck Vitaly with inhuman force, knocking him off his feet.
*TRRRRRRRRRR!*
Gunfire erupted, a burst of rounds tearing through the air.
Without hesitation, I lunged to help. Grabbing the creature by the throat, I tried to pull it away from Vitaly, but it thrashed violently, gnashing its rotting teeth, desperate to sink them into him.
"Die, you bastard!" Vitaly shouted.
Breaking free, he drew his knife and, wasting no time, stabbed the thing repeatedly. But even then, it wouldn't stop moving. Not until Vitaly struck again and again, until it finally went still.
"What the hell is this?" I exhaled, staring at the corpse.
"No idea, but it sure as hell isn't human," Vitaly panted.
*AAAAAAAHHHHH!*
Screams and gunfire erupted from another part of the store.
"Move! We have to help them!" Vitaly barked.
We sprinted toward the chaos. When we arrived, we were met with a horrifying sight four of those creatures had surrounded Semyon and Dima. Semyon fired desperately, while Dima, panicked, was shooting wildly in all directions.
I drew my pistol, took aim, and opened fire alongside Vitaly.
A relentless barrage of bullets shredded the creatures, their bodies collapsing to the ground with sickening thuds. Adrenaline surged through my veins, my heart pounded like a hammer. The whole scene felt unreal, like a nightmare.
"Stay sharp! No one lets their guard down! Secure the area!" Vitaly snapped, dragging us back to reality.
Shaking off the shock, I checked on the others.
"Semyon, stay here. You cover us. I'm moving ahead," Vitaly ordered, heading toward Matvey's body.
He walked on, staying slightly ahead, leaving the task to us. I knew what needed to be done. Kneeling beside Sergey, I took in the horrific sight his body was mangled, his suit torn to shreds, blood soaking the floor.
No time to hesitate.
Steeling myself, I removed his mask. His eyes were empty, glassy. His mouth frozen in a final scream. Pressing my fingers to his neck, I felt no pulse only the warmth of fresh blood. Lowering my gaze, I saw the horrifying truth: his throat had been ripped open, like something had torn through it with monstrous strength.
"He's gone," I muttered.
"Take his weapon. Prepare for another fight," Vitaly ordered.
I picked up his pistol, pausing for just a second.
"Your death won't be in vain. We'll remember your sacrifice and warn others about the danger."
That's how I justified it to myself. Maybe I could have been in his place.
"Move out. We clear the store and be ready for immediate action," Vitaly commanded, signaling us forward.
We had checked most of the store already only the storage area remained. Circling back, we confirmed the place was empty, then approached the final door. Two men flanked the entrance, one ready to breach, the other aiming his rifle at the opening.
Raising his fist, our teammate started the countdown.
"Three… Two… One."
He kicked the door open, tossed in a grenade, and slammed it shut.
A scream pierced the silence then came the explosion.
Semyon swung the door wide, and we unleashed a hailstorm of bullets.
I caught movement in the doorway mutated figures charging toward us only to be cut down one by one. The soldiers reacted instantly, adjusting to the threat with brutal efficiency.
"Hold!" Vitaly commanded.
We fell back into the shadows, waiting. Silence.
"Move in."
We swept the storage area, scanning shelves and crates. Nothing. Just dust and darkness. To be sure, we searched again. Only when the commander gave the signal did I finally exhale.
We got lucky this time. But we could have died.
Matvey… I hadn't known him long. We met on this mission. But it still hurt to lose a comrade.
This was the reality of radiation's aftermath. Looking at the twisted corpse of what was once human, I saw nothing left of a person. Only hunger. A mindless urge to devour.
The surface had changed. And so had the rules of survival.