Dmitry Glukhovsky - METRO 2033 Artyom began to read the handwriting on the walls to pass the time. “I write because I am bored and so I dont go insane. Ive been sitting in this stall for three days already and I am afraid to go outside. I have seen ten people who were not able to run into the metro, they suffocated and are lying right in the middle of the street even now. Its good that I managed to read in the paper how to glue adhesive tape to the seams. I will wait until the wind carries the cloud away. They wrote that there wont be any more danger after a day. 9 July. I tried reaching the metro. Some kind of iron wall starts beyond the escalator. I wasnt able to lift it and no matter how much I beat on it, no one opened it. I started feeling really bad after ten minutes, so I came back here. There are many dead around. Everything is horrible, they are all swollen up and they smell. I broke the glass in a grocery stall and took the chocolate and mineral water. Now I wont starve to death. I have felt terribly weak. I have a safe full of dollars and roubles and nothing to do with them. Thats strange. It turns out they are only bits of paper. 10 July. They have continued bombing. An awful roar was heard all day to the right, from Prospect Mir. I thought no one was left, but yesterday a tank passed at a high speed. I wanted to run out and attract their attention, but I couldnt. I really miss Mom and Leva. Ive been throwing up all day. Later I fell asleep. 11 July. A horribly burnt man has passed by. I dont know where he has been hiding all this time. He was forever crying and wheezing. It was really awful. He went toward the metro, then I heard a loud bang. Most likely he was knocking on that wall, too. Then everything went quiet. Tomorrow Ill go take a look and see whether they opened it for him or nor.” A new blow shook the booth - the monster wasnt giving up on its catch. Artyom staggered and nearly fell on the dead body, barely able to hold himself up by grabbing onto the counter. Bending down, he waited another minute, then continued reading. “12 July. Im not able to leave. Im shivering, I dont understand whether I am sleeping or not. I was talking to Leva for an hour today and he said he will marry me soon. Then Mom arrived and her eyes were flowing. Then I was left alone again. Im so lonely. When it all ends, when will they rescue us? Some dogs are here and are eating the corpses. Finally, thank you. I have been throwing up. 13 July. Theres still some canned food, chocolate and mineral water, but I dont want it any more. Itll be another year before life returns to normal. The Great Patriotic War went on for 5 years. Nothing can be longer. Everything will be OK. They will find me. 14 July. I dont want it any more. I dont want it any more. Bury me the human way, I dont want to be in this damned iron box... Its cramped. Thanks for the Phenazepam. Good night.” Alongside was some more handwriting, but ever more incoherent and ragged, and drawings: imps, young girls in large hats or bows, human faces. “Obviously she was hoping that the nightmare that she survived would soon be over”, Artyom thought. “A year or two, and everything would come full circle, everything would be as it was before. Life would go on and everyone would forget about what had happened. How many years have passed since then? Mankind has only further distanced itself from returning to the surface during this time. Did she dream that only those who managed to get down into the metro would survive?”
Posted on: Fri, 10 Oct 2014 01:00:16 +0000
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