The Gigahruschevka Sun

On the way back through the long concrete corridors and shabby staircases, Andrei thought about who he had just met and what he had been offered. At home, sitting again on the sofa, he remembered Mikhail's face (and disgusting smell) and Elena's warnings. This man did not inspire any trust, and Andrei even had the thought of writing a message through the home terminal that he had changed his mind. However, after going through his missing son's notebooks again, looking through every crevice in the house and finding nothing to help, Andrei wrote to the other person. In a short message to his boss-brigadier he complained about the sudden illness and asked for one-maximum two days off to recuperate. After only ten minutes the answer came back - Andrei, being a responsible worker, had no problem granting the request. He prepared his things, went to get an additional portion of concentrate and, coming back, began to think again about what he was about to get into.

Unbeknownst to himself, he fell asleep and had nightmares about his son, his wife, monsters, and a new man who smelled of booze even in his dreams. Dusty corridors and staircases stretched to infinity when Kolya's image loomed ahead and seemed to shorten when ugly monsters appeared behind.

"What do you want?" - Mikhail growled in his ear, a figment of his imagination. - "Why did you come here?"

Shuddering from the fear experienced in the dream, Andrei woke up. The electronic dial showed half past six. The following minutes and hours stretched unbearably long - he quickly did everything necessary, double-checked his bag and waited for his guest. When the clock showed two minutes to eight, Andrei, despite the expectation, shuddered with surprise. With excitement in his soul he opened the door and saw Mikhail standing in the corridor, who immediately gave him the smell of booze.

"Well, let me come in or what?"

The owner let the guest in and, looking at his back, allowed himself to smile - the drinker came, as promised, exactly twenty-four hours after their parting. That gave him some hope. When the lock clicked, Mikhail spoke again.

"Got the coupons ready?"

"Yes, of course. Over there on the dresser."

The guest glanced at the stack of papers on the table and reached into his bag. He took out a black pistol with a clip and handed it to Andrei.

" Ever used one?"

"No, never even held it in my hands."

"It's simple. You take the safety off," there was a click, "point it at the freak, pull the trigger, bam!" - he clicked the safety again and handed the gun to Andrei. - "Do it again."

He did the same manipulations.

"It's not loaded now." - continued the guest. - "When we get into the gray zone, I'll give you ammo. Where's your bag? Spit out whatever's in there, I need to see it."

Andrei was embarrassed, but followed the command. Soon all the contents of the bag were on the desk - a gas mask, two bottles of water, several packs and cans of food, a wrench, a flashlight and a work ID.

" That's fine. Put everything back, we're going out."

As Andrei put the stuff in the bag, slung it over his shoulder and walked to the door, he heard the final instructions.

" We're going to go to the lower floors now. We need to get to the three hundredth floor quickly. Always follow me, no questions asked. If they stop you or ask you anything, tell them we're going to see my electrician friend. You don't know him, okay? We'll find a way into the gray zone there. From there, we go to the church to the goddamn black gods. "Keep your eyes open, pay attention, but don't bat an eye."

"Got it, I'll try."

Mikhail, exuding the smell of booze, stood and thought about something for another ten seconds, then waved his hand.

" Let's go."

They left the cell and started their way into the gigahrushes. It was a good time for long walks - at this early hour, the shoes of thousands of workers walking to their places of work or service were shuffling and treading on the concrete floors. They all looked alike - tired faces, shabby clothes and lack of interest in passers-by. The numbers of cells, letters of blocks and floors flashed before his eyes. Andrei tried to understand which way they were going, but Mikhail had chosen a strange route and seemed ready to go in circles in other places. They came out to the elevator.

" Did you watch the news on the self-assembly? Isn't it dangerous in the elevator?" - Andrei inquired.

" We'll have a hard time taking the stairs," Mikhail rudely retorted.

A minute later the doors of the old elevator rattled open and the two entered a cramped space with painted walls. Mikhail clicked the bottom button and the steel box began its journey downward. In the light of the dim flickering lamp Andrei looked at the inscriptions and pictures on the doors. There he noticed familiar crosses and proclamations to those who had not yet believed in the Black God. He pointed to the pictures.

"These freaks are everywhere here," the guide said grudgingly. - "Vagrants, neighbors, shopkeepers. You may not even know that a person is a believer. Is this the first time you've seen one?"

"No, I've noticed it before, but I never paid attention."

"And you didn't try to convert them?"

"Once at work," Andrei remembered, "a colleague started some strange conversations. About gigahrusch, people here, the Black God. But I was not interested. And then he disappeared."

"Why isn't it interesting?"

" It's just silly," he went over images from the past in his head. - "Samosbor as a great entity. Black God, showing the way. There's something about the slime..."

" So the Chernobog is stupid, but the sky is not?" - Mikhail cast a skeptical glance.

To his shame, Andrei realized that he had not closed the curtains before letting his guest in.

" The sky is not that," he tried to justify himself and picked his words. - "It just sounds beautiful. That there is something beyond the gigahrusch that is. Beautiful. Blue. High. I don't know how to explain it."

"So you believe in getting out of the gigahrusch too?"

"Yes. I do," Andrei replied modestly. - "After all, everything has a way out, even..."

"Save your nonsense for the girls." Mikhail interrupted him.

They drove the rest of the way in silence. When the door opened, they went out into the corridor, which was no different from the one from which they had arrived. Only the floor number was different. For the next hour they wandered through the gigahurst, going lower and lower down the stairs and elevators. They met workers walking, drunks lying in corners, painted walls, running children and disgruntled old men who had miraculously lived to wrinkles and gray heads. Andrew looked at the inhabitants of the lower floors with fascination - they were different in some way, but he could not understand what it was. But he noticed another characteristic feature. There were posters everywhere about recruitment to the liquidators. Andrei even thought of tearing off a picture of a grenade launcher from the wall, one of the two that was missing from his son's collection, but then he thought better of it.

Standing in another elevator, Andrei asked his escort.

"I see that the agitation of the liquidators is stronger here than on our floors."

"It's always like that."

" What's that?"

Mikhail swore rudely because he was forced to talk.

"Life is poorer on the border floors and blocks. For the possibility of extra rations or moving to a better block, many will take risks. Even liquidation. I used to live here myself. I was lucky to move here

"I see," Andrei said, shaking his head. - "It must not be safe here."

"You understand right," Mikhail continued gruffly. - "You're supposed to live in a great place."

"And I still dream of moving up," the man admitted. - "On the five hundredth or even the six hundredth. There, they say, khrushch better. And the people are better."

"Dream bigger," the man grumbled. - "Who are you to be moved there?"

"I'm nobody, actually."

"What do you do for a living?"

"Production line supervisor. At the pipe mill."

"Yeah?" - Mikhail suddenly became animated. - "What do you roll?"

"Pipes. Different sizes. Three, five, fifteen. Sometimes thirty, but it's rare."

"Water pipes, you mean?"

"Sure."

"The ones in the walls?"

"Yeah, you, me, everywhere."

Mikhail pondered his next words for a few seconds.

" Ever wondered where the water comes from and where it goes after use? And where does it even come from here?"

" From the water treatment plants, of course." - answered Andrei, expecting a trick. - "Between three hundred and thirtieth and three hundred and forty somewhere in block H should stand. And there is one more..."

" Have you been there?" - Mikhail interrupted.

"No, not once."

"Do you know anyone who has been there personally?"

"The foreman told us about the station." - He tried to remember the chief's stories. - "But I don't remember if he was there in person or not."

" That's what you think." - Mikhail said enigmatically. - "We have so many things that come from obscure places. Food, say. Or clothes. Where is it made? How are they made? From what...?"

Andrei thought to answer and opened his mouth, but the elevator shuddered and stopped noisily. His companion immediately left the cramped cabin and quickly continued on his way. They walked for another twenty minutes along the same type of corridors, which differed only in the paint on the walls and in other cases piles of garbage. When they came to another staircase leading downward, the guide stopped to listen to what was happening in the neighboring rooms. No one was around and only shuffling footsteps could be heard in the distance. Andrei held his breath from the sudden tension. Mikhail took two steps to the nearest technical door and, having made some manipulations with the doorknob, opened it.

"Come in!" - he whispered.

Andrei looked inside a small room with a bunch of pipes and valves.

" Come in, what are you standing there for?" - Mikhail angrily pushed him inside and went in himself. - "Are you an idiot? Listen to what you're told."

He again performed invisible for Andrei operations with the handle, apparently to lock it. Then he turned and went to the corner where there was a vertical riser with several pipes. He bent down and pushed aside a piece of furniture board that covered a hole in the floor.

"We're going to climb down the pipes now," Mikhail explained quietly. - "We have to go down about thirty meters. There will be a gray area. No talking, okay? If you want to ask something, tap him lightly on the shoulder. Or better yet, don't ask anything. Give me the gun."

Andrei took out a gun and handed it to the guide. He took a clip from his bag, defiantly inserted it inside and pulled the bolt.

"It's loaded now. Remember the safety?" - I nodded. - "You point it at me, I'll break your arm. Act on command only. Don't make up your own shit. Any questions? All right. When you come after me, you're gonna have to close the sheet. Put it right here."

With that, he adjusted his bag, grabbed the pipe, and put his foot on something below the floor. With an agility unusual for a hard drinker, he disappeared into the dark hole. Andrei looked at the gun, thought for a moment, put it away in his bag and followed the guide.

Going downstairs in the dark seemed like an eternity - muscles unused to such a load soon began to whimper, fingers creaked from the strain and constantly tried to slip, knees banged against protruding valves and small pipes, and Andrei could not find a new footing under him - he had to feel the space beneath him with his shoe for a long time to find a place to put his foot. Whenever the awkward man became a source of sound in this cramped space, a dissatisfied whisper was heard from below. Andrei could not make out specific words, but, judging from his experience with Mikhail, the latter was showering him with select insults. Apparently, the guide had repeatedly traveled down this illegal artery, because he quickly found himself at the bottom, and almost silently.

When Andrei felt the floor under his feet, his entire back was wet, salty drops rolled down his face, and his fingers refused to stretch normally. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and quietly turned to the guide, who was waiting for him in the dim light of the lantern:

"What a descent!" - He tried to catch his breath. - "Shall we go back here too?"

"Yes," he said, even in such a short answer he managed to put his displeasure into it.

"Isn't there an easier way? How about the stairs? I can't take it twice."

"You won't need a second time. Up is always easier than down, so don't whine. Where's the gun?"

Andrei opened the flap on the bag, showing the handle sticking out of the side pocket. Mikhail nodded.

"You have to walk quietly here. Don't use your flashlight, just follow me. If we hear voices, footsteps, we turn everything off and wait. I'll let you know what to do with a gesture. You rested?"

Despite the fact that his breathing had not yet fully recovered, and his hands were shaking from fatigue, he nodded. Mikhail clicked the lock, the door of the technical room opened and they stepped out into the corridor.

Excitement overwhelmed Andrei - it seemed it was necessary to control every movement of his foot to rearrange his boots, and every breath. In the semi-darkness he quickly followed his guide, wondering how he navigated the rooms. There was desolation everywhere - it was still the same concrete corridors with patches of doors on either side, but the details of the inhabited space were missing. The cell numbers on the doors were obliterated, the wires on the walls were torn, the covers of the electrical panels were torn off in places, and most frightening of all were the dark stains on the walls, floor, and sometimes ceiling. Their nature could not be determined in this light, but Andrei knew for sure that they did not promise anything good - it was either stale blood or traces of self-selection. Thinking of the latter, he swallowed dryly.

After a moment's thought, he caught up with the guide and tapped him on the shoulder. Mikhail turned to Andrei - in the darkness his chopped profile, standing out against the lantern's glow, looked ominous.

"Che?" - he whispered roughly.

"I've been thinking," Andrei began uncertainly, "and if the self-collection starts, how will we know? And where to hide?"

" Are you an idiot?" - nodded the guide and continued moving.

Without unnecessary reminders, Andrei followed him, pressing his lips together with caustic resentment. He had never experienced such an attitude up there, but here he had to endure it.

They continued their silent journey through the abandoned floors of the gigahrusch, where people never lingered. For some reason the living space of the dormitory was not expanded in that direction, preferring to leave them uninhabited. Though, judging by the trash left behind and the drawings on the walls, there had once been a semblance of the kind of life lived on three hundred, four hundred, and so on. Just before the stairs they came to a place that made their stomachs churn with fear - there were bullet holes on the walls, bloody palm prints, and shell casings ringing underfoot. However, Mikhail paid no attention to this. He walked confidently along the floor as if nothing had changed. Only just before the stairs he stopped and whispered:

"On the stairs, watch where you step. There might be trash there."

Andrei hummed affirmatively and followed his guide. On a flight of stairs the light from the lantern became even dimmer and the whole world in front of Andrei's eyes turned into a black silhouette walking in front of him, surrounded by the same black lines of fences and steps against the background of a spot of light. Andrei was tempted to grab the handrail and instantly regretted it - the iron bar at the other end gave a loud bang that echoed up and down the flights. Mikhail stopped and turned to Andrei. His face was not visible, but there was obviously a grimace of hatred on it.

" Idiot..." - Mikhail whispered and accompanied the swear word with a profanity. - "You can hear us twenty floors away."

He turned off the flashlight and began to listen. Standing in the pitch darkness, Andrei also tried to make out anything in the distance, but soon realized that he could hear nothing but his own breathing and the throbbing in his temples. His sense of time was also dulled - how long they had been standing there on the stairs was unclear. At some point the lantern illuminated the stairs again and Mikhail silently resumed his journey.

Tense both physically and mentally Andrei soon felt fatigue in his legs, but to his luck somewhere fifteen floors below Mikhail left the stairs and entered one of the cells located on an unknown floor. When Andrew stepped inside, his escort silently closed the door and turned the lock. The light of the lantern became a little brighter.

"We'll rest here for about ten minutes," Mikhail explained, "and then we'll continue on our way."

Andrei nodded and sat down next to Mikhail on the couch, which was exactly like his own, except that the fabric was torn in places, and it was so hard that his body felt the springs against it. Andrei looked around the room and to his horror he noticed the symbols of the Black Gods on the wall.

" Look!" - he pointed his finger at the drawings.

" I've seen them a hundred times before," the man replied calmly. - "They go back and forth here, so don't be so surprised."

" A hundred times?" - repeated Andrei. - "Why so often?"

"I used to have to," Mikhail replied dryly, and Andrei did not dare to pry details of previous hikes from him.

Mikhail sat with a thoughtful look, looking at the floor in front of him. For several minutes he only sighed a few times and rubbed his head with disheveled hair. Then he pulled a bottle out of his bag, took a few sips and offered it to Andrei, but he refused.

"We're practically in their territory now, so be careful," Mikhail cautioned. - "We need to go down the next staircase. When you see light in the rooms, know we're their guest."

Hearing this, Andrei began to imagine what they would do then and realized to his horror that he had never once asked Mikhail about what specific actions they would take there, in the territory of the Black Gods.

"I've been thinking," Andrei began, "what are we going to do down there? How are we going to find Kolya and Sasha?"

" Their church is half of a housing block, plus some former production facilities. There are checkpoints at the entrances, but the Black Gods here are not afraid. We'll take the guards by surprise, stun them, and find a room for the believers."

" Where is that?"

Mikhail threw an incomprehensible look at his companion, thought for a while and said:

" We'll find out from the guards. Time to go."

They got up from the couch, dimmed the light of the lantern and left the cell. After walking down a long corridor, they turned, walked down another one and came to another staircase, which, however, was no different from the previous one. Feeling the tension in his legs, Andrei felt his muscles grow heavy and each new floor was more difficult than the last. Although he did not see or hear any signs of the presence of the Black Gods, the mere thought made him very nervous. He wanted very much to pull a pistol out of his bag, but his guide was walking with bare hands and there seemed to be no point in showing a weapon.

They reached the end of the stairs and even there Mikhail remained unarmed. He listened carefully to what was happening on the floor - from somewhere in the depths came the sounds of falling water drops and some other noise whose origin was unclear. The guide entered the floor and moved slowly past the ajar or open hermetic doors, which no longer needed to protect anyone. Reaching the twelfth cell, he stepped inside, illuminated the room, and moved into the kitchen. In the corner at floor level there was a hole half a meter in diameter. Mikhail bent down and listened again.

" We need to go to the next block."

Having said that, he got down on all fours and with the same amazing dexterity disappeared into the blackness. Feeling the growing excitement, Andrei fixed his bag, lowered himself to the floor and followed the man. It was a short crawlway, no more than a meter long. When he saw the boots of the man lighting the way, he allowed himself to smile. But just as he was about to stand up, something heavy fell on his head. The dim world before his eyes swam, swirling into a dark vortex, and soon he lost consciousness.