Journey to another world in the subway

Chapter 32 The Black Face
"Please...nitro...glycerin...in the bag...in the bottom...a grain...give me...I can't..." the old man pleaded intermittently, panting.

Su Mengfan fumbled into his pocket, and quickly found a package that looked brand new. He cut open the tinfoil package with his fingernails, and the pills jumped out, and he handed it to the old man.

The old man grinned guiltily and said, "I can't...my hands...don't listen to me...under my tongue..." Then, he closed his eyes again.

Su Mengfan looked at his dirty hands suspiciously, but still put the medicine ball into his mouth as the old man asked.

The old man nodded slightly and said nothing.

More and more escapees hurried past, but Su Mengfan could only see a row of dirty boots and shoes.

Someone stumbled on the black sleepers of the railway tracks, and a series of vicious curses came out of their mouths. No one paid attention to the three people on the side of the road.

The boy still sat there talking to himself.

Su Mengfan saw a passerby kick the boy hard, and the boy started howling louder, wiping his tears with his fist, and shaking from side to side.

Su Mengfan was very indifferent to this, even a little gloating.

At this time the old man also opened his eyes, sighed, and murmured, "Thank you very much...I feel better...Can you help me up?"

Su Mengfan supported the old man with his arms, and he tried to stand up.Su Mengfan put the gun on the other shoulder and picked up the old man's bag.

The old man staggered up to the boy and encouraged him to get up too.

The boy growled angrily, and when he saw Su Mengfan approaching, he hissed threateningly again, and saliva flowed out from his pursed lower lip.

"Look, I just came here to buy medicine," said the old man, "Really, I came here specially to buy medicine.

It's not available where we live, no one needs it or introduced it, I took my last pill on the way here.

At that time they didn't want us to go through the Pushkin station... Now there is the Fourth Reich there, I think it is a shame that there is a Fourth Reich at the Pushkin station!

I heard they even wanted to change the name there to 'Sitlerskaya Station' or 'Schillerovskaya Station'...but they didn't even know who Schiller was!

Come to think of it, they didn't want us to pass, and they made fun of our Vaniechka, my poor boy, what could he have done then?

I was so worried and had a heart problem that they let us through.What did I just say?
Oh, right!

You see, I also deliberately put the medicine in the innermost part of the bag, in case someone searches us.People may be misunderstood, not everyone knows what this drug is for...

Suddenly, the shooting begins!

I ran out as fast as I could, and I had to drag Vaniechka because he didn't want to leave when he saw the chicken skewers.

"It wasn't too bad at first, but I think it's going to get over it, and I don't need to bring out the medicines, which are worth as much as gold.

But then, I found that I couldn't take it, and when I was looking for medicine, I couldn't.

Vaniechka didn't understand anything, and I tried to teach him to give me medicine when I wasn't feeling well.

After teaching for a long time, he didn't understand. He either took the medicine by himself or gave me other things from the bag.

I said thank you to him, smiled at him, and he looked at me and smiled happily, and yelled happily...

God must not let me have an accident, otherwise no one will take care of him, I don't know what will happen to him! "

The old man kept talking, looking flatteringly into Su Mengfan's eyes.

Su Mengfan didn't know why she felt very embarrassed.

Even though the old man staggered forward with all his strength, Su Mengfan felt that he was going too slowly - everyone was passing them, and they looked like they would soon be the last.

Vaniechka walked awkwardly to the right of the old man, took his hand, and he regained his previous silent expression.

From time to time, he raised his right hand and pointed to the panicked escapees in the station or the things they dropped, and sometimes pointed to the growing darkness in front of him, screaming excitedly.

"Excuse me, young man, what's your name? We've been talking, but we haven't exchanged names yet. It looks like you've hurt your shoulder. Is it serious?" the old man said.

"My name is Alcorn Seanrich. The wound has healed, and there is nothing wrong." Su Mengfan changed the subject of the wound.

"Alcorn? Nice to meet you, my name is Mikhail Porfilevitch. Yes, Porfilevitch.

They called my father Porfiry, which is a rare name, you know.

He was also questioned by organizations in Soviet times, when there were more popular names - Vladilian or Stalin...

Where are you from?Smolensk Station?Well, Vaniechka and I came from Balikanaya station.I live there. "

The old man smiled awkwardly, "There used to be a house there, and that house was very tall, right next to the subway station... But you probably don't remember what the house looked like, do you?
You don't mind if I ask how old are you?However, this is not important. "

"I had a small two-room apartment on the upper floor of that building with a nice view of downtown.

It's not a big apartment, but you know, it's comfortable.

The floors were of course oak, and like all flats of the period, there was a gas fire.

God, what a comfort, a gas stove!But nobody wanted to use that thing at the time—they all wanted electricity.

As soon as you enter the house, you can see a reproduction of a Tintoretto painting, how beautiful!
The pillows and sheets on the bed were always clean and there was a desk with a bright lamp.

On top of that, I have a bookshelf that goes up to the ceiling.My father left me a lot of books, and I have a few in my collection.

Well, why am I telling you this?

You probably aren't interested in such nonsense from an old man...

But I still miss those things, especially the desk and the books, and lately the bed.

It's not that nice here, we used to have hand made wooden beds but now we just sleep on the floor with blankets.

But these are not important, the important thing is here," he pointed to his chest.

Then he continued: "What's inside is what matters.

Let your heart remain the same, regardless of what happened to him outside - I'm sorry to say dirty words.But you know that bed, it's special..."

He kept talking, and Su Mengfan listened with great interest, although he could fully imagine what it was like to live in a high-rise building, what the scenery was like, or what it was like to take the elevator.

Mikhail Porfilevich finally stopped to catch his breath, Su Mengfan decided to use his rest time to turn the conversation in a useful direction.

He had to talk about Pushkin Station to move the conversation to Chekhovskaya Station, and then to Metropolitan Station to find the Spartan Rangers.

"Is there really a Fourth Reich at Pushkin Station?" he asked.

"What did you say? The Fourth Reich? Ah, yes..." The old man sighed in confusion.

"Yes, yes, those skinheads with armbands, they are horrible. These signs are hung at the entrance of the station and everywhere in the station.

These signs used to mean Shameless - a sign with black words inside a red circle and a red line running diagonally through it.

I thought they had made a mistake and asked why the sign was there...they said it meant no one with a black face could enter.That's kind of idiotic. "

Hearing the "black-faced man", Su Mengfan turned to Mikhail Porfilevich and looked at him in fear.

Seriously asked: "Now there are black-faced people there too? Don't tell me they are already there!" Su Mengfan was very frightened.

How could this be?
He had only been in the tunnel for a week before the black-faced men attacked Pushkin station.

Was his mission a failure now?
Is he not likely to succeed?

Things haven't changed for the better?

Is all the hard work in vain?
No, not possible!
It could be a rumour, they probably twisted the truth, it could be a rumour, no?

But maybe it's all really over...

Mikhail Porfilevitch looked at him cautiously, took a step aside, and asked carefully: "You, I mean you, what do you believe in?"

"Me? Basically not." Su Mengfan hesitated, "What else?"

"And what do you think of other ethnic groups, like Caucasians?"

"What does Caucasian people have to do with this?" Su Mengfan was confused, "I don't know much about ethnic groups.

Where I used to live, there were French, Germans, Americans, but probably not anymore, and as for the Caucasians, I don’t know any of them. ’ he admitted awkwardly.

"The people called 'black-faced men' are Caucasians," Mikhail Porfilevich explained. He wanted to see if Su Mengfan was lying and deliberately pretended not to know.

"But if I remember correctly, Caucasians are ordinary people, right?" Su Mengfan said, "I saw a few here today..."

"Perfectly ordinary people!" Mikhail Porfilevitch answered him, "they were quite ordinary people, but the executioners felt that there was something different about them, and they persecuted them.

This is inhumane.Can you imagine?

There was a roof with hooks in their passage, and there was a man hanging from it, a real man.

Vaniechka was so excited when she saw it, poked him, and yelled, so the beasts began to pay attention to the boy. "

When the boy heard his name, he turned and stared at the old man.

Su Mengfan felt that the boy could hear and even understand part of their conversation, but his name was no longer mentioned.

The boy soon lost interest in Mikhail Porfilevitch and turned to the sleepers on the railroad tracks.

"As soon as the country is talked about I can see that they really adore Germany.

It was the Germans who created their faith after all, and you know what I'm going to say," said Mikhail Porfilevich quickly.

Although Su Mengfan didn't know, he still nodded, he didn't want to make himself look ignorant.

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(End of this chapter)