Natália dragged Kobayashi's body to the farm infirmary. The soldiers looked at the situation completely outraged. They made way by instinct, others out of fear of what would happen if they did not.
They gathered to see the condition Kobayashi was in, swallowing hard just thinking about what had happened.
— Isn't he a "Ash"?
— Was it Natália who did this?
Murmurs took over the place, while a trail of blood was left by Kobayashi's body. It was as if that painted a reminder.
"There is an abyss of difference, even among the 'Ashes'"
With nothing more to be done, it had to continue. A common faint lasts at most two minutes, if it lasts longer it becomes prolonged loss of consciousness. However, when a person remains unconscious for more than an hour it means they are in a coma.
In other words, Kobayashi would remain in a comatose state for about twenty hours until his body recovered. Natália avoided critical blows to the head, if she had not been careful it likely would have taken more than two days for him to wake up.
Highly complex cells such as neurons take much longer to regenerate.
A trail was left in the snow from dragging the body. But since the place where they had the "Sparring" was far from where Félix was buried, there was no problem of someone discovering it.
That matter returned to being only about Félix.
The day went on until night fell, and while the farm soldiers carried out their night watch, that group of three slaves continued heading toward the camp.
It was 17:23, the camp lights were visible in the darkness of the night. Everyone was tired and shivering from the cold. The long walk had consumed much of their bodies, even with stopping points along the way.
— Finally, I can't walk anymore... — murmured Anastasia, her voice hoarse and dragging.
As they approached, the camp became more visible.
It was right at the beginning of a conifer forest, in front of it a vast desert of snow, easily detected from afar. Some lamps illuminated a tent that stood before that expanse.
In the background faint lights could be seen like fireflies around the trees. There were improvised tents and small wooden houses with an aspect of "made in a hurry."
A guard spotted the group of slaves and aimed his rifle, raising his hand signaling for them to stop.
— You there, raise your hands. — The voice was young, but firm.
The guard shouted something into the forest, it did not take long until two more people appeared. One of them was an old man, he had a long gray beard and wore a black cap. At his side stood a middle-aged woman with black hair and brown eyes.
— Who are you!? — shouted the old man.
The girl stepped forward. — We are slaves coming from the farm!
They whispered among themselves.
— And what is the password?
Anastasia took a step back already ready to run, Dmitri grabbed her arm and stepped in front of her serving as a shield.
— Password? No one warned us about a password, sir!
— And how do I know you are not spies?
The girl grew furious. — Spies!? — She pointed to her own chest. — Look at us!! Old impo—
Dmitri covered the girl's mouth.
— Forgive her! Her temperament is not the best. — The girl struggled for him to remove his hand. — Someone told us there would be shelter south of the farm, I swear that is all.
The old man let out a sincere laugh.
— Calm down, I'm just joking, haha. — He gestured with his hand. — You may enter.
Dmitri admired the old man's boldness in making a joke at a moment like that. The girl took advantage of the distraction and struck Dmitri's ribs with her elbow.
Urgh!!
The girl stepped forward again without saying a word, completely ignoring Dmitri's suffering.
Her steps sank into the snow, it did not take a genius to notice when she was irritated. Her rough manner did not care about the situation they were in, the cold and hunger did not bother her as much as before.
— It has been some time since we received slaves, I was starting to think the farm had been destroyed or something like that. — commented the old man.
— They increased the defense and reduced the slaves' rations four months ago, hungry people do not have much energy to think about escape.
The old man narrowed his eyes. — I see...
As they entered the forest, the locals came out of houses and tents curious to see their new arrivals. Most had some scar scattered across their bodies.
Bandages covered the eye of some, women and men without a foot or a hand. There were even those with severe facial damage, perhaps the result of bullet fragments during escape.
— Be glad you arrived here safely, most do not have the same luck.
— I see. — said the girl, trying to maintain composure.
Anastasia stared at a woman with a large scar covering half her face.
— It seems everyone pays a price for freedom...
The old man led them to a wooden house right in the center of the camp. There was not a single guard around it, in fact... counting all the armed people visible in the camp, they totaled five.
Inside the house there was no luxury, only the basics for a human being to endure a cold climate. There were many thick blankets and fabrics spread across dozens of shelves, red stains indicated some were used as bandages.
The walls creaked when the wind blew stronger, whistling through every crack of the house. Anastasia held Dmitri's shirt with her fingers in concern. It was a futile gesture, but it brought much security for some reason.
— You may sit, here is fine.
There were no chairs, only cloths marking the floor.
— I assume you are hungry.
— You have no idea. — said Anastasia.
The old man whistled, and within seconds a well bundled woman appeared with bowls of soup in her hands. Hot steam rose, bringing an aroma of carrot and boiled potatoes.
Anastasia did not wait for the woman to hand her the soup, she promptly stood up and served herself before everyone. Her haste was so great that she ended up burning her tongue on the first spoonful.
— Huh? — The woman began counting the slaves. — Three? Am I dreaming?
A wide smile appeared on her face.
— I apologize for not introducing ourselves yet, but now that we are calmer I think we can—
The woman grabbed Dmitri's face.
— Just look at them! Not a single scratch!
Almost hysterical, the woman lifted Dmitri's shirt and checked every part of his body looking for injuries.
— Ma'am... I think this—
— Look at this Mikhail!!
The woman ignored whatever they said, she was completely astonished that there were no wounded. As soon as she finished checking Dmitri she turned her eyes to Anastasia, who was eating.
— Your hair, there is not a single patch missing skin.
Anastasia gave a light shove with her shoulder. — You are going to drop hair in my soup.
The woman ran every finger of her hands across Anastasia's scalp, causing enormous discomfort.
— Ma'am I think this is alr—
She pulled Anastasia's shirt up all at once, her cheeks flushed instantly.
— These scars... When did you—
Anastasia pulled her shirt back down to cover the scar.
— You have to ask that kind of thing!! — Her face was red with embarrassment.
The woman's eyes turned to the girl.
— I did not even think of that. — she said.
The woman smiled again, she raised her hands like a beast about to attack its prey. The girl brought her hands forward to defend herself.
— No.
— Refusing is useless.
Cough!! Cough!!
The old man coughed on purpose drawing the woman's attention.
— Elena, control yourself with your jokes, you know how tired they arrive.
— Sorry...
Finally, she gave one last look at the girl and left to fetch two more soups. But before that she checked Anastasia's hair one last time.
— Elena!
Startled. — Okay, I'm going...
The moment she left, all that could be heard in the room was the sound of the spoon hitting the bowl from which Anastasia ate. It was irritating, the girl felt a huge urge to throw that soup out the window.
— I apologize for Elena, usually slaves do not appear so... Whole, we could say.
— And how do they usually come? — asked the girl.
The old man took time to answer. — Dead, to be quite honest. It is very difficult for a slave with such thin clothes to endure a twelve hour walk, even with stopping points. — He brought a hand to his head. — Most who arrived were in an advanced stage of hypothermia, or anemic due to unforeseen problems during escape.
Elena returned after a few minutes with two more soups, one for Dmitri and one for the girl. They took the opportunity to talk about some things during the meal.
Certain things were trivial such as the bathroom location, wake up time, tasks and the like. However, the old man warned that the camp was a temporary shelter, a place where fugitive slaves from the farm rest and recover.
When properly recovered they would be instructed to go to a base a few kilometers from the camp. He did not give many details, but it seems an organization is freeing slaves and assembling armed groups.
The reason? Resources and territorial dominance is obvious, they have already established themselves in other locations in Russia. But from the way the old man spoke, it did not seem they were liberators.
Freedom in exchange for soldiers. Those who can fight will fight, while those whose bodies are too devastated can still serve as support. But the old man did not want to say what happened to those completely incapacitated.
— If you are well, I believe you will be able to leave in at most a week. We will send a guide so you arrive safely.
— Even so, how can you be sure we will not be attacked along the way?
The old man took time to respond. — Our routes always change to avoid being discovered, so it is very unlikely that will happen.
— All right, you may have your reasons to believe that. — She clenched her hands, as if remembering something. — But the worst day always comes in the most unexpected way.
The answer silenced the old man for a moment, until he forced a smile onto his face.
— I understand your fear, but trust us.
Not long after the conversation, everyone finished their meal. Elena returned to collect the bowls, and not to break habit she ran her hand through Anastasia's hair once more before leaving.
— Now that you have finished, why do we not introduce ourselves? We have talked a lot, but it would be more comfortable for everyone to know who they are speaking with.
— She needs to as well! — said Anastasia holding Elena's dress.
— All right.
— But I still have to wash the—
— Sit down already. — ordered the old man.
The atmosphere inside the house was pleasant, although there was no fire pit the blankets were warm. For a moment it was possible to forget the cold.
Cough!! — The old man began. — My name is Mikhail Kuznetsov, I believe I am the oldest in this camp. — He touched Elena's shoulder. — And this figure here is Elena Ivanovna, she does everything around here.
Everyone's eyes turned to Dmitri, and so it went with each one saying their full name and age. Until it reached the girl's turn...
— Go on, say it! — said Anastasia. — She did not want to say her name while we were coming here either!
— I am sorry miss, but tasks here are assigned by name. If we start giving nicknames to others that could be problematic in the future.
The girl remained stubborn, but slowly her rigid posture began to dissolve. Yielding under everyone's pressure she was forced to speak.
— My name is Alice... Alice Nabokov...
— It is a beautiful name, why were you avoiding saying it? — said Mikhail.
— Personal reasons, that is all. — She raised her eyebrows. — Ah! And I am fourteen years old.
— You seem quite different from a fourteen year old girl. — Mikhail was impressed. — I think we have never had someone so young in the camp...
— Do not worry. — She flexed her right arm. — I am quite strong.
Completely absent of muscle.
— I see...
After the introductions, Mikhail showed where they would sleep until the day of departure. They were large tents with thick tarps, all white in color, but inside it was possible to decorate as one wished.
Anastasia and Alice would share a tent, while Dmitri would have to stay with two other men. The capacity of the tents was up to three people, and by rule men and women had to be separated, no matter if married or not.
— It is much more comfortable than the Barn. — commented Anastasia, holding the blankets.
— He said tomorrow we will have to choose tasks, so it is better we sleep early.
Alice turned to the side, but Anastasia was already wrapped like a mummy in the blankets.
— I do not think I need to say...
The night passed with the moon appearing briefly in the sky several times, like a reminder of the overwhelming cold that followed it.
When the first rays of sun, thin and shy, began to touch the farm facilities, something curious was happening. In the infirmary to be exact.
No nurse or doctor saw anything happen, no other hospitalized person understood it. Simply, without giving any alarm or prior warning, Kobayashi's bed was empty.
Blood splatters spread across the bed and floor, forming a red trail to the nearest window. The icy breeze from outside moved the white curtains like waves on a beach.
The cameras detected nothing, the guards noticed no strange movement. But what most intrigued the infirmary staff...
Was the strange heat that Kobayashi's bed was giving off.