Last Signal | In Search of Truth |

Date: 1989
Time: 13:09
Weather: Cloudy
Consciousness returns slowly.
Cold asphalt presses against the back.
The air smells of dampness and rust.
Above, a gray five-story building looms with empty windows.
The head throbs with pain.
The left leg trembles, as if recently struck.
"God… why does the head hurt so much?..."
The street is empty.
No voices, no footsteps.
Only the wind moves between buildings, stirring rusty signs.
The only open entrance leads inside the building.
On the first floor of the apartment, everything is overturned and covered in dust.
In the cupboards, some grains, pasta, and a few bottles of water are found.
After a short search, the essentials are taken: canned food, water, bandages, and hydrogen peroxide.
Next, the path leads to the police station.
The main door is locked.
A few strikes with a sharp stone break the old lock.
Inside, it is dark and silent.
Drawers are overturned, papers scattered on the floor.
In one, a Makarov pistol and a box of bullets are discovered.
"Hmm… maybe someone left this in a hurry."
Nothing else of value is found.
Outside, the sky grows heavier.
Clouds slowly cover the horizon.
The road leads to the railway tracks.
Near the crossing lies the body of a man in a gas mask.
Nearby is a worn bag.
Inside, a dosimeter is found.
After a few attempts, the device flickers to life with a dry crackle.
Also inside are a few bullets and a can of food.
The body is buried by the roadside.
Leaving it on the surface in this emptiness seems wrong.
The path continues along the rails.
Soon, an old handcar appears on the tracks.
The rusty mechanism still functions.
Metal creaks as the wheels begin to turn.
In the distance, an overturned train is visible.
Next to it stands a small signalman's hut.
Inside, a few more cans are found.
The journey continues.
Soon, a dense fog begins to form.
At first, light.
Then thick and cold.
Suddenly, two dim red lights flash behind.
Eyes.
The handcar accelerates, wheels clanging on the rails...*

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