Kitabı oku: «Zombiegrad. A horror novel», sayfa 5
SEVEN
Ramses and Ksenia had grabbed their gear and jumped out of the car just in time before the tank rammed into it and crushed it like an empty beer can. The sound of metal scraping against metal was deafening. They ran down the stairs under the bridge. The tank rumbled above their heads without stopping. Then two more battle tanks followed.
“This city is a damn war zone,” Ramses said.
Ksenia’s face was pale. She did not believe they had just narrowly escaped from death. She just stood there, the freezing cold nibbling on her uncovered body parts.
Ramses shouldered the backpack. “We gotta haul ass to the hotel.”
Ksenia said nothing. Her body was trembling with cold. She nodded silently, and they started walking. They reached the river. The sun rays glinted on its snow-covered surface.
“The ice is still hard enough this time of the year,” Ksenia said. “We’ll get across safely.”
They started running across the river. Their legs got tangled in the snow, and Ksenia fell down twice. Ramses grunted heavily. The load on his shoulders was not too heavy, but he hated running. He was a fighter, not a runner. He remembered his days when he worked in a fire department. He used to carry heavy loads of hose during fire drills under the hot Californian sun. But running across a river on a winter morning with not many clothes on was extreme for him.
When they crossed the frozen river and came to a small supermarket, their feet were soaking wet. Ramses’s hair and eyebrows were covered with white frost.
“How much longer?” he asked Ksenia.
“The hotel is behind this supermarket,” Ksenia said. She started coughing.
“Let’s roll,” Ramses said, “or we’ll catch our death here.”
Or death will catch us, he thought gloomily.
He craned his neck around the corner of the building. A trash container was burning, and the black smoke blocked his vision. The stench of the burning trash reached his nostrils, and he fought to hold back the urge to throw up.
He was stunned by the sight. Through the curling smoke, he saw a large group of the undead moving toward them about three yards from them. He recoiled and made a gesture for Ksenia to halt.
“Step back!” he mouthed.
A male living dead staggered around the corner. Ramses hit the creature in the nose and knocked him off his feet. He didn’t have time to finish him, and they sprinted across the supermarket parking lot.
The monsters moaned loudly behind their backs. Other demonic creatures, which had been lurking in various places, crawled out and joined the sickening choir.
A female ghoul appeared from behind a stranded car. She tilted her head at a weird angle, staring at them and made a fast step forward, reaching her hands toward them. Ramses placed a bullet between her eyes. She fell on the ground with a heavy thump. Ramses jumped over her body without stopping. Ksenia was running behind him, panting. Her sweater was not much protection against the cold, which was burning her lungs.
They ran up to the street with paralyzed traffic. In the middle of the street, two deadheads got in their way. Ksenia shot a bullet and missed. Ramses fired and one ghoul collapsed like a bag of flour. Ramses relocated his gun to the other hand and pointed it at the next target. The shot knocked the creature down.
“Aim more accurately,” Ramses said to Ksenia. “You don’t want to become their breakfast.”
At this moment a corpse hiding under a car raised himself on his elbow and tried to bite Ramses’s ankle. Ksenia put the gun to the head of the dead man and squeezed the trigger. The head exploded like a rotten pumpkin.
“Lesson learned,” she said.
Ramses nodded and shifted the load on his shoulders.
When they finally got to the hotel, they saw that the front gates had been crushed. Crowds of moaning maniacs were roaming in the hotel yard. They were pounding on the closed doors.
“Damn!” Ramses said.
They were sitting behind an overturned car, their guns ready to spit fire. The morning sun was shining in the sky.
They saw a man wearing a brown overcoat moving toward them across the street. He was running, which meant he was alive. But he was shouting loudly and waving his hands, which was putting them all in danger. Which meant the killing creatures could get them sooner than later.
The man didn’t make it to them.
He slipped on the sidewalk and tumbled down. It took the swarm of the dead ten seconds to reach their prey and engulf him.
Ksenia looked away. Ramses looked at how the beasts feasted on the lying man, shredding his clothes with their claws.
The ghouls separated the man’s head from the body and started devouring his legs and arms, raging while having their breakfast and jerking their heads like hungry dogs over some chunks of beef.
“It’s hell on Earth here,” Ramses said, tightening his grip on his gun.
Ksenia hugged her elbows. She was shaking with fear and cold.
“Let’s run along the fence to the backyard,” she suggested.
At the back of the hotel, there was a small parking lot for employees. It was nearly empty, only four cars. Ramses took the backpack off his shoulders and threw it over the fence. It landed with a thump on the soft snow on the other side. He bent down, and Ksenia stepped on his back. She held the metal bars of the fence. Ramses stood up, and Ksenia shifted her position on his shoulders, pulling her body up and grabbing the edge of the fence. She thrust her body upwards and sat on the small column between the fence parts like on a horseback. She jumped down and looked around.
Ramses grabbed the bars and climbed over the fence.
There was a green armored cash-in-transit vehicle parked at the corner. They ran toward it.
An undead male appeared around the corner. He saw the humans and opened his slobbering mouth. A horde of the walking dead was catching up.
Ramses took out his gun and pointed at the coming crowd. “We ain’t gonna make it,” he said. “They’re too close, too soon.”
Ramses started firing. He was spending the rounds wisely, shooting only at the closest attackers.
A group of six creatures came staggering to the cash-in-transit vehicle. Eight shots, seven bodies down.
Ksenia heard dry clicks of her gun.
“I’m out,” she said.
Ramses gave her a magazine. “This is the last one. Let’s get to that van.”
Ksenia replaced the mag in her gun. She ran, slipped and fell to the ground. She winced in pain as she attempted to stand on her feet and fell again. A reanimated corpse was walking slowly toward the place where she was lying.
Ramses used his leg to sweep the monster and pressed him to the ground with his knee. He took the wriggling dead thing’s head in his hands and snapped its neck. The wild red eyes of the monster stopped moving in their sockets. Ramses bashed the corpse’s head against the ground to be sure and let go of it in disgust.
“You okay?” Ramses asked Ksenia, helping her to get on her feet.
Ksenia cringed with pain. “No. I think I’ve injured my ankle.” She rubbed her leg.
The moaning was getting louder. A score of things was walking up in uneven formation.
“Can you walk?” Ramses said, looking anxiously at the approaching threat. Ksenia tried to make a step and her legs buckled.
The living dead were getting nearer. And nearer.
“Come, quickly!” Ramses shouted. “Get into the van!”
He stood Ksenia up and got her hand around his neck.
Ramses pulled the door handle on the driver’s side. It was locked. They limped to the passenger’s seat side. Some luck was theirs. They had opened the door and crept inside just before a woman with a rotting face reached Ramses. He slammed the door in the undead thing’s muzzle.
“Not today, sister!” Ramses said. He locked the door and released a sigh of relief.
The dead driver of the cash-in-transit van occupied the driver’s seat. He was wearing a dark khaki uniform and a black woolen cap. A bullet hole yawned in the middle of his forehead. His stomach had been ripped open, and the spilled guts were all over the seat.
“Jesus and Mary!” Ramses said, looking at the corpse.
More automatons came up to the van and started pounding on the vehicle with their fists. The sounds of their hits were barely audible in the soundproof cab of the van.
“They won’t get in,” Ramses said as he looked at the inside of the van. “This baby was made zombieproof.”
He turned to Ksenia. “How are you?”
“Could be worse,” she said pointing to the sitting dead man.
The van key was in the ignition. Ramses turned it and set the engine in motion. This attracted more dead people with hungry eyes.
Ramses turned on the heater. The blessed warmth enveloped them.
Ksenia could not hear the ghastly moaning of the creatures, and she closed her eyes not to see them as well. In a couple minutes, her eyelids drooped, and she fell asleep exhausted.
Ramses drove the van, hitting the dead things with the bumper and rolling over them. When he turned the corner of the hotel building, he saw that he would not be able to drive around the abandoned cars and the fir trees lining the driveway. They were trapped in the backyard. He brought the vehicle into a halt.
Ksenia was sleeping, her chin on her chest and her matted hair covering her face.
At least we are inside a fortress on wheels, Ramses thought.
He searched the dead driver and found a plastic credit card, a wad of chewing gum wrapped into a sticky note, a passport, a bundle of assorted keys and a shiny separate key. No weapons. He took the items and shoved them into the glove compartment.
Then he pushed the corpse out of the van.
“Sorry, pal. Three’s a crowd.”
EIGHT
Room 317 was quiet, but it was not lifeless. Goran Pavic was lying in the bed, his hands clasped behind his neck. He was looking at the ceiling. A young woman was lying beside him. Naked. Her rosebud nipples were half covered with a cascade of red hair. His semen was drying on her belly. Her chambermaid’s black-and-white uniform was in a heap by the bed.
“Goran?” She stroked his raven black hair. He kept on staring at the ceiling. Saying nothing.
“Are we all going to die?”
He closed his eyes and said nothing.
“I’m scared.” She put her head on his chest. “Talk to me. Please.” He felt hot breath on his skin.
He sighed, and his hand touched the shock of her red fluffy hair. But he kept silent.
She looked at the watch on his wrist. “It’s ten already. We’re late. Everyone must be looking for us.”
His lips parted. “Let them.” He opened his eyes.
She smiled. She liked the way he spoke Russian with his funny Serbian accent.
Silence followed his words again.
“Was the war in Yugoslavia worse than this?” she said.
He looked at her but kept silent. It frightened her. A couple minutes ago he was so warm when he was inside her. Now he was as cold as an iceberg.
“Will you kiss me?”
His eyes turned into slits. He brushed her hand away and sat on the bed.
“Time to go,” he said, looking at his watch. “The meeting’s in the conference hall in fifteen minutes. And I need to check the things in the kitchen once again.”
“Goran … Won’t you kiss me?”
He went up to the chair where his clothes were hanging, and started to get dressed. He turned his back to her.
“Why are you so silent all of a sudden? You’re acting like I’m not here.” There was sadness in her voice.
“Can’t see anything wrong in silence,” he said, without looking at her. “Do we have to fill the air with chatter all the time?”
“It’s not just chatter.” She pouted, sitting up. “What kind of a man are you? Can’t you even pretend you have some feelings?”
He put his shirt down and turned to her. “I don’t love you, all right? Straight and simple. These are my feelings. Is that what you want to know?”
She looked at him with her big gray eyes. The right words died on her lips.
“And I don’t want to pretend,” he said. “It was just a fuck. Like a handshake. Now I need to go.”
His sperm was feeling cold against her skin now. She stood up, wiped her stomach and started putting her clothes on.
“Oh, you’re such a bastard,” she hissed through her teeth.
“Hey, woman,” Goran said and pointed his index finger at her. “You watch that mouth of yours! What the heck do you want from me, huh? I told you, I like you, but enough only to sleep with you. We’ve made an agreement, remember? That was pretty sincere. To my thinking.”
“I just feel like a whore.”
Goran looked up at the ceiling. “Nobody says you’re a whore.”
The cufflink he was holding slipped through his fingers and fell to the floor. He looked at her.
“Look, Marina, I am really sorry. I thought we had agreed.”
“You’re a freak. You know that?” Disappointment clouded her eyes. “A fucking freak.”
He sighed and looked at the ceiling again. “Oh, Lord! Chicks are just impossible sometimes.”
Marina adjusted her chambermaid’s uniform in front of the mirror and burst out crying. She was about to leave the room, when he came up to her and said, “Please wait.”
She stopped and turned to him. “What now?”
He took her by the hand. “You’ve taken the pill, haven’t you?”
Tears instantly smeared the mascara on her face. Without saying anything, she rushed to the door and slammed it behind her. The door banged shut like a rifle shot.
Goran stood in the sudden quietness of the room. He got on his knees and tried to find the cufflink but failed.
“Jebo te patak!” He took off his other cufflink and threw it against the wall.
Then he went into the bathroom.
“Ah, whatever,” he said and spat into the toilet bowl.
***
Andy was sitting at a desk on the stage of the conference hall. Diana Grinina, his deputy manager, was sitting near a flip chart opposite him. She was a cute young woman in her early thirties. It was unusual for Andy to see her wearing casual clothes today instead of a strict suit.
“You slept well?” Andy asked her, looking at people seeping into the spacious room one by one.
Diana nodded to a short Chinese man, who came into the room, escorted by a tall Chinese teenage girl, who had sunglasses on. They sat near Goran Pavic, who was having a lively conversation with a blonde woman.
“I was worried about my mother all night,” Diana said. “She lives in Yekaterinburg. I hope she’s well. But then I slept like a baby. All this stress and fear … My God.”
“Let’s hope this disaster is being stopped,” Andy said, putting his hand on her hand. “I saw tanks in the street. The military are trying to contain it.”
She nodded silently.
He looked at her scars. “How’s your cheek?”
She touched her cheek and said, “It’s all right. The pain is gone.”
“I hope it’ll heal before your wedding,” Andy said. “Is that the Russian expression?”
She smiled. “The doctor said there won’t be any scars left once the stitches are removed. Though, I have to look like Chucky the Killer Doll for a couple of weeks.”
Andy sighed. “It’s a miracle we’ve survived this nightmare.”
He flashbacked to the moment, when mutilated corpses started slamming against the main door, foaming at their mouths, and felt a snake of terror uncurling in his stomach.
Two big guys wearing camouflage uniforms sat in the front row. One of them had a snub-nosed Kalashnikov slung over his shoulder. Cash messengers. They were in the lounge removing the money from the ATM when the chaos broke loose, and they sealed the main entrance in time before the crazies could rush inside the hotel.
Andy looked at his Piaget watch. 10:10 a.m. He glanced around the room, which contained two hundred seats. It was the best conference hall in Chelyabinsk, and it was packed with all modern high-tech equipment. A large LED screen was installed above the stage. It could even boast a simultaneous interpretation booth. The only one in the city.
He had tried to contact the owner of the hotel who resided in Vienna but failed because there was no phone and Internet connection. Now it was up to him to make all the decisions.
Not all the seats were taken in the hall.
Less than a third here, Andy thought. Maybe even less than a quarter. The rest are in their rooms, asleep or afraid to go out.
The Arkaim Hotel could accommodate up to four hundred guests and it had been ninety percent filled before the zombie crisis. Some people had checked out on that harrowing Saturday morning and gone to the airport or the railway station. Some of them had gone outside and never returned. Or they had come back as frenzied cannibals and shredded both of the doormen into pieces of bloody flesh. Half of the staff had escaped from the building.
Andy was looking at the people entering the hall and doing his mental calculations. There were about two hundred people in the hotel all in all. The item on Andy’s current to-do list was the headcount.
The people talked quietly, coughed, shuffled their feet, or sat silently. A man with disheveled hair had brought sandwiches and a thermos flask and was eating, looking thoughtfully through the window at the morning sky.
Andy looked at the gathering audience. In a span of two days, they became not just his customers and employees. He was feeling a personal responsibility for all these people.
When everyone was seated, Andy came up to the front of the stage. Diana stood next to him to interpret his speech into Russian.
“Please put up your hand if you don’t understand Russian at all,” Andy said in English.
Four hands were raised. An old bearded man, a young man with Nordic features and the Chinese man, and the teenage girl, apparently his daughter.
“Khorosho. That means I can risk speaking Russian instead. Hello everyone,” Andy said in Russian. Diana was taken aback a little, as she was ready to interpret from English to Russian and not vice versa. “My name is Andrew Thomas. I am the General Manager of this hotel. Er … I can’t find the right words now, firstly, because Russian is not my native language. Please excuse me. And, secondly, the situation we’re presently in is very dire.
“But I’m happy to see all of you here. Safe and alive. Hopefully, everything is going to be all right with you and with your relatives and friends.”
He paused and scanned the hall. He saw despair and hope in people’s faces.
“As you see,” he went on, “the hotel is officially closed at the moment. We accept no check-ins.”
He tried to smile. Some of the guests chuckled nervously.
He dug out a piece of paper out of his pocket and looked at it. “We have two issues of primary concern on the agenda today: protection and food supply.”
One of the two cash messengers, a big guy with a round face, rose from his seat to be seen and said, “The garage entrance is not going to hold for long. It’s giving way. Maybe a couple more hours. Give or take.”
“Thanks,” Andy said. “We’ll reinforce the barricades. What’s your name?”
“Marcel.”
“Okay, Marcel. We’ll talk about it.”
The cash messenger sat down.
“Can you tell us what’s going on?” said a woman with a little boy sitting in her lap.
“I don’t know how to describe what I’m feeling right now,” Andy said. “What exacerbates everything is the fact that we know nothing about what is really happening in this city. It could be a war or a coup. It could be anything. Our main goal here is to survive till the government and the army restore order in the city. So that we’ll be able to see our loved ones. I realize you all have families out there. And I hope they’re safe and sound. The same your families would wish for you – to save your lives, to be able to see you, to be able to hug you again someday.”
The woman with the little boy started crying and left the hall. Andy asked one of the security guards to accompany them to their room.
“And we’ll survive only if we pool our forces together,” Andy went on. “We have safety in numbers. We have people of different occupations, qualifications, and expertise here. Well, I honestly hope you did not come to this town as a delegation for a stockbroker convention.”
People laughed in the audience. Diana looked at Andy and smiled.
“I hope we have medical doctors here, engineers, mechanics, electricians.” Andy made a pause. “Who else will we need? Athletes, welders, hunters, cooks … Hopefully, an assassin or two is present among you.”
More people laughing.
“With your knowledge, you can survive and help others to survive.”
Andy picked up a big book with the green cover from the desk. “I’m asking all of you now to come up and check in again. In this log book. It’s a paper book, as I anticipate power outages.”
“That’s a good idea,” Marcel said. His partner nodded in agreement.
Andy took a pen out of his breast pocket and invited everyone including the staff to go through registration.
“Please state your name, the number of your room and your useful skills. As of now, you’re free of charge. Let’s stay together and let this place really be your home away from home.”
People started clapping their hands.
Diana whispered to Andy, “You’re making progress in Russian.”
Andy rolled his eyes.
Goran stood up and roared with laughter. “Nice speech, William Wallace!”
Andy thanked everyone for their support.
“Now, as for protection,” he said, looking around the room in search of his security manager. “Where is Sorokin?” he addressed the guards.
The guards looked at each other. One of them flicked his finger at his Adam’s apple. Drunk.
“Great,” Andy muttered through his teeth.
“Andy,” Goran said. “How many times have I told you that you shouldn’t have hired an ex-cop!”
Andy frowned and went on. “I have to warn you that whoever’s outside the walls of this building,” he pointed at the windows, “are not human beings anymore. You can’t talk to them. You can’t beg them or please them. You can’t cooperate with them. Obviously, all they need is to feed. On whatever comes in their way. I know it’s not logical, but let’s face the bitter truth.”
People were absorbing each word Andy was saying.
“For how long are you going to keep us here?” A red-faced man with a big belly asked him. He held a beer can in his hand. There was a towel around his neck.
“No one’s keeping you here, brother,” Goran said. “You can hit the road any time you want. I can open any window for you to jump the hell out!”
“Hey, shut your trap!” The man’s face got redder. He leaned forward. “Who do you think you are?”
“No, you shut up!” Goran said.
The man got angry and stood up. He was about to attack Goran like a ferocious pit bull. Andy gave a silent sign to his guards, and they rose threateningly from their seats.
Diana held her hand up. “That’s enough, everybody! We’re going to stay here as long as deemed necessary. It’s not our choice. The hotel just happens to be the safest place around here so far. Mr. Pavic is right. We’re not forcing you to stay. But please do not try to leave this building. You’ll put everybody here at risk.”
The man slumped into his chair and seemed to calm down. He slurped his beer, clenching his jaws in anger. He crumpled the empty can and tossed it on the floor.
Andy’s eyes turned into slits but he did not say anything.
We’ll have to close the bar and withdraw all the liquor from rooms, he thought.
Goran got upon the stage. “We’ll check all the possible holes, through which these schizos could get into the hotel. We have to check the food supply as well. As far as I remember, it’s going to be enough for two weeks. If we ration the food, we’ll be able to not worry about it for over three weeks. I just need the exact number of people staying at the hotel. The data at the reception desk are messed up. We’re going to check every room in this building. Door-to-door. Each of the fifteen stories. I guess, the government is not going to help, so we have to keep up somehow until the air is clear. But, people, I’m telling you, the situation is crappy.”
Just as he said those words, the lights in the room went suddenly out.
“See?” Goran said.
“As if we haven’t had enough,” grumbled one of the hotel guests.
Goran turned to Andy. “Shit just keeps piling up.”
Andy cringed at the swear words. He looked wearily at others. “Goran, would you be so kind as to not swear? Save our ears, please.”
“Okay, no problem,” Goran said. “Pardon my French, ladies and gentlemen. I’ll swear in my native tongue, then.”
The conference room had been designed so that it was in the northern wing of the hotel and it wouldn’t be so stifling hot here during summer meetings without air conditioning. The sun was up, and the light was sufficient in the room. But Andy did not want to think about the time when the sun would go down.
“Let’s hope the power outage is temporary,” Andy said.
A dark-complexioned man in his forties raised his hand, “Sir? Do you have a power generator in this facility?” He spoke in English with a heavy Turkish accent.
“Yes, right,” Andy said. “Actually, we do but we haven’t got it installed yet. They delivered it to us two weeks ago.”
“Well,” the man said. “I’m a trained civil engineer. I could be of some help here.”
“Thank you, sir,” Andy said. “What’s your name, please?”
“Erkan Zorlu.”
“It’s a stroke of luck that we have you here, Mr. Zorlu.”
The man nodded and smiled. “Call me Erkan. Glad to be of service.”
“Fuck!” Goran exclaimed and slapped his forehead with his hand. “I mean, sranje! The fridges! Of course!”
Andy looked at Goran. He didn’t frown this time. He started getting used to Goran’s cussing. “What about them?”
“The perishable food supplies will go rot soon without the power if the outage is permanent. We have to do something about it.”
Andy nodded. “Yes, you’re right.”
“And also water,” Goran said. “Back in my teenage years, I was in the siege of our city during the Yugoslav Wars, and we suffered from lack of water.”
“Yes,” Marcel said worriedly.
“Yeah,” Goran said. “We gotta fill all the bathtubs and all the receptacles we can find with water.”
“Besides, there is the water in the pools,” Andy remarked.
“We also have to keep the drinking water and non-drinking water separate,” added Erkan.
“So, water won’t be a problem,” Andy said.
“But we have to do it fast,” Goran said. “Who knows what will happen next? Water supply cutoff?”
“I’m afraid to even to think about it,” Diana said. “And also about the heating cutoff.”
People got agitated about the current problems, and it was getting noisy in the audience. It took Andy five minutes to call everybody to order.
A young man raised his hand. “Can you give me a gun so I could protect myself and my family?”
The red-faced troublemaker snorted. “A gun! One gun won’t help you much if you come across a crowd of those bloodsuckers. You’re walking meat for them.”
“Now this is really a big problem,” Andy said. “We have only five firearms in the hotel. They’re with the security guards.”
The family man looked disappointed.
It’s six, actually, but they don’t need to know about my shoulder holster, Andy thought. Besides, it’s still a drop in the ocean.
“We never needed so many weapons,” Andy said.
“Nine firearms,” said Marcel’s partner, a tall guy, wearing a black sports cap. He showed his Kalashnikov and a handgun and pointed to Marcel’s same set of arms. “Count us in.”
“And what shall we do then?” said the family man. “I got a wife and two kids in my room.”
“Oh man,” the tall cash messenger said. “There’s a lot of stuff you can use here for killing— knives, forks, table and chair legs, hammers, screwdrivers, pool cues. Take your pick. Hell, you can even kill using a fucking mascara pen eyeliner.” He tossed a pellet of chewing gum into his mouth.
Marcel said to the man, “Gleb, you’ve always been a professional.”
Gleb sat back, smirked and started chewing the gum.
“What are you talking about?” said the red-faced beer drinker. He had opened another beer can already. “Without arms, we’re all going to be fucking fodder for those freaks in no time!”
There was a general commotion again, and Andy had to dismiss the meeting.
“We’ve had enough of talking,” Andy said. “The sooner we begin doing something, the better.”
After the meeting, everyone was given a task to do. Some people helped to reinforce the barricades near doors, dragging all the sofas, tables, chairs, hassocks, and whatnot from the upper floors to block the doorways. Erkan Zorlu went into the basement to install the power generator. The sanitary engineer and two technicians helped him. The garage door had to be sealed, and Erkan could handle a welder’s equipment. He did his job in three hours.
The chambermaids continued to serve in the rooms. Some of them sought to escape from fear and depression, and they wanted to be around people. They were glad to be useful again. The guests were supportive and helped the maids. It seemed ridiculous to be complaining about dirty linen or dirty pillows in a critical situation like this when everything was falling apart. Some of them put their rooms in order themselves.
The waiters and waitresses went back to their duties. Due to the shortage of waiters, some of the guests volunteered to help out at mealtimes.
None of the guards were gone during the beginning of the chaos. Many strong men among the guests offered to be guards.
Andy understood that the people were close to panic, and it was necessary to go on acting as if everything was normal to keep their spirits up.
***
Ivan, the guard whose presence was not necessary anymore in the CCTV room because of the power outage, was standing near the window, as Andy walked along the corridor. There was a shade of worry on the man’s face.
“What’s wrong, Ivan?” Andy asked him.
“I don’t know, sir,” the young man said. “I just remember clearly that the cash-in-transit truck was at the north of the building. Now it has moved here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Keep watching,” Andy said. “If you see something unusual,” he held up his walkie-talkie, “let me know.”
“Sure.” Ivan nodded. “Right away.”
***
Goran ran his kitchen like a general in a battlefield. He was barking out orders to his cook assistants, those of them who hadn’t yet lapsed into depression and had come down into the kitchen to make meals. Some of them had come wearing jeans or other casual clothes, but Goran had made them put on their uniforms. He himself had his immaculately white chef hat on. It gave him extra power in the kitchen.
“Why do we need this outfit?” one of his assistants asked him. “Who cares? We could be dead in an hour.”
