Work Text:
The veteran Ranger, Ilya, shoved the bag into her arms. "You're the recruit, you carry the things we'll need on the surface." It was mostly full of filters and ammunition, and Valya swore under her breath as she shouldered the pack. At least it was much lighter than the bags she used to carry back to Polis.
The other woman jogged over from behind, leaving a conversation with another recently returned stalker near the exit. "You've been to the surface, and I haven't, and yet you're the mule. Funny how things can turn out down here."
Valya shrugged, trying to recall the woman's name. She only heard it once earlier, where it was directed towards Ilya while she stood dutifully behind, listening more to the whirring of the fans in the vents than the discussion between the so-called veterans before her. "Funny indeed. You're Yelena, yes?"
The other woman nodded, adjusting the straps of her sniper rifle. Valya wondered if they would actually need such a weapon during this excursion. All the countless missions she had been on, stealth was the preferred method of travel, and if you got caught in a bad spot, it was better to be prepared for an all out firefight. At her own hip she had a silenced pistol, and an issued shotgun on her back after her own was lost on the surface some weeks earlier in her fight with the demon.
"That's right. It's nice to meet you at last. I heard about where they found you up there. It's impressive. To tell you the truth, I'm a little excited about what there is to see on the surface." She lowered her voice, careful not to invite Ilya into the conversation. He would most likely scold her for what she said.
Valya raised her eyebrows, gently running a hand across her abdomen. It was healed, for the most part, enough that she was fully prepared to fight need be. Still, the scar was not all the way formed, and it still felt strange to stretch her arms all the way above her head.
"There is plenty of excitement, but not too much of the good kind. The library was my favorite place to visit, but it's not the safest place to be. Do you know what exactly we're going to be doing today?"
They were no stalkers; Ilya wasn't, and neither was Yelena, so Valya couldn't imagine they would be scouring for resources. She didn't say it to Yelena, at least she wouldn't right now, but scrounging with a couple chaotic fellow stalkers was much more exciting than this would likely prove to be.
"I'm not entirely sure myself. They wanted to expose me to the surface at last, and I expect this is simply a part of your training. Not sure you need it, though."
Valya gave a closed smile, looking ahead as they neared the great hermetic door that led up to the surface from Polis, out to the square near the Great Library.
Ilya stopped and turned abruptly, holding his hands behind his back. He looked very serious and disciplined. Valya couldn't help but think back to the much more agreeable Rangers she spoke to while recuperating in the sick bay.
"We're going to go on a routine perimeter check. All the way out to the Church, and then back. It is broad daylight, so it will be more difficult. At this time of year, though, there are less creatures roaming about, so there should be little fighting expected. Death may come, and it will not come swiftly if it does."
Valya was unbothered by this statement. She had faced what the surface had to offer for nearly four years now—there was little that could shock her. Yelena, on the other hand, looked a bit paler as Valya glanced at her from the corner of her eye. There was no need to worry, she wanted to tell her. Things would turn out alright. They had to.
Ilya turned around once more without another word, and the guards near the door were given the signal to unseal it. It began slowly opening, the metal screeching along the concrete floor. The bustle of Polis behind them seemed to quiet in awe of the sight. Or perhaps in fear of what might come barreling through.
"Are you ready?" Yelena whispered to Valya as the group walked outside, ascending the escalator, the great hermetic door sealing shut behind them.
"I have to be," she whispered back, as quiet as she could while still being heard through her gas mask.
Ilya held up a hand, silencing them, and Valya readied herself for a fight. None came. She thought she heard the flapping of wings in the distance, but shook it off as paranoia. It was her first time on the surface since the attack on her and her late comrades, and she felt it in her nerves.
Nearly two hours later, Ilya finally allowed them a rest. They took refuge in a low, abandoned building, perhaps an old grocery store judging by its empty shelves. The veteran Ranger went off to another area of the store, unhooking his radio and making some inaudible call back to Polis.
Yelena and Valya sat in the other corner, on upended milk crates.
"What do you think of the surface now?" Valya asked, dropping the supply bag beside her, alongside her shotgun.
"I wish we were going to the library, for one. And something in me wishes we had faced a fight already. Maybe I should knock on wood for that one." She rapped a single knuckle against the side of the crate she sat on.
Valya laughed under her breath. "Well, that would make it more exciting than trudging along through the snow, unable to see too far ahead of us because our breath is freezing the air in front of our eyes. I wouldn't worry about the library, though. I know the place well, and if they send me up top soon, perhaps you can come along."
"I would like that. You know, I hardly—"
Ilya suddenly ran over, clamping a hand over Yelena's mouth. On instinct she moved to shove him off her, but when he put another finger to his own mouth, she settled. He removed his hand slowly and the three looked towards the front of the store. Outside, a small pack of nosalises roamed dangerously close.
Ilya unshouldered his rifle, and Valya followed suit, picking up her shotgun. Yelena had no choice but to unholster the pistol she'd been issued. It was three years since she joined the Rangers, and she still hadn't used it outside of the target range.
He crept forward around the shelves, back arched low as he kept an eye on the nosalis nearest the broken windows; if they moved on, they could safely leave in the other direction, but the pack was sniffing around far too long. It looked like it would be a fight.
His observations were confirmed when the nosalis closest to him suddenly threw its head back, its howl piercing the sky. The others followed suit, and Ilya and Valya took their distraction as an opportunity to pounce.
He opened fire, aiming for the ones furthest away, while she rolled to the side and shot at one running directly at her. The shotgun's blast threw it several yards away, but Valya had no time to examine her kill as she had to take down the next.
Yelena stayed behind them, holding her pistol at eye level. She was so distracted by the nosalises Valya was fighting that she didn't notice the one coming barreling towards her. It shoved Ilya aside with ease, though he had already fired more than a few shots into it.
Yelena fired at it, too, but it seemed only slightly fazed as it slammed her back into the ground. She put her feet up over her chest, like she used to do playing with her brother when they were both much younger. Driven by adrenaline, she pulled her knees back as far as she could without catching a claw to the face, and then extended her legs with all her might. The nosalis stumbled backwards, shaking itself off, preparing to run at her again when Valya put two shotgun shells full of pellets through its brain.
It was the last one. Yelena stayed on her back, staring with glazed eyes at the crumbling ceiling. Valya came to her side, putting out a hand to help her up, and she took it absentmindedly.
"Guess you got the fight you wanted," Valya said with a forced smile. Maybe it had been wrong to hope that she would never see another death on the surface—but she was lucky this time.
Yelena exhaled, wiping the blood from her gas mask, smearing it on the broken linoleum floor. "Guess so."
"Let's move. Those howls will have attracted more of these beasts." Ilya jerked his head towards the front windows and jogged back out into the street, heading in the opposite direction from where the nosalises came from.
Valya picked the bag off the ground and slung it around her shoulders, but kept her shotgun in her hands. It wasn't her favorite weapon to use—that would be none at all—but it was one of the most powerful things she could have on hand on the surface.
"It would have been more pleasant if I was higher up," Yelena commented, following Valya out towards Ilya. "Though I've yet to shoot a live target with this." She gestured to the sniper rifle over her shoulder. It was Spartan-issued, old and worn.
"It isn't too much harder than shooting the immobile targets, if they don't know you're there. Though I have more experience with a pistol than a rifle." The sniper rifle was too bulky, in Valya's opinion; the silenced pistol at her hip was more than enough while stealthing through some Moscow square.
"It smells different than I imagined it would," Yelena said after a moment's silence.
Valya laughed under her breath again. "How can you smell anything through that gas mask?"
"I can't, really, but it's almost as if you can taste the radiation. Perhaps it's just that you can feel it, seeping through. Nothing pleasant, either way."
"I think I know what you mean," Valya replied quietly, keeping an eye out towards the open areas around them. "I'd like to remember what it feels like to breathe fresh air again, someday." Wishful thinking, perhaps, but it was the only type of thinking she could have anymore.
Another handful of hours passed without incident. They got to the church, but stayed only briefly. No one was stationed inside at the moment, because it was too cold, but they went in and sat around a barrel fire for a few minutes nonetheless. To rid the gas masks of the fog and warm their aching fingers was enough of a rest.
Upon arriving back at Polis when the sun was far past set, Valya was tired, sore, and covered in grime. Yelena seemed to be in a similar state, but all three of them were in much better shape than Valya saw many stalkers return in, if they returned at all.
After what felt like several more hours—but what was more like half of one—of debriefing, and returning the supplies they'd brought with them, and thanking Ilya for accompanying them, Valya and Yelena found themselves alone in a bar at the heart of Polis. Not entirely alone—the usual drunkards were there, and some others celebrating staying alive for one more night, but the women were alone at their table.
The bartender brought around two glasses of mushroom vodka. Valya squeezed her eyes shut and took a swig, then set the glass back down on the table with a little bit more force than necessary.
"I hate this stuff."
Yelena swirled a finger around the lip of the glass. "I'm not fond of it either." She picked it up to take a sip then paused. "I just remembered what I was going to say before that nosalis picked me for lunch. I'm glad to see another woman joining the Rangers. It feels like there aren't enough women down in the metro as it is."
Valya downed the rest of the shallowly filled glass, coughing slightly as it went burning through her chest. "When you think about it, true. So far I've just met Anna, the colonel's daughter. And she's fairly young—perhaps just a bit younger than you, I suppose."
Yelena nodded, once again avoiding taking a sip of the vodka, toying with the cup in her hands. "I'm acquainted with her, seeing as we're both snipers. I expect she's been holding a gun since before she could walk, though."
"Probably true. Colonel Miller's a scary guy."
"You think so?"
"Nah." Valya leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. "He's been really nice to me, actually. As nice as someone like him can be. Are you gonna drink that?" She nodded to the mushroom vodka in front of Yelena.
Yelena shook her head. "Not really in the mood. You take it."
Valya pulled it across the table, swirling it around in the bottom of the glass for a moment before downing half of it. "Back in World War II, lots of our women fought. Lots of snipers. Scouts and surgeons like me. You know much about it?"
"What, the war?"
"Yeah. History. What brought you to the Rangers, anyway?"
Yelena leaned her elbows on the table. "Wanted to see the outside world again. I was only five when it all went down, but I used to spend all my time out there. Besides, I'm too restless just being a metro girl. How about you?"
Valya drank the rest, coughed once more, then slid the glasses away from her. That was far more than enough for tonight—for the rest of the week, really. She had no love of drinking or substances that put you out of your right mind in general. Sometimes you simply had to down something awful.
"Fair enough reasons. There's only so much you can do down here until you lose your mind, unless yours was already shallow to begin with…" She laughed lightly. "I was a stalker for a few years. You know the story of what happened to me a few weeks ago. It just sort of happened, and I'm grateful for it now. Stalking is dangerous. The Spartans feel safe."
"I understand what you mean. I find it fascinating that you have such knowledge of the surface already. All I have is theoretical knowledge, from my mother. I don't remember much."
"What does your mother do?"
"She was a biologist before the war. She taught me what she could, and she works on her projects now, right here in Polis."
"That's interesting." Valya wanted to ask about her father, but knew not to press. Almost everyone down here in the metro lost someone close to them—he might as well have died in the war nearly twenty years ago. "Are you very into biology?"
"More the natural side of it. I enjoy the outdoors. I miss forests that weren't blown to bits and crawling with irradiated monsters, but I think I'll take what I can get." She rolled her eyes. "What about you? Where did you learn what you know?"
"Both of my parents were doctors. I'm actually from Teatralnaya, a ways away. Some things happened and I became a stalker a handful of years back. Funny how things turn out around here."
Yelena knew not to ask about that, either. Strangers were not forthcoming in the metro—mistrust was common. And although they were now comrades, it would be a while before either of them could consider the other a friend, though they would have to trust each other fully to fight alongside one another.
"Funny is one word for it. Well," she sat up straight and cracked her back, "it is probably about time we head back and go to sleep. We had a long day, and they will not ease up on us tomorrow. Let's hope the rations are better this time."
Valya stood, cracking her knuckles, mirroring Yelena. "Maybe your mother should think about working on that, instead of whatever surely important project she's actually working on."
The women laughed to themselves, walking back towards the Rangers' barracks.
