In 2013, the events occur, named Three Fatalities. The fall of huge meteorite and the subsequent epidemic of the virus called "Chimera", which changes everything it touches. In 2015, half a world destroyed by simultaneous triggering of all nuclear weapons - right in the launch sites. In the air raised a myriad of tons of ash and dust, starts a new ice age, which turned world into ice desert. In warmer latitudes reign "Hungers" - once the people, and now man-eating monsters. Year 2100. In the north, under the protection of eternal frost the few who were lucky to survive the apocalypse, waging a desperate struggle with the cold, hunger, and with each other. Underground facilities are turned into shelters, abandoned apartment buildings - in the greenhouse. Stalkers ransacking dead cities in searching of supplies, medicines and equipment. In this situation, the people have only one hope: breaking more than a thousand kilometers of land, swarming creatures, find a laboratory in which has been developed but not used another virus - "cleaner." Only with him still have a chance to regain world back.

The main character, a mercenary Max is infected "chimera", and he faces a simple choice: to kill himself in the next month or two or finally morph into the Hunger. The last contract he signs not for himself: for him there is no hope, but he still can save from similar fate woman, which is not indifferent to Max. And in this desperate enterprise intertwined fates of dying mercenary, robber Olga and a strange man by the name of the Wastelander, who is the guide of the group.
However, the Suicide Squad even could not imagine what awaits them in a way, because the most dangerous enemy - internal, and their guide lost his memory and keeps an even more sinister secret.
And, of course, people desperately clinging to life in the land of eternal winter, do not know too much.

 

Valley of the Mortal shadows

 

Prologue. Way of the wolf.

 

 

Olga made a warning gesture: there was one more tension wire. No comments, it was properly installed. The thin wire was attached to rusty banisters above the step and went along the floor round the corner of stair landing. You could catch it on and even did not notice, especially if your attention was focused on the next flight of stairs. In this case, you would not be able to hear a loud "ba-boom" behind your back.

“Wire cutters,” Olga whispered softly and held out her hand backward.

Stas quietly put the tool into the open palm. One click - and the trip-wire became defused. Olga waited ten seconds, not hurrying to peek out round the corner. Who knows, the trip-wire could be with a trick. The girl saw a lot during her twenty-four years, or more precisely over the past seven years.

Nothing happened. She waved her hand in silence – “Let’s move” - and flitted around the corner as a shadow. Stas and Vadim moved after her gripping arms in their hands.

"They move too loud " - Olga sighed with a slight disappointment. So much time has been spent to teach their small pack to move silently ... and all for nothing. Only Nikita learnt lessons good. But unfortunately he learnt them selectively. He broke the most important rule. And that’s why Olga, Stas and Vadim continue their journey for three already for last two months.

“Lynx, it will be dark soon.” Stas recalled, - “owner, in theory, should be back shortly.”

“It would be only worse for him.” the girl snapped out.

Her nickname suited her. Short, fragile at first glance, Olga could not get tired to walk couple of days. She could lie in ambush long and hard, or trace a prey and attack with lightning speed, leaving no chance for enemy to resist. Olga was a born leader. Already for half a year she was a leader of their pack, and during that time she did not lose anyone. Nikita could not be counted: he was ruined by self-confidence and arrogance.

Finally there was a door. The intuition of hunting predator gave a tip that this was exactly the one, behind which an unknown tramp found his den. That was logically clear: it was the only door what was chipped by stainless steel and therefore was not rotted as the others. It was reasonable to stay exactly in this apartment.

The door was not locked. Really, how the local inhabitant could close it if the key was lost more than fifty years ago!  Door opened with a barely audible squeak. Apparently, the hinges were lubricated. Smart. But sealing up windows was not wise, or rather, it was not clever at all.

Olga entered the hall, holding the gun with both hands and bending low. At any moment she was ready to shoot at a sound and rush to the side, opening up the sector of fire for guys’ assault rifles. Vainly - the owner was not at home.

“Vadim, you are to the stairs.” Lynx commanded shortly. And he took a stand around the corner dutifully. There was the sound of a knife cutting the cord: the grenade from discharged trip-wire went to Vadim’s cartridge pouch.

Olga looked around. There was clean, comfortable and relatively warm. Good place of living. Actually it was so good that she even wanted to stay here herself. Of course, when the owner returns, he would be needed either to turn out, or simply to be killed, but ... Just that comfort of the habitation made it to be so dangerous. Taped windows openings attracted to much attention compare with gaping adjacent windows openings. Even more reliable indication was a pipe of homemade fireplace, what looked out from the balcony. Smoke in the middle of the dead city, during the endless winter – you could not imagine more impressive conspicuous factor.

“Look!” Stas called, scarcely containing his joy.

The girl nodded approvingly looking at the small mound of the canned stewed meat. The same amount of condensed milk cans was near them. And Olga could hardly to hold imperturbable expression: she rejoiced like a child in her heart. Well, as it said, every cloud has a silver lining: nuclear winter frost, what put mankind on the brink of extinction, not only saved the remnants thereof from Hungers, but preserved many such treasures in the ruins of dead cities for those, who were willing to gamble their lives. However, those literally “gold deposits” became less and wolfbanes, who were eager to dine up daredevil stalkers – more and more.  So it was not surprise, that many decades after Doomsday, the can of condensed milk became a real rarity. Only the rich could afford such a luxury, but still only on holidays.

New guns, clothes, ammo, maybe even a night vision goggle - all these can be bartered for the precious cans. Although ... damn! The rich could do without it. Lynx was not going to give away such delicacy. Stas and Vadim would receive a couple of cans, and they are free to decide, what to do with them. She would enjoy her own part without any helpers. They could only pray that thick brown paste, what was so valued by gourmets, kept in paled rusted cans. Considering that the cans were kept in some basement vault, where year-round temperature was below zero, - there was a chance to get edible condensed milk, and not trash.

“Load up.” Olga commanded shortly, - “I will go on looking”.

In next room she found a sleeping bag, few packets of dry biscuits, frozen water in plastic bottles, covered with a plate half-eaten meal of boiled potatoes and stewed meat, and a shabby coat. There were also few pounds of frozen potatoes and firewood for the homemade fireplace in one corner.

Lynx stuffed dry biscuits in her pockets silently. Everything else had little value: the jacket is nothing special, and the potatoes are just not worth notice. As she left the room, Olga brushed her foot against a plastic bag with gory bandages and dressing packaging.

“Idiot.”  Olga spoke through clenched teeth. If the one, who she and her little pack robbed today, was injured, he just really should not even show his face out of the sanctuary at that time of night! The wolfbanes, who could easily smell blood, were too strong opponents for a wounded man.

Of course, if he has been at home, he certainly had to deal with Lynx and her team, but with due prudence he would have stayed alive. And it is impossible to come to an agreement with outgrown “dogs”. On the way Olga saw track of these creatures on snow - at least three major species hang about in nearby neighborhoods. Or maybe they are already feasting on the corpse.

“I also found the alcohol.”  Stas boasted and showed a sealed bottle of vodka to returning Lynx.

Vodka was as old as the condensed milk and was from preapocalyptic times. And it was valued highly, very highly.

“Leave the bottle there. And two cans of stewed beef”. Olga ordered shortly.

“What the…”

Olga just raised her eyebrow with affected surprise. The guy quietly pushed two cans to the side and began to pack the rest of goods into their backpacks.

“What’s there?” Olga asked Vadim. He shook his head: nothing and nobody.

Most likely that her noble impulse will go to waste: the host is almost certainly dead. Lynx did not have any illusions about the chances of single person, even armed person, against at least three wolfbanes. And his wound, that extends the smell of blood, is a sort of beacon. It would lead predators of their prey unmistakably. Anyway, what’s done is done. The leader should not change their decisions too often.

Olga waited until the guys load themselves up with backpacks, what became heavier with the rich booty. She hid the gun into her holster and moved the rifle from back to side. Chances to meet more dangerous predators, than Olga herself and her two-legged wolves, are high enough. And their maneuverability is not up too much. Although wolfbanes would hardly attack the three well-armed men: many of them know very well that an automatic weapon – is pain.

“Let’s move!” she waved her hand and began to walk down the stairs.

It was snowing a little outside – a real rarity in recent times. If the snowfall lasts at least till midnight, their footsteps will be surely covered. Olga lifted up the collar of her short coat.

“It could be nice to live here.” Vadim sigh. – “A fireplace, heat ...”

“Just wait till we return to any settlement. We’ll live in the warm” the girl replied.

“Listen, Lynx, why did you actually leave alcohol and meat? ” asked Stas.

“Do you really grudge it? The owner seems to be a stalker and he was wounded. No food will cost him a life. But if he survives, he may once again find some loot.”

“What about vodka?”

“ Do you remember how everything finished last time, when we found some vodka?” Olga replied with a question, and Stas shut up.

Of course, all of them remembered it very well: Nikita’ cut throat. Self-confidence, spurred by secretly drunk vodka, forced the guy to break the most important pack’s taboo – she-wolf herself chooses her wolf. Since then, Stas and Vadim finally realized that their destiny is to compete for the Olga’s favor and undress her with their eyes only secretly. For any other abuse of them will wait for the fate of Nikita. Guys no longer doubted that Lynx’s hand would not tremble cutting throats of any of them.

No one of them knew - that all their efforts, sometimes passing into a risky frank show, are doomed to be lost in vain. They were mediocre fighters with modest intellectual abilities. Vadim and Stas did not represent anything without Olga. And as an equal partner and companion no one of them did not suit for Lynx.

However the girl had already become accustomed to their company, and thought with regret that she will have to part with them sooner or later. Maybe they are not too clever, but they are devoted. And these two guys are the only people in the whole world, to whom Olga ventured to turn her back.

The wolfbane’s growling bark was heard somewhere in the distance.

"I hope you're lucky if you're still alive" – Lynx’s thoughts turned to the unknown stalker and threw him out of the head: right now there is much more important to think about how to lead her group to their own sanctuary.

 

 

Chapter 1. The raid.

 

“Styx, to the left. Don’t cluster together!”
“Got it.”

Max noted that his fighter skirted the snowdrift from the other side and took his place in formation.

“About ten degrees under zero.” Raven breathed out exhaled a cloud of exhalation.
“Ye... It’s bearable. It will be worse when it's completely dark.”

Max looked around once more, though he knew where all the members of his small team were. Raven, Styx and Gray were exactly where he expected to see them.

They silently ploughed up by their feet shallow, ankle-deep snow with a hard crust. Bright spot of sun, hidden by leaden clouds, was slowly sinking below the horizon. Max heard a plaintive crunch of metal: he must have stepped on the roof of the abandoned car. There were ninety years of frost and snowfalls - and not a single thaw. No wonder that now he walks in a good one and a half meters above the ground, in the packed to a density of asphalt snow. Once his ancestors went through deep snow skiing, but now skiing is simply not needed. Water accumulates in the form of snow forever, without returning to the atmosphere. From year to year the snowfall is more and more rare phenomenon, and the snow beneath feet packed more and more. The soft, squeaky, more recently fallen snow is only at the very top of this layer.

“Was not worth to go at this time of night thrust into the raid” Styx said softly. “Specially with such third-rate motley crew.”

Raven hemmed with sarcasm, as if signing under the unflattering characteristic, what the fellow gave to the other participants in the operation. Max shrugged his shoulders indifferently in response:

“What surprises you? You'd think we were the first time hired for unskillful, carelessly organized affairs. In this case they at least sent about thirty people – therefore it is not a deliberate slaughter.”

“And it sucks” Gray put in a word, who was silent from the settlement. “If there were only the pros - it would be much better. There no much help from these underground rats. Look at them! Those idiots bunched up. One grenade from the grenade launcher – and it will be a dozen dead bodies.”

“Less” Max disagreed.

“About five would be killed. Others would be injured and anyway would soon die. No one would drag them on the back during the night for fifteen kilometers. Even their friends.”

“Not “even their” but “specially theirs” ”. Styx corrected with contempt in his voice. “I think that in this raid they sent the most worthless ... who they would not miss.”

The leader of the group looked to the right, at the group of Wild Boar. They are marching good, cheerfully, and in the correct order. On occasion, it will be good to keep close to them. Indeed he could not really count at the local fighters, residents of the village, what hired them. There are thirty bodies, and maybe only ten of them have the real battle experience in the open field, away from their fortifications. After all, Max understood the desire to return the stolen goods, as well as the unwillingness to send in the raid the best, efficient men, leaving the settlement unprotected. That was why he was hired with his team, the brigades of Wild Boar and Satan. But the chairman still was not wise to send the most green men... or, on the contrary, it was very clever move, if Styx rights. Well, what the heck, this chairman.

He, Max, and his comrades, are used to go nowhere and not known for sure. He knew that the trading caravan, which was carrying something very valuable, was pillaged near a city, which lies in ruins near the old tank factory. The plant itself, an impressive and once secret underground facility, was situated in a very convenient location at the crossroads of several trade routes.  The community, what settled there, simply prospered, producing almost nothing, except for the mushrooms and meat for their own needs. Because caravans paid well for the opportunity to hide during bad weather and relax in complete safety and comfort of the underground fortress. Goods, weapons, ammunition and food, that was their payment. In addition, trading in the settlement was in full swing too. As a result, all necessary for life went into the underground settlement from outside itself, without need for searching and earning. Finally the community of the village had a well-organized security and reliable fortifications, but their fighters were nothing on the other side of their loopholes and did not understand a damn thing in hand-to-hand combat. However, the inability to conduct operations outside of their possessions could easily offset by the funds, what used to hire professional soldiers of fortune.

But the nearest ruins of the once been a hundred-thousand-populated city became a refuge for several bandit groups, earning their livelihood by plundering caravans. However, residents of the Plant, as they called their settlement, were not able to make a clean-up operation in ruins by their own forces. In truth, there were needed at least three companies of professional soldiers, rather than individual small groups like the brigades of Satan, or Wild Boar.

“Leadel, Leadel, it’s Satan.” was heard in Max’s headphones. “I see falmstead at ze bottom of  ze hill. Obviosly populated.”

“That are they, bastards.” the commander of The Plant’s soldiers and operation’s leader spoke hoarsely. “Begin surround them.”

“Hehe, chinaman speaks so funny” said someone unfamiliar to Max.

‘Do not clutter up the air, Three Misfortunes on your head!” The leader roared.

Max turned to his comrades:

“Seems that we are near a target.”

All four put down night vision devices on the eyes and clicked on the toggle switches of storage batteries, what were attached to the belts under jackets.

The coming night immediately brightened and acquired tints of green. Now they could see not only groups of Wild Boar and the Plant’s, but coming at the forefront “Satanists”, as jokingly nicknamed a group of Satan.

Forty-five people skirted the hill from both sides and began to narrow semi-circle around the three one-storey log houses.

One of the building looked dilapidated, perhaps, there supplies were stored. There was dim light in the windows of two others.

“Attention, mines seck up.” Satan said on the walkie-talkie.

About five minutes people lied still in the snow, while “Satanists” groped around a safe route by mine detector. Then the message came that the mines were not found.

The circle narrowed, and at that time the machine gun attacked from the top of the hill, which was about two hundred meters away and twenty meters above the roofs of houses.

A complete bedlam immediately began in the headphones. Equipped with walkie-talkies, but unaccustomed to the discipline the Plant’s people were yelling and swearing, someone was already gurgling of blood.

Rifles and grenade launchers opened rapid fire towards the hill, but without much effect: grenades either flew over a poorly distinguishable in the twilight machine-gun nest, or exploded down the slope. In response, assault rifles also answered from the hill - sparingly and prudently.

“Wild Boar to Shrike! Something must be done with that fucking gun ...” Wild Boar's voice cut off chaos in the air. “ Lost one. Try to skirt the hill on the left!”

“Jiast watch who you shoot.” The leader of the “Satanists” was immediately determined by his accent.  “We go up on zee light!”

“We are alone, as I understood it.” Raven hemmed behind. “This riffraf is already in a panic and lost about six men.”

“Wild Boar and Satan with us. And locals… - yes, they are nothing. Skirt the hill from the left. Let’s go, on all fours!”

“Yea-yea” Grey replied for three, and quadruple started to crawl on their stomachs toward the slope.

The situation was not so hopeless. The robbers may have found a punitive expedition beforehand and prepared a warm “welcome”, but they did not have the night vision devices. Otherwise, the machine gunman had already killed a lot more attackers.

“Max,” Styx whispered. “have you noticed that none was shooting from the rest of the houses? It could be comfortable to lie down on the roofs and defend.”

“Yes. There are certainly women, and perhaps children. Come here behind a boulder!”

At this moment, someone, either from Plant’s or from Wild Boar group, laid a grenade in the machine gun nest very neatly or very close to it, because the heavy fire stopped. Almost simultaneously another explosion threw up the snow and remains of the human body in the middle of Plant’s men formation, and the voice of their leader, who has been trying to give orders, fell silent in the mid-sentence.

Max rushed up, running from one boulder to another. Silhouette of a fur coat and fabric helmet-face mask with slits for eyes loomed in front of him, and mercenary reflexively pressed the sear. His "Abakan" clapped out two bullets, and the bandit silently fell on his back. Almost simultaneously, the same claps could be heard from behind, and the second body fell into the snow next to the first - Styx was on a level, as usual.

No one has noticed the flank attack of four mercenaries, and Max thought that silencers, what cost him a lot in past, cover all expenses. Their guns produced noise less than the small-caliber weapons, and those bangs just lost in the echoing beats of dozens of "Kalashnikov" and rolling machine-guns barking.

He threw a quick glance down to the right. From here the attackers are clearly visible. At this moment the machine gun started to work again, sowing havoc and death below. Wild Boar tried to take command, but only his soldiers obeyed him. Randomly shooting and crawling back Plant’s men, who lost half of their team, have become an excellent target for the gunman, who was beating the short bursts, focusing on flashes.

Just a few minutes, and will not be any employer’s fighters and Wild Boar’s team. Damn it!

Crawling from stone to stone, from boulder to boulder, four mercenaries rose higher, silently killing unsuspecting enemies in short bursts. The din of guns did not give any chance to hear the claps of rifles with silencers.

A bit upper and more to the right on the slope Max noticed a gunman’s head, self-forgetfully pouring out lead on people down. Finger in the thin glove moved a change lever to single shots – no sense to spend two cartridges, where one is totally enough. One quiet clap, merged with the sound of bullet piercing the skull - and the gunman vanished from the sight, leaving part of his brains on the rock behind what he has been hiding.

From his side Max saw a boulder, part of a sandbags fortification, peeping from one side of the stone, and ejecting flame and lead the barrel of machine gun “Pecheneg” - from another. At some distance torn by explosion the first gunman’s body lay. Both the shot and the machine gun were behind the stone. It was only ten meters of open space to it. It was impossible to guess if there was someone else in the nest, except that shot. Mercenary made a command by gesture, got up from his stomach and pushed forward bent double, praying not to catch a stray bullet from Plant people.

He skirted the boulder and found himself three meters away from the machine gunman, from a side and slightly behind. The shot has not seen or heard the death sneaked from behind. Already prepared to give a short burst from the hip, Max suddenly realized that there is a teenager or a woman in front of him. He changed his mind and quickly rushed forward.

The gunman felt Max by sixth sense, turned around and tried to get a rifle hanging on his side, but did not succeed. Mercenary landed a direct hit by a butt in a stomach, knocking the opponent with his shoulder and leaned all his weight upon the gunman. Max released his rifle and grabbed the shot’s right hand and the throat. The gunman tried to gouge Max’s eye with his left hand, but finally, he was thrown decisively be Max’s hands to the ground. An attempt to free his hands, turning them toward mercenary’s thumbs, failed - the forces were too unequal, and Max was finally convinced – that was a woman.

“Don’t twitch” he gasped. “If you want to live.”

Through a night viewing device he saw a gap in a fur mask and wide-open eyes under it it. “It’s pity, a night vision device is monochrome, can’t recognize a color” - a stupid idea flashed in his mind

“What’s up?” - Styx asked quietly from behind.

The whole group was already behind their leader.

“Let’s go to the light and will see.” Max grinned and said to the walkie-talkie: “Satan, do you hear me? We are at the top; the machine gun is under control!”

“I see” Satan responded quietly, appearing from another side of the boulder. “Seems zat you contlol not only zee machine-gun. Thelah no enemies from oulah side as well.”

His fighters loomed behind a short man.

“Tell your people not to shoot at houses.” prisoner suddenly blurted out. “There are no armed men, only women and children! Come on, tell them!”

“Wild Boar, can you hear us? The resistance is suppressed.”

 “I have noticed.” He answered hoarsely. “None fires on us any longer.”

“Wild Boar, there are women and children in the houses, there are no enemies there. Did you understand?”

He thought for a moment:

“Got it. Where the information come from?”

“From a prisoner.”

“I see. Come down, let’s look together. Otherwise Plant’s men could start shooting without a reason. They are rather angry - they have heaps of dead.”

Max gave the prisoner to Raven and Gray, and nodded to Satan, taking him aside.

“Don’t tell anyone that it was she who was shooting as a favor. She will be just killed.”

“Zat’s your business” Chinese shrugged phlegmatically. “And your tlophy.”

“I owe you.” The mercenary grinned to his colleague.

A minute later he was going down on the left slope. Behind him Gray was leading the captive, Raven and Styx were walking behind him. Satan and his men remained at the machine gun, collecting weapons, ammunition and looting corpses. After a short talk by walkie-talkie with Wild Boar he sent Plant’s men to help wounded survivors, and therefore, when the mercenaries broke into the houses, Max quietly brought his prey without being noticed by locals.

In the hallway he took off her fur hat-mask, and received convince that the reality exceeded his wildest expectations. That was an young, about twenty-five years old, woman with brown hair, brown eyes, smooth skin and nice features. Styx whistled admiringly behind the leader.

“What is your name?”

The girl’s eyes twinkled angrily, but she restrained herself, realizing that the situation was not very favorable.

“Kira” She introduced herself grimly.

“Very pretty name. I'm Max. So, listen carefully, Kira. When the firing has started, you jumped out of the house and hid on the hill, where I found you. This is your version. You killed about eight people, or even more, and if locals would know about it - you are done in. Understand?”

“Are you a mercenary?” She guessed.

“Exactly.”

There were six women and three children in one house basement. Women, as it turned out, had been abducted by the gang much earlier - the first was abducted two years ago. All of them were good-looking. Well, it was not surprising - who would abduct an ugly woman?

They were very frightened and in tears, but they should not be so nervous. Most likely they would become new habitants of the village living in the depths of the tank Plant. And tomorrow would not bring them any disturbances. In any society, young women are always welcome - the society in whole and their future husbands. Even such dowry as a need to fostering somebody’s child is a very reasonable price for a beautiful wife in the lack of the fair sex, and a severe competition among males.

Max pushed Kira into a corner, where the weeping women and children huddled together. He felt a little sorry for them - maybe some of them loved their abductors, and those kids just lost their fathers, though they probably did not understand it yet. Alas, but the world of eternal severe cold is the cruel world.

Four-year girl with a cry – “Mother!” - rushed to Kira, and the woman unbuttoned her short coat, sat on a bench, put her daughter on knees and pressed to her breast.

Max smiled a bit. Strong women, who were able to take up arms, were his weakness. This devil’s creature was exactly of such type - the beautiful and damned dangerous in any other situation. But even a strong woman becomes vulnerable with a child. In fact, Kira was entirely in his power now, though, she might not be aware of this yet.

Max turned to Wild Boar, middle-aged solidly built brawny fellow:

“Stepan, what shall we do next?” There was no need of call signs in personal conversation, so he spoke to his interlocutor by name.

“God knows. Chief of the Plant’s men is killed, his assistant, too – they were both killed by one grenade. What exactly we need to return, others do not know. So it is.”

“What are their losses?”

“Only eleven people remained. There is no reason to come back right now, as you see. And actually we will not be able to do it without transport. Women and children will not manage fifteen kilometers at night time.”

Boar lowered his voice:

“That's what bothers me. People from the village is one conversation, they answer their village elder ...”

“Ivan Nikolayevich is the Chairman,” Max said. “It’s his title.”

“Horse-radish isn't sweeter than garden radish. Don’t know about yours, but my bulls did not have any deals with females long time. I am afraid that something might happen.”

“The prisoners are at the disposal of the employer” the mercenary reminded contract clause. “The contract is the contract. We would give even bonuses for them.”

Wild Boar nodded:

“Yes, I remember. Just saying – what if something happened...”

“Never mind. If there is any case - barrel to a forehead and brains on the wall. Just kidding, OK? Did you lose one today?” Max turned the conversation to another topic.

“Ye. I should confess Ram was a jerk. Do not really feel pity for him.”

At this moment Peter Ushinsky came. He was the eldest of the Plant’s men among remained people. He was darker than night, and three fellows with him looked the same. It's no joke - losing nineteen men in less than five minutes. Of course, Peter would not answer for that - he's not a commander. But now he had the opportunity to advance.

“I just talked with Satan. He has no losses. Shrike, what about you?”

“No loss” the mercenary said.

“Really great” Ushinsky spoke bitterly. “You have only one killed among a half dozen of people. Why, the hell, we needed to hire you for that business, anyway we got lots of casualties!”

“We were hired to do job that amateurs can not manage, and not to die instead of them,” Wild Boar countered. Max only sniffed.

“If you did not hire us you would all be already dead” he said.

Nobody liked Ushinsky. He was a wily schemer, always tried to assume others’ merits. Plant’s quite friendly team tolerated him only because he knew how to repair weapons. And the fact that he was among those, whom Ivan Nikolaevich had sent to the raid, was very expressive. It seems that the Chairman became really tired of Ushinsky.

Meanwhile, he glanced at the group of women and stopped at Kira.

“It seems that we will get not so boring night as a reward for our labors,” he hissed to his friends.

Kira started, heard it, and her eyes flashed with an evil light. Other women sobbings became louder.

“I do not think you deserve a reward for being buried in snow deeper than those who died.” Max answered coldly.

“Become saucy, Shrike?” Peter hissed through clenched teeth.

“I'm just doing the work I have been paid for,” he smiled. “The prisoners are at the disposal of the employer.”

“ And so who do you think I am?” Ushinsky said arrogantly.

“My employer is Sibiryakov Ivan Nikolaevich.”  The mercenary cut off. “And you're just aspiring amateur. Now get out from here. You have to go with your men back to the settlement to say Ivan Nikolaevich that the robbers were killed, and we are expecting transport for women and trophy goods.”

 “Great idea,” Wild Boar grinned. “So be it!”

“How do you dare to order me, you ...” Ushinsky hissed.

“Good God, no. I just tell you that the teams of Wild Boar, Satan and Shrike remain here. There are place accurate for two dozen people in the two houses. Exactly for us and for women with children. So do what you want. You can go home now, or, if you want, - spend the night outside and go home in the morning.”

Both mercenary grinned, and their subordinates began to spread out in sarcastic and contemptuous grins, too.

When Plant’s men were expelled from the house, one of the girls dared to speak:

 “Tell me,” she said to Wild Boar. “They are all like that there? I mean, your employers ...”

“Definitely not.” Max answered instead of him. “I assure you that the head of the village is quite a decent person, like most others. There are not a lot freaks like this one. Just here, to the slaughter, they sent us, mercenaries, because it’s our job, and all sorts of riffraff, for whom no one would cry.”

“So, only talks, and I want to eat.” Styx said. “There must be something to eat. I'm tired of dried crusts!”

 

***

 

After a simple but hearty dinner people started preparing for bed. The soup was made from dried mushrooms, potatoes and good pork, and cooked in an impressive pan by girl Tatiana. It pleasantly burden stomachs, and disposed to utterly benign mood. The massacre, that took place here just a couple hours ago, was gradually going into the past. Maybe women were grieving for those killed bandits, but they did not show it. Some of them cared more about children, others were anxiously thinking about tomorrow.

Max watched how Kira fed her daughter, put her to sleep and started preparation to lie down next to her. When she happened to glance at him, Max beckoned her with a nod and pointed to the bench by the fireplace, where he was sitting. Kira silently obeyed.

“Has somebody said here first of the girls had been abducted two years ago?” The mercenary asked quietly, that no one would hear.

“And what?”

“Your little girl is about four years old.”

“And what is the matter?” Kira shrugged with an ill-concealed anxiety.

“I suppose you were not abducted.”

The girl was silent for a few seconds, and then said very quietly:

“Yes, I joined them by myself.”

“So I thought.” Max nodded.

“And what did you think?” She said quietly, but angrily. “Maybe, did you think, that my settlement, including Linda’s father, had died out because of some kind of infection? Maybe, did you think, that I absolutely had nowhere to go with a two-year child in my hands of the middle of a snowy wilderness?”

“Don’t make excuses” the mercenary replied calmly. “I'm not going to judge you. I'm a murderer, just like you. I kill others in order to survive himself. By the way, you chose a beautiful name for your little daughter. Good night, Kira. We would have more time for ... communication.”

He got up from the bench and went into another room, where Styx and Gray were already sleeping on the floor, adapted removed from the walls rugs as beds.

The robbers were living in luxury, Max noticed to himself, taking the last rug. Before going to sleep, he propped up a door to the room with a chair so that it could not be opened silently, and put a pistol under his pillow. You never know what may be. He was not afraid of Satan or Wild boar’s people, knowing their reputation, but Kira the thug might play a trick.

It was about seven hours till dawn. There will be guard changing after four hours. According to an agreement between the leaders of the mercenaries, guards’ party was including one person from each team. And Styx would take Raven’s place. And he, Max, would be in a calm and sweet sleep. Really, being a leader is very great sometimes.

But sleep did not want to come. There was one problem that disturbed him. Kira.

Just two hours ago Max saw her face for the first time, and that was enough to cause a short circuit in his brain. An experienced mercenary, who smelled too much of gunpowder and blood; he was much too cynical to take a sober view of things. He could not deceive himself with a nice phrase "love at first sight", and in his life he has also seen prettier women than Kira. But there was something unique in this woman. And that’s why she immediately sunk into Max soul.

He had no intention of giving Kira to any of the Plant’s community, but it was easier to think than to do. The factor, that made the girl to be an obedient plaything for Max, was a double-edged sword. Power over the girl was only valid within the Plant’s borders. This situation has turned to be a paradoxical to the absurdity - if the mercenary keeps Kira for himself, then he would lose control over her, and would have a great risk for his own life. He had no idea what she would do if they stay together out of the settlement. If she does not like him – well, Kira would kill him sooner or later. This devil’s creature is unlikely to submit herself to an unpleasant man, and if she is forced to do it – the girl would take vengeance for her humiliation at the first opportunity.

The conclusion was only one. He should get her in the village, but he must reserve the rights to her for himself. And that was another thing, what was easier to think about than to do, considering that people in the settlement do not really like him, the same as all mercenaries.

 

Max rolled on the side. “Wake up, idiot, - he said to himself, - you have no more than three months in reserve, or maybe only two, and then you would put the barrel in your mouth and you’re your brains out. You do not have time for girls, you need money to snatch some more of this damned life. Your stock of worthless ersatz-serum was finished this morning and now you have to think about where to get a few more doses to live out these worthless two or three months. And the result is still going to be only one.”

Mercenary fetched a sigh. And suddenly it seemed to him that tension, fear and viscous expectation of death left him with this sigh. And instead of all these things, what were parts of his life’s endless nightmare, bright and clear plan of action came into his mind. Max determined that Kira would be his, no matter what. And it was unimportant how he would do it and how much he would pay for it. No price could be too high for the one, who have only few months left for living. "After us - the deluge" a long time ago one king said. And Max Shrike decided to act the same way. Kingly.

 

Chapter 2. Duel

 

Next morning was warm: ten below zero, or even less, so that you can do without the fur masks. Max, standing near the house, what was used as a storehouse, observed how couple of Plant’s guys were dragging out boxes and bales and were loading them into a sleigh.

Six sleighs, cheerfully dragged by horned bulls, came with guards and a doctor at an unearthly time. However there was no job for the doctor: both injured Plant’s men died the day before, just few minutes after the fight, joining seventeen comrades, who were more fortunate - they were killed on the spot. So the venerable doctor only examined women and children and received evidence that they were all healthy and can be let into the village.

The mercenary noticed a familiar face at the storehouse and went to say hello. It was Victor Kreytsman - quartermaster and accountant, sly guy, but honest, without complexes and stereotypes about those people, such as Max.

“Hi, Shrike.” Kreytsman waved in response to Max’s greeting. “How everything was here? Ushinsky raised a clamor yesterday: according to his words, you were sitting out in shelters, while they were going staunchly to the guns.”

“Why am I not surprised? The Plant's band and Ushinsky really did not do anything, except being targets. While Wild Boar was covering us with fire, I with my team and Satanists stormed the hill. And actually I was the one, who neutralized the gun.”

 “Yes, I thought something like this” Victor snorted. “I have to tell, I was disappointed to see again that son of a bitch. If someone deserves to die the first, it’s Ushinsky.”

“ Is there anything interesting?” Max asked, glancing at the list of seized property, which the quartermaster was making.

“Only bullshit. Mostly food and clothing. Few cartridges.”

“Our is tenth part of the spoil.” The mercenary reminded. “And, I think, we will take the cartridges.”

In general, the operation was very well for Shrike’s team - they made only forty-three shots, while the captured ammunitions, honestly divided by Satan for all participants of battle, except Plant’s people, covered flow for more than five times. Plus advance, plus a part of the booty, plus fee. So it became a decent amount - just right sum to start a small war or simply have a good revel.

“Shrike, do you know the latest news? Wastelander showed up at the University again. It is said, he came from the south-east from Moscow side, brought a few odd bottles and records, got a good profit and moved back. If you believe the rumors, he was beyond Moscow for about two hundred kilometers.

“Lies,” Max waved his hand. “It is about seven hundred kilometers, on it’s impossible to go so far alone. You would just be eaten by hungers or someone else.

“ So, if it is a lie – when what is the source of his wealth?” The quartermaster asked rhetorically.

“And is he really rich?” The mercenary was surprised.

“Very much. They say he uses a VSS Vintorez and does not count cartridges. And does not use weapons with cheaper ammunition.

 

Max snorted distrustfully. In fact, that someone could use such weapon as Vintorez in everyday life, he believed even less. Just a couple of clips to that rifle cost as much as all of his earnings in this raid. And if the much talked-about Wastelander does have plenty of ammunition of this rare caliber, it means that there is a very serious power behind him. Perhaps it’s the University. Or even the Metropolis.

“I wonder if he really makes raids to Moscow.” The mercenary said aloud. “What side does he skirt place of the First Misfortune? From the North or South?”

Vic grinned from ear to ear, already anticipating beforehand the effect of his words, and said:

“You did not guess. He does not skirt it. Always goes straight.”

Max laughed loudly and slapped his friend on the shoulder:

“Ha, I saw through you! Come on, at least make your lies believable! I was already beginning to believe that he goes alone to Moscow with Vintorez, but straight…? Sorry, old fellow, I do not believe it.

“Well, do not,” he was offended and returned to making out the list.

The mercenary has moved to the sleigh, where women have already started loading their simple baggage, but turned around:

“Listen, Vic, where did you get that news from? Just yesterday I was in your settlement pub and heard nothing of the sort.”

“So, a caravan came exactly three hours later when you left into the raid. From the University.”

At this moment a commander of a newly arrived group came through the door of the storehouse. He smiled broadly, carrying a transparent bag with some papers inside. As he was passing Max, the mercenary called him:

“Dude, so are we here for the sake of these papers?”

“Exactly.” He nodded. “Well, all the rest just covered the cost of your employment and assistance to families of the fallen.”

Interesting. So, Victor does not lie about what it’s possible to go into the deepest raid into a godforsaken place, and all for a few bottles with something unknowing and old papers.

The fact that the University often hired experienced professionals for trips, whose purpose was to get books and documents, Max knew before. He knew that the payment of such workers - above all praise. One can only guess, how much a record brought from destroyed Moscow costs. Only the University and the distant Metropolis can afford the cost of the expedition, consisting of several tens of people. And just think: this whole incredible profit went to only one person, unless Wastelander did not sell too cheap.

The mercenary closed his eyes. Five hundred kilometers straight out from the University to Moscow. Thirty kilometers per day, including unforeseen circumstances, snow blizzards, extreme frost, and searches for shelter for the night. About seventeen days. If you push harder, you can manage in two weeks. If you are lucky with the weather, and you do not meet other obstacles, even less, about twelve days. The same time for road back. So, four weeks. Five or six days more to get a passing caravan to the University, to find someone to negotiate payment and arrange a hike. It turns out a little more than a month. Still a lot of time would be spent in Moscow itself - Max is not so naive to expect to find the wanted loot at once. Maybe he would not find anything, but it’s better not to think about such possibility. So, only road would take about thirty-three or thirty-five days. And for everything else, including Kira, stay in Moscow and the search for serum for next two months, he has about ten-twenty days in reserve.

Well. All he need it is only three miracles. Getting to Moscow alive, finding something that the customer will require and returning back. And if these three miracles happen ... Then he, Max, known as Shrike, would live. Not two or three months, but eight or nine, or maybe even a year. Because he will be able to buy a good, high quality serum, a real medicine, not that slow poison, what is now flowing in his veins. Although even with a good serum the result will be the same - the barrel in his mouth and his finger on the trigger.

The mercenary took a deep breath. A man essentially is such a petty thing. When he has only two months left, he begins to cling to the most insignificant chance to live a bit longer, knowing that he just delays the inevitable for just a little time. Although ... if you think about, it may be, in fact, a merit, and not a flaw. Only this uncompromising, irrepressible will to live has allowed humanity to survive after eighty-eight years after the Doomsday, and some, selected individual homo sapiens, who drink too much, to dream about the day when he, Homo sapiens, regain his world back.

Max smiled sadly. The biggest joke of humanity – it is how it called itself. Homo sapiens. If you recall the story of how people after the first two fatalities - Meteorite and Epidemics - have created a Third - a nuclear catastrophe - it becomes clear that the second word in the scientific name of the humans – is unnecessary.

He lifted up his head and looked at the dim light spot of the sun hidden by leaden clouds. Max saw the star of day just once in his life, in his childhood - and remembered it forever. Blindingly bright light, an embodiment of life and all that beauty, what happens in this life, flooded all around - snow, miserable huts of the village, people's faces ... Max’s father cried, staring at the sun and the rays of light transformed his tears into pearls. Then the little Maxim thought that it’s painful for dad, the same as for him, to look at the bright spot in the sky dad. Many years later, he realized that his father was not crying because of pain. It was anguish for ruined world and for lost right to see the Sun every day, but not once in a lifetime.

And the world around was shining and sparkling like a paradise. Snow, a fortified wall, a toy soldier in the hands of a boy - all shone with a strong inner light, so it seemed to little Maxim. His eyes, accustomed to the world of gloomy days and impenetrable night, were watering, unable to stand bright light. But he screwed up his eyes for a moment, wiped tears and looked around again, realizing that this miracle probably he would not see again.

The mercenary shook his head, driving melancholy away. Humans once lived in a beautiful, bright world, but after the first two Misfortunes made the mistake: in despair they touched the forbidden button, the existence of which was also a mistake. No one will never know why people, who lived far away beyond the ocean, destroyed themselves by their own nuclear missile, turning the whole continent into the black, scorched earth, and plunging the rest of the world into the power of infinite nuclear twilights and eternal leaden clouds. The madman who pressed the button, became the greatest villain in the history of mankind: he managed to deprive the sun itself from people.

Next two hours Max spent deep in thought, sitting on a woodpile behind the house. He needed to be alone and reflect, in order to take one of the hardest decisions. Actually, he had the only two options. He could go to Moscow in order to try to live a little longer than two months, and, most likely, die there, not even reaching the goal. Or he could just live the remaining two months for his pleasure. The fate itself was pushing him to the second decision, just by sending him almost perfect woman in his absolute disposal, and a good salary, what he could use to live two months freely.

It was, however, two unpleasant moments, what could significantly poisoned the last days of Max. The first was Kira: if he can win the girl without resorting to banal blackmail, the last few days for him would be sweeter than honey. If not – he will have to use his power openly, and Kira’s contempt will be a big spoon of tar in his cup with honey. Max, however, don’t know, what is “tar”, mentioned in the famous proverb, but he suspected that the honey mixed with it, most likely, not very delicious thing. And therefore he relied on his charm, which has repeatedly helped him to obtain more profitable contracts and extricate himself.

The second unpleasant moment - an understanding that his last two months of life would be more dear, and then, it would be more difficult to pull the trigger when his time expires.

Still in the brooding, Max returned to the yard and noticed that Kira came into the house to pick up the girl. Looking around, he became convinced that no one was watching at him, and went after the woman.

Kira glanced back sharply, when she heard, that someone had come after her, and when she saw him, stepped back, leaning on the log wall of the hallway.

Max stepped to her and noticed how girl’s fists clenched and she gritted her teeth. The desire to move the knee to his groin, to take away his rifle and to kill, was clearly written on her face. The eyes glowered at him - with acute hostility, aggravated by understanding of her complete helplessness. Linda, who was sleeping in another room, made her mother to be a hostage of situation, a plaything in Srike’s hands.

Max felt annoyed. Why is so much hatred in her eyes? Above average heigth, strong, blue-eyed, not a freak – he was liked by other women.

 “Kira, the question off the cuff. Was someone you like killed yesterday?”

“No,” she replied dully.

“In this case, it seemed to me that you have no reason to look at me like that. Did I do something bad to you? Of course, I am sorry for the blow by the butt, but there was no another way. I think you understand it.”

Kira grimaced with contempt:

“Did not do yet. But I think you are going. Is not it? And do not say that you saved me - you did it for yourself, so I owe you nothing! You have me under control, even in a figurative sense, and you are going to use it. Who are you, if not an ordinary rapist?”

“Well, the conversation came to a dead end. Actually, I’m here not for these things. Tell me what was in the folder, to get what all this mess started?  

Kira’s gaze lost prickliness at once, contempt changed to surprise: she had not expected such a turn.

“What folder?”

“The transparent bag with papers, which was stolen during your last raid. It was opened when I saw it today - so somebody of you has seen, what’s inside. Tell me what’s there?

“It’s ... it’s all because of it?” Her eyes opened wider.

“Yeah,” Shrike nodded. “Everything else was not worth even our fee.”

“Oh my God.” She shook her head. “If I knew that before, no one would even touch this stuff. None of this would have happened...

Max took Kira’s shoulders and turned to himself, looking into her eyes, and rapped out every word:

“Answer. What. Is. There. Inside.”

“Paper. Thirty sheets of old paper with meaningless words.”

“Unknown language?” Shrike specified.

“No. It is not a language at all. Letters of Latin alphabet and numbers, but words – they are neither English nor Latin.”

“So it’s a encryption. I see. Wait a minute, do you know Latin?

“A little bit. My father was a doctor from the University.”

Max thought for a moment. Old encryption, for what nearly thirty people – Plant’s people and robbers – died in five minutes. How much does it really cost?

He turned and walked out of the house. Closing the door, Max remarked:

“By the way, when I decided to take you alive, I did not know that you are a woman. I thought that you are a teenager. Take your daughter and go to the sleigh.”

Kira did not answer.

Outside, Max immediately met his team.

“Crap news,” Styx grinned. “trophies, women, children and the dead will go on sleighs, and we’ll have to stomp. There is no space anymore.”

“Well, okay,” Shrike shrugged his shoulders. “For the first time?”

Soon the mini-caravan left the ruined nest of robbers. The bodies of bandits remained where they met death, and where they would lie many years in permafrost. Houses, maybe, someday would serve as shelters from the cold for someone else.

 

***

 

A few hours later they saw a bridge. Once cars went through it over the river, nowadays frozen, but even trade caravans were passing it rarely. Construction was not in very good condition, but the river’s banks were steep – you can go across the bridge, or make a big detour for about ten kilometers.

Max walked next to the very first sleigh, what was used to carry women. Freight transportation is poorly adapted for the people’s carriage, so the bottom of the sleigh was covered with carpets.  Passengers with children were put on them, carefully wrapped with blankets, taken from the houses. So, this impromptu transport was not very comfortable, but warm considering good weather. Shrike and his team stomped a little behind, sometimes joking with a drover, who led a shaggy bull-onehorn by the bridle. A little behind them three Plant’s men were walking – they were not from yesterday’s unfortunate ones. The commander appointed three of his best fighters, in addition to Shrike’s people, to the most valuable cargo. Trio were gossiping in an undertone about who among young people would be lucky to get wives, and  half-jokingly lamented that they already have wives, and bigamy is forbidden.

Max tried to catch Kira’s eyes, but she diligently was not looking at him, cradling Linda in her arms.

Everything turned out even worse than he expected. The girl did not even think to hide her dislike of him and made it clear: she will obey, if she has no choice, but he could expect nothing, only an even greater contempt. According to that, the option to march into the jaws of death seemed not so wild and crazy.

However, Max did not give up with his original plans about Kira. Whatever it was, he is the mercenary, and he must get a payment for that risk, what Shrike took by saving her life, instead of just doing her in according to the contract. Kira – is his trophy, and that’s all. However, Max had hoped for much more and now felt himself betrayed. Well, he would stay for a few days in the village, prepare for a long journey, which would probably be a last one for him, and go to meet his destiny. Shrike believed, that the girl would find a way if not forgive him but at least understand. But to understand the doomed is more complicated task than a soup plate, though.

He suddenly realized that now he has a much greater number of cartridges than he can carry out in his last campaign. The remainder of this universal currency he could leave to Kira. A former robber will not be too delicate in this matter - at least for the sake of her daughter.

They reached the beginning of the bridge, and suddenly the bull jibed. He did not want to go further, stopping in ten meters before the bridge, snorting, nervously wiggling ears and sniffing.

“What the hell?” Raven became alerted.

“I have no idea,” said the drover, “Guess he sensed something. Keep your eyes open.”

Kira and the other women started to whisper anxiously. One of the guards gave the go-ahead, and people all along the caravan began to occupy defensive positions near the sleighs.

Max threw a quick glance at Kira, and at this moment a heart-rending cry came from behind:

“The hungers!”

Air blew up with gun fire and screams of terrified people.

Shrike distorted a shutter adding cartridge, and turned around. Three nightmare creatures leaped out of the snow in twenty meters from the side of the well-trodden road, and, hunching over, rushed straight at him and the sleigh with women.

The Hunger personified all the most terrible, frightening and disgusting. Tall, weighing about quintal, they were a parody of the primates, which Max had seen in books and old movies, with grotesque red-brown bodies and limbs, armed with crescent-shaped claws, with mouths from ear to ear full of small sharp teeth – it seems that they came from madman’s nightmares. They were rapid and ruthless predators, possessing supernatural resistance to firearms.  Max has often heard stories of very large monsters dragging their prey away under the fire of tens of barrels or large-caliber machine gun. Of course, that had a lot of fiction, but the fact is: it’s more difficult to kill elder the hunger, which has more bullet marks on his skin. As one experienced old stalker said, if only the half of ten bullets, you fired into a creature, ricochet on the purple carcass, covered with horny outgrowths - it will be great luck.

The case has gained, however, a nasty turn for the predators. Max had no idea why they came in cold places, such as here; they weakened and lost their rapidness. Long queues of many machine-guns crossed the fire on one of the Hungers, and the creature screamed, tumbled down over its head. Two others, reducing the distance, jumped at once, making a ten meters jump. The smaller one flew at someone near the second sleigh. And the largest of three appeared near Max in the blink of an eye. His men and the guards scattered in all directions, and Shrike dived forward, toward the Hunger, and rolled in the snow, so they missed each other: the creature landed in a place where the mercenary has been, but failed to hit.

Max jumped to his feet, shouldering arms, and suddenly realized that the transport with screaming with terror women was on the line of fire. And the Hunger, ignoring machine-guns aimed at him, stood on his hind legs and climbed on the sleigh, slowly choosing his victim. Blood-red eyes set on paralyzed by fear Kira.

“Not her! - the thought flashed through, more like a plea. - “Choose another one, but not her!” Max just froze with fear. Right now the creature will tear Kira to pieces. His Kira! Guards, bastards, why do you not fire?

Deeply in his mind he understood why. The huge Hunger is just a walking ricochet. If you open fire – not only one woman will die, much more. And the only proper, rational decision, what was seen by Max’s men and by experienced security guards, was allowing the predator to catch its prey and run off to a side. And only then they would open fire. In this case there was a little chance that the victim will be liberated. And, which is more importantly, others would not suffer. So everything was right, from a statistical point of view of survival of the human species.

But Max Shrike did not share that view, and did not worry about stats. He worried about one very concrete woman.

One day, waiting for a start of his mission in a village near the University, he shared canned stewed meat with an old, badly scarred mercenary, who received the same contract, together with Max, but was without means. And after dinner the old man shared his experience in return.

 “Remember, sonny. These creatures are so powerful and fast that we can not vie with them. When the Hunger is chasing you and you do not have gun - you could not escape. He will catch you easily, and you would share the fate of all those who tried to escape from the Hungers. But the chance still exists. This creature has one weakness. It is a perfect machine of death; humans do not have a chance against it. And this is the weakness of the Hunger. And it’s your hope.”

 “How?” Max did not understand.

“It’s simple. People can not compete with these creatures, and therefore they run. Run, even if they know, that there is no chance to run away from the Hunger. They are caught and torn to pieces, and they still yell and still try to escape. And because of that the vast majority of the Hunger simply do not know what the resistance is.” The old mercenary inhaled hand-rolled cigarette and said: “If you are ever chased by the Hungry, and if you have no gun, you’ll have a chance to escape. But for this you need to do three most difficult things in your life. First - stop running, stay still. Second - to turn around to face the Hunger. And be the first who attacks. And then everything will be much easier. Remember! Just three steps: stop, turn around to attack first.”

“What’s the use?” Max snorted incredulously. “It’s all useless against his speed and reactions. What could someone do about it?”

 “Look at me,” the old man smiled and pointed to his scars. “When the Hunger came closer to me, I had only a knife in one hand and a stone in another. It was only a hundred meters to a bunker, but I did not run. I could not reach it anyway. What happened next, I remember very badly. But, as you see, I’m here - how many can boast that they have defended their lives against the Hunger in the melee? That’s true. So, sonny, remember. If you can not even imagine that will be able to defend - your enemy is also unable to do it. Hit first - he will be taken aback. And you will get a chance, if you overcome your own fear and fight till the end. Don’t think how to survive - think about how to kill. And then the Hunger will give up.

That conversation immediately arose in Max’s mind, when he saw the monster pulling sharp-clawed paw to Kira. He was too weak to grab and carry away an adult woman: frost, what the Hungers are not used to, did its job. But it could easily grab a child. And if year-old kids – is meager dinner for two-legged monster, four-year Linda is enough one. The woman screamed in horror, covered a daughter and kicked the predator. At this moment, always cool and sober-minded mercenary, who kept self-control even in the most difficult cases, felt that he was overflowed with anger.

“Now I’ll show you, damn it!” Shrike did not even notice that cried aloud his thought.

He rushed forward to the sleigh, not hearing warning cries of Raven, and found himself behind the Hunger at the moment, when he grabbed Kira’s coat by claws. Shooting at close range - was madness, and Max hit on the hunched, crooked back by his butt with all forces. The plastic buttstock broke with a crunch. The creature hissed, left the girl, and turned around quickly. The second hit by a muzzle came on the Hungry’s snout, cutting skin and knocking it back. Dark red blood spurted on Kira.

At that moment, the bull lost his composure, and he rushed forward to the bridge not looking at the road. The women scattered in all directions, falling from the sleigh into the snow. Kira again kicked on the Hungry’s head and immediately rolled down, protecting crying Linda from hitting.

Now the right thing would be to jump down after her, but Max continued to hit, putting in every blow all his hatred for this living nightmare. The Hunger, lying on his back, pushed the man in the chest with his foot in return, and only thick warm clothes saved the mercenary from terrible wounds. Max miraculously stayed in the sleigh, what was already rushing across the bridge, and realized that it was too late to jump – he could slip on the ice down to the frozen river. The predator was already on his feet, barely keeping a balance, and brought down upon him a crushing blow. Max blocked the attack by machine-gun and felt that the irresistible force wrested weapon from his hands. In the next moment the Hungry leaned all his weight upon him and prepared to begin to tear. But Shrike pushed off by his foot and rolled down from the rushing at full speed sleigh on the bridge in the arms of the predator.

The world turned upside down, then there was a blow through rusted railings, crash of breaking rods, his hand in glove caught on the edge of the bridge, but could not withstand the additional weight of the Hunger - the creature did not want to fall on the ice alone. The world began to spin even more, and then Max felt a monstrous blow, and heard a nasty crunch. The body was pierced by pain.

“I’m going to kill you, bastard, I will kill you!” He wheezed and reached for the knife.

He collapsed from the tem meters high bridge on the ice. More precisely, the Hunger collapsed on the ice, and Max was on top. Whose bones crunched - that was a question. The main thing now was to roll away to the side, avoiding the deadly embrace, and to get to his feet faster than the enemy. Otherwise – it’s going to be the end.

They got up at the same time, giving each other piercing looks with promises of a quick, but painful death. Shrike’s fingers closed upon the handle of his “old comrade”. The man and the monster stood for a moment - two implacable, mortal enemies. The prey and the predator. The victim and the murderer. And then the man, using his only chance in this unequal battle, attacked first.

After the fall the Hunger damaged his legs, and now he had to lean on his ugly long arm. Max, limping, rushed at him, went away from the counter attack in a lightning pirouette, and stabbed the knife into the monster’s side. The Hungry screamed, and struck again, but the man quickly dodged, escaped with only the unpicked clothes and punched hard by boot to the enemy’s knee.

After that a rapid exchange of attacks and counterattacks followed. Man-eater has lost the ability to use his usual manner of attack - to knock the victim after a jump, lean all his weight upon it and tear. And due to that Max saw an opportunity to win. He moved much faster than the monster expected. And the Hunger, weakened by cold weather, was slower than usually.

The predator rushed forward again, aiming claws at Max’s face, but Shrike quickly moved away, causing the Hungry to lose balance and fall down. And then swung his leg and kicked in the hateful, dreadful snout. Then once again. And again.

During the fourth hit the hunger could pick trouser leg by claw and overturned Max on the ice, but already in the next moment the man rolled over, away from the fierce attack. The crescent-shaped claws ripped only ice.

The predator attacked again and again, however, the mercenary remained inaccessible, breaking a distance between them or quickly dodging. After one of the clawed paws’ strokes, Max found himself behind and at the side of the Hunger, and with all his might he drove the knife into his back. The man caught extending to him paw, deployed the enemy to him and struck again, this time in the stomach from the bottom up.

 

“Well, how do you like to fight on equal, stinker? This is not the same as a torment of helpless victim, isn’t it?”

The monster fell down on his knees, clutching Max’s jacket with the second limb. And Shrike leaned upon him with all his weight, knocking the monster on his back. Holding deadly paw with his left hand, Max was dealing a blow after blow with the right hand. He was acting with Berserker’s fury, shredding unyielding skin, splintering bones and making mincemeat of the creature’s inside.

At some moment the picture of the battle became unreal and phantasmagoric. The man did not writhe in the deadly embrace of the Hunger, but the predator was on a place of his previous victims. His resistance was messy, but reflexes and instincts forced fatally wounded creature to twitch in unsuccessful attempts to catch his tormentor.

But now the knife struck again the brown hairless skin, and stayed there. From head to toe smeared with blood, Shrike leaned upon the shredded body of the Hungry and caught a dying glance of his red, with vertical pupils, eyes.

 “Damn spineless slug,” Max wheezed, adding all his boundless hatred to these words. “You had to beat your brains out yourself, while you were able to do it!”

He did not remember how someone lifted him up from the corpse and carried back. How someone cut off his blood-stained clothes and wash his face with alcohol. How he was wrapped in a blanket and gently laid on the sleigh. Someone has injected him morphine, and all the way to the village Max felt just aching pain throughout the body, and that his head was resting in someone’s lap. However, the mist of a drug did not prevent him to guess whose lap.