Going down to the shore, I decided to stop for a smoke break. The stamina were at the limit, my legs were cramping from a long walk, my back ached from a weighty backpack. Climbing onto one of the stones, I put my backpack and sat down next to me to take out a cigarette case and a lighter. Having lit a cigarette, I began to look towards the Kara Sea. Waves beat against rocks, seagulls screamed. The sun came out from behind the clouds and its warm rays fell on my weathered face. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was relaxing on a sandy beach somewhere on the coast of California... I always wanted to go there. But, alas, the pandemic destroyed this dream in me. Now all that remains is to imagine this picture, thereby relieving stress. Good therapy, really soothing...

After sitting like this for a while and finishing my cigarette, I got off the stone, put on my backpack and walked along the coast...

Several hours later, I could already make out the camp in the distance. Thin wisps of smoke rose from there. Probably, residents burned fires, preparing dinner for them, or simply warmed themselves near them. I need to be hurry to get there! Having adjusted my backpack, I continued to move...

The sun had already begun to set when I approached the camp gates. On them was written "THE ARK" in black paint. Concrete walls with barbed wire towered around the perimeter so that nothing could enter the camp through them. A little to the right of the gate behind the wall was an observation tower, on which a sentinel was on duty.

“Stop! Who is coming?” A loud voice came from the tower. I stopped with my hands raised above my head. I did not see who asked, but recognizing the voice of one of the watchmen and answered:

"It's me, Stepanych, don't shoot." Three second pause. "Spooky, is that you?" - the watchman asked again. I grinned. "In the flesh" - I said.

Oh yes, during the trip I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name is Spooky. At least that's what everyone calls me in the camp. Why did they call me that? For my appearance. Due to the lack of sleep and frequent outings, my face was pale and thin, purple bags adorned under reddish eyes, and a vertical scar, received in one of the battles with mutants, crossed my left eye. There was overgrown stubble on my cheeks and chin, which lately I still could not shave off: there was no time for this, and there was no desire either. My voice was hoarse and eerie, during a conversation which introduced the interlocutors into discomfort. Therefore, I tried to be laconic, so as not to scare people with it. The only element of my appearance that attracted people at least a little is a black earring in my left ear, which I managed to pierce even before the pandemic...

When I first arrived at the camp, things were much worse: due to stress and hunger, I looked like a walking corpse. Stepanych was exactly the one who christened me with this nickname. Now I am stronger and in good shape. But despite this, everyone continues to call me Spooky. I'm not against. The real name is not often used here anyway.

"Wait, we'll open it now," said Stepanich. Soon the gates began to open, loudly fastening with rusty hinges. When the opening widened, I walked through it. Finally I'm home. In addition to the formidable sentinel from the tower, I was met by several more sentries overweighted with guns. Stepanych, as befits a watchman, was a big, slightly chubby man in his fifties. He wore an army camouflage uniform, worn ankle boots, on a grayish head, the same army cap with a short visor. He wore binoculars around his neck, through which he and others on duty scanned the area beyond the camp. Behind him was a Dragunov sniper rifle, ready for battle in case if someone begins to show aggression and encroach on The Ark. Stepanych also loved to drink and always smelled of fumes from him. But now, surprisingly, he was sober and in a good mood.

"Where were you? We already thought that you were dead somewhere in the forest, we were going to send a search detachment," he asked anxiously.

"Had a little delay. Long story," I replied. Now, the last thing I wanted was to tell Stepanych about how my journey went.

"Okay, I see that you are tired, rest... But first go to the Captain - he is waiting for your report," he warned.

“Okay, quiet service,” I wished and headed towards the two-story building, which was located almost in the center of The Ark. Previously, it was something like an administrative building, now it has been converted into a headquarters. It was there that I had to meet with the Captain.

"C'mon, guys, close the gates," Stepanych gave the order while climbing back up the tower.

There were tents and people walking around. Someone was busy with cooking, repair work, someone was standing or sitting near the fire, playing the guitar or telling jokes, someone was just talking on different topics, someone was arguing, laughing... kids were playing catch or kicking a ball... In general, something was always happening in The Ark. It is home to about a thousand people who miraculously managed to escape the fate of infection and transformation into a cadaver. Big camp, isn't it? But definitely safer than outside.

Passing by, someone recognized me and greeted me, and I nodded back to them.

Approaching the front doors of the headquarters and telling the guard that I was heading to the main one, I went through them, went to the stairs and climbed to the second floor. Passing through the half-empty corridor, I found the right door to the office, knocked and when I heard "Come in!", I opened it and stepped over the threshold. Closing the door behind me, I looked towards a wide table, at which a middle-aged man sat in thought, examining a map of the area.

"Allow me to report!" - I said, saluting.

"Spooky," Captain said looking at me, "Welcome back. Report on how the sortie went?"

Captain is a serious man. Previously, he was a respected military officer who went through many warriors, having paid a debt to the Motherland. He is now the head of The Ark, which lives and thrives on a vast amount of both life and military experience. He, like no one else, knows how to survive and lead people. Strict but fair at the same time. Everyone loves and respects him immensely. A real leader.

Coming closer to the table, I reported back, telling Captain in detail everything that happened to me during my journey. He listened, removing his glasses, furrowing his thick eyebrows and stroking his gray beard with dry hands. The only emotion he showed was a surprise when I told him about the meeting with the wolfhounds. When I finished with the report, he put the glasses back on and asked: "Did you placed marks on the map? Give it here." Holding out my map to him, he studied it and noted the places which I had visited, then he returned it back to me.

"Well," Captain said wearily, "Take the supplies that you have collected to the warehouse. And as for the cadaver, I will immediately issue an order to strengthen the security. Where there was one, there must surely be more. Only the crowd of these bastards was not enough... Well, at ease, soldier, march to rest" said Captain.

Saluting him, I turned around and headed for the exit.

"And yet...", - Captain said to me, - "You are damn lucky, son. It's so clever to hide from a pack of wolfhounds... To whom you tell, won't believe..." Looking in his direction, I smiled faintly and turning around, opened the door...

Back in the hallway, I closed the door and exhaled. "Now to the warehouse and then to sleep," I thought. Going down the stairs and out of the building onto the street, I headed towards the food warehouse, which was located just behind the headquarters. Dusk has already fallen on the camp...

Following the orders of the Captain, I trudged wearily to the barracks. I was hungry, but most of all I wanted to sleep. "To hell, I'll eat in the morning," I decided.

The barracks was a long, wide tent for 50 people. There were bunk beds here, each person had their own personal box for things. Everything is like in the army. Passing the beds, on which someone was already asleep, someone was reading or listening to music, I found my place.

I slept on the top tier. On the bottom one was my neighbor: a young guy, about 20 years old. His name is Yusuf. We did not communicate much with him, due to the fact that we performed different tasks. I am a scout on the front line, and he is a radio operator at headquarters. In parallel with this, Yusuf is developing a more stable communication that would allow clear comms between units on the front line at longer distances (the current equipment was only enough for a few kilometers). Therefore, even if we communicated, it was within The Ark. As far as I remember, he was born in Iran and spent his childhood there. Studied at the Russian embassy. Then his parents moved to Ukraine, he graduated from high school with honors, studied the first year at the Faculty of Philology, had a passion for learning languages, and when the pandemic began, he traveled across the north of Siberia in search of people whose existence few people in the world knew about. He was just in Dikson to plan his next path when the virus began to turn all living things into monsters. He was very lucky, as he was able to be safe... But in general, the guy is smart, kind and capable. Now he is here, lying on the bed and reading a book on the Persian language with concentration.

"Greetings!" Yusuf said with a smile when he saw me. "Did you stay outside again? You were gone for a long time."

"Yep..." I answered wearily and thoughtfully,"There were reasons for that...".

"Will you tell me? - putting the book aside asked Yusuf, - I'm always interested in listening to what is happening outside..."

"Not today," I interrupted. "I'm tired."

Yusuf, in addition to the ability to languages ​​and high intelligence, also possessed boundless curiosity. He was madly interested in the world outside, since he was able to avoid a close acquaintance with the global danger... But now I was simply unable to tell him about what happened to me during these few days.

"Well... okay...", - Yusuf said quietly without insisting. He picked up the book again. The expression on his face showed that he was a little offended.

"I'll tell you, but tomorrow. I need to sleep," I promised. The answer to me was "Uh-huh...", but I noticed that Yusuf brightened a little. Except for me and his fellow radio operators, Yusuf had few contacts with anyone. The Russian people, nevertheless, are cold-blooded in communicating with foreigners.

Taking off my ammunition, outerwear and boots and leaving it all in my drawer, I climbed onto my bed.

In an amicable way, I also needed to take a shower, but fatigue overcame me so much that a little bit more and I would just collapse. So water procedures will also have to be postponed until tomorrow. Unfortunately, the smell of sweat and dampness was so strong that Yusuf could smell it immediately.

"Ugh, damn it, you should at least wash yourself!" Yusuf remarked nervously, pinching his nose with his fingers, "It stinks awfully!"

"Say "thanks" that I am not sleeping at the bottom" - I grinned. "Then you would not be good."

Having said something displeased in Persian, my neighbor continued reading with a pinched nose. In order not to torture Yusuf with my smell anymore, I climbed onto my bed, and as soon as my head touched the pillow, I immediately fell asleep. How nice it is to sleep in your own bed and not on the ground!