"Artyom! Artyom! Get up! Hurry up! ”

The lamp in the Commander's hand shot straight through his eyelids and into his pupils. A strong hand grabbed his shoulder, and the other rubbed his bearded cheek vigorously.

Artyom opened his eyes slightly, touched his reddened cheeks, rolled from the single marching bed to the floor, and then immediately stood up straight and saluted.

"What about weapons? Grab the submachine gun and follow me! ”

Artyom, who had slept in his full uniform and jacket, grabbed his Kalashnikov gun from his bed and followed the commander sleepily.

How many hours did he sleep together?

One? Two?

His mind was a mess and his throat was dry.

"Start ......" crossed his shoulder, and the commander snorted in his face with a foul breath.

"What started?" He was frightened.

"You'll find out right away...... With this magazine, you'll be in for it. ”

Tula station is very spacious, there are no extra columns on the platform, like the beginning of a very wide tunnel.

In some places, the faint light is densely jumping, and their movement is unstructured and meaningless, like a light source in the hands of a child or a monkey.

It's just that how could there be monkeys here......

Now that he had woken up and forced himself to check his submachine gun, Artyom suddenly guessed what was going on.

Didn't hold on! Isn't it night?

At this moment two more soldiers rushed out of the soldier's room to join them, also sleepy-eyed.

An unusual, ominous scream suddenly rang out in the heavy, oxygen-deprived air.

Not a shout, not a wail, not a command signal......

It was the *** voice of hundreds of people intertwined, full of despair and panic. The sound was intertwined with the sound of iron grinding, and it came from two, three, ten places at the same time.

The platform was littered with soft and collapsed tents full of holes, collapsed sentry boxes for people to live in, assembled from sheet metal and iron sheets of subway trains, counters made of plywood, discarded bits and pieces......

The commander weaves through piles of garbage like an icebreaker sailing through ice.

Artyom and two others followed the path he had blazed trail.

In the darkness, truncated trains appeared on the road on the right: the lights in the two carriages had been extinguished, the open door openings were blocked by blockades, and the inside was ......

Behind the dark glass boiled, boiled, stewed a horrible crowd. Dozens of hands, clutching the rickety fence, shook desperately, and made the fence rumble.

Next to each passage stood soldiers in gas masks and armed with submachine guns, carrying the butts of their rifles, slowly walking towards the collapsed black doorway.

Elsewhere, on the contrary, the guards are doing everything in their power to quell the surging and angry sea of people trapped in tin boxes.

But can people trapped in the carriage think of anything else?

They were herded into the carriages because they had escaped from the special quarantine zone in the tunnels, and because they were more numerous, the number of infected people was already outnumbered by healthy people.

Actually, it's been a lot more.

The commander walked through the first carriage, then the second, and Artyom finally understood why they had come in a hurry.

At the last door, the cyst had ruptured, and strange creatures poured out of the carriage - they were struggling to stand on their legs, their faces unrecognizable from the swelling, their hands and legs bulging terribly.

No one had time to escape yet: all the machine gunners had already gathered at the door.

The commander broke through the encirclement and appeared at the front.

"I order all patients to return to their places at once!" He pulled out the Stephkin pistol holster from his waist. @*~~

The nearest infected struggled to lift his swollen head, weighing several podots, and licked his cracked lips.

"Why are you doing this to us?"

"You know, you're infected with an unknown virus. We are.

Looking for medication...... You have to be patient. ”

"You're looking for medicine." The patient repeated his words, "Ridiculous. ”

"Please get back to the carriage right away." The commander exaggerated the safety on the pistol and made it loud, "I'll count to ten, or I'll shoot." One ......".

"You just don't want to deprive us of hope, and think about how to control us before we die......"

"Two ......"

"It's been a day and a night and no one has brought us water. What's the point of feeding water to someone who is certain to die......"

"The guards were afraid to approach the gate, and two of them got infected like that. Three ......"

"The carriage was already full of corpses. We trample on other people's faces. Do you know the sound of your nose creaking? If it's a child, then ......"

"There is nowhere to put their bodies! We can't burn them with a single fire. Four ......"

"The carriage next door was even more crowded, with the dead next to the living, shoulder to shoulder."

"Five ......"

"Oh my God, don't shoot us! I also knew that there was no medicine at all, and I was going to die soon. I soon couldn't feel my internal organs being sanded on a huge piece of sandpaper and then sprayed with alcohol......"

"Six ......"

"It's still burning. @ It seems that there is a group of sisters living in my head, and they are greedy and devouring not only my brain, but also humanity, until all of me ...... A, a, click, click, click......"

"Seven!"

"Idiot! Let us out! Let's die as one! Why do you think you have the right to torture us like this! You know, maybe you've ...... yourself."

"Eight! It's all for safety reasons, for the sake of other people's survival. I'm ready to die, and as for you, you pestilence-stricken, don't even think of leaving here. Get ready! ”

Artem raised his submachine gun and aimed it at the nearest patient......

Oh my God, probably, it was a woman......

Her waistcoat was stained maroon with pus, and her equally swollen breasts towered underneath it.

He blinked and pointed the barrel of his gun at a staggering old man.

The crowd began to complain, first retreating in compromise, and then trying to squeeze back into the doorway, but it couldn't be done anymore - new infected people were constantly crying and being forced out of the car by their own fresh pus.

"Tyrannoism...... See what you do?! You've been defending the living...... We're not zombies! ”

"Ten!" The commander's voice sank.

"Let us go!" A patient shouted with difficulty, stretched out his hands to the crowd, like the conductor of an orchestra, and could make the whole crowd ***, follow the command of his fingers to squeeze forward.

"Shoot!".