39. Daily Life II
"Could someone help over here?"
"On three, let go. One, two…"
The men tossed the corpses of the Madmen into a deep pit. The bodies piled up layer upon layer like pigs slaughtered and discarded during a plague. Hands protruded from beneath the crushed dead; feet were bent grotesquely in the wrong direction at the joints; heads lolled backward with their necks broken. The sight of that monstrous grave was enough to churn the stomach and make one vomit up whatever one had eaten.
Three days had passed since the battle in Coral District. The attacks of the Madmen had lessened at the shelter, and for the first time there came a brief moment of respite. The survivors busied themselves building defensive structures in preparation for the next assault, which might come at any moment. The stench of rot rose from the Madmen's corpses strewn everywhere along the roads. Whenever a pit had been filled with bodies, an armored robot would draw a flamethrower from its enormous arm and set the corpses ablaze. Black smoke filled the sky like storm clouds.
"Why the hell are there so many bodies? My back is killing me."
"Ah, I'm starving. When do we eat today?"
After the annihilation of the main force of District 3, contact with central headquarters had been cut off. The survivors had to endure on the supplies they had left. The women agonized over how to stretch the food so that as many people as possible could eat. Twenty portions of corn soup were mixed together and diluted with water to feed nearly eighty people. A single fist-sized loaf of bread was cut into pieces and divided among five. They were hungry, but not a single person complained.
April sat beside the pit with the two men, resting as they watched the bodies burn.
"Um… here."
A little girl approached April and offered her a piece of bread. April looked at the child and nodded.
"Um…"
The girl seemed as though she wanted to say something more. April tilted her head curiously.
"Thank you for saving my sister."
The girl bowed her head to April. Supremer and O'Brien looked at the child in confusion. April herself seemed unsure at first whether the child was truly speaking to her, but then a look crossed her face as though she had suddenly remembered the girl. The child flushed red, pressed something into April's hand, and then ran back as fast as she could.
"Looks like you've got a fan. You got famous already?"
Supremer said it in a mocking tone.
"Well, I am pretty. What, jealous?"
"Oh, sure."
April laughed as she looked at him.
The outer perimeter of the shelter was guarded jointly by Hunters and civilian men. As manpower grew scarce and rotating shifts became impossible, some Hunters simply moved their belongings into the guard posts and stood watch day and night. The endless passing of time wore on, and little by little everyone grew exhausted.
"Where are you from?"
"Lafunya."
"You've come a long way. Still, maybe because you're from the same Branch, I feel a bit closer to you."
"Did support come from other Branches too?"
"No. Here in Murmansk, besides people from the Kast Branch, there are also many refugees from the old branches that disappeared—Tamian, Hook, Icardro, Tanjan. Their situation is pitiful, sure, but because they're from different Branches, their way of thinking is different too. It's hard to get used to them."
"Yeah… I can see that."
The Hunter gave a bitter smile.
"I've never met a single decent refugee. You'd think if people took them in with difficulty, they'd at least live quietly, but no—they always have to stir things up. You know that useless kind of pride they all seem to have? Back when I worked at a restaurant, we had a guy from Tanjan Branch who joined us. He was exactly like that. Dark-skinned, ugly as hell—and every chance he got, he lied and tried to dodge responsibility. How are you supposed to work alongside trash like that? So I told the manager to fire him, and not long after that, they said they were going to cut my wages. I thought it was absurd, but then I found out that bastard from Tanjan had been making only half what I was. And since he was doing work at almost the same level as me, they wanted to lower my pay too. Those fucking bastards. Murmansk has become a mess because of the refugees. Everything."
The man spoke in a tone of weary resentment.
"Sometimes I think the world really is nearing its end. Branches keep disappearing, one after another. Volcanoes erupt. The place where I used to live is overrun with Madmen. It's all finished for everyone now."
"Ah, there's the смена shift relief."
The Hunter pointed at someone approaching in the distance, perhaps because he no longer wanted to hear the man's despairing talk. But the man failed to notice and kept going.
"If you really think about it, though, this is all because of the mayor."
"Who? Victor?"
At the sudden sound of a woman's voice, the man turned sharply. It was April. Pleased to have a new listener, he continued eagerly.
"Of course! That damned Mayor Victor! Isn't all of this because of that so-called new refugee relocation policy? People outside Golden Tower were already screaming that they couldn't survive, and then he brought in refugees on top of that. The people in Golden Tower shut their gates tight so not even a spark touches them, and they're probably delighted because they can buy labor cheap. It's people like us—slaves outside the walls—who've ended up worse off than the refugees. Prices go up, wages get cut, and the bastards in Golden Tower get fatter by the day. If that isn't the end times, then what is? People have been marching to the Tower and protesting for years now, and Mayor Victor doesn't care in the slightest. The only people he cares about are those Golden Tower pigs who'll vote for him again. Truth is, the real rot stinks far worse over there."
At that moment, a voice crackled over the radio that had been sitting quietly. Soon afterward, a rescue helicopter appeared in the distant sky, beating the air as it flew toward the shelter.
"P1. P1. Arrived at the assembly point. Escort commencing!"
The Hunters looked around in confusion, while most of the civilians seemed uneasy. But a few Murmansk residents merely frowned as though they were sick of the sight. The helicopter door opened, and a well-dressed man in a sleek suit stepped out, elegantly covering his nose with a silk handkerchief.
"Well, if it isn't Mister Dmitri himself."
Ignoring the residents' sarcastic greeting completely, Dmitri smiled broadly. His voice was smooth and flowing, like honey spread over a plate.
"How is everyone doing? From this moment on, all residents here will be relocated elsewhere."
"What? What do you mean by that?"
"We have received reports that the residents' nutritional condition is in terrible shape. From now on, the city has decided to manage you directly. We have already prepared food, medicine, and even temporary shelters for all of you."
"There's got to be something behind this! Since when has the city ever cared about us? They'll take us away and make us live worse than rats. They'll tame us!"
"My dear fellow, that is rather harsh, isn't it? Worse than rats? Is that really all you have to say to people who came all the way to this dangerous place for your sake?"
At Dmitri's words, the people fell silent.
"Now then, are you really going to waste time standing here arguing with me? As I understand it, your supplies have run out and you've been starving for days. So what are you waiting for? Go and receive the provisions! Go feed your families!"
As Dmitri pressed them again, the people forgot the argument they had been having only moments earlier and rushed toward the supply depot he was pointing at. Before long, the depot was crowded with people jostling and shouting, each trying to get there first and receive more than the others. Watching them from a distance, Dmitri smiled with quiet contempt. April, too, felt uneasy, but she still began helping carry the supplies.
"Hey. What about the Hunters?"
"Regrettably, the Hunters are not under our jurisdiction. Of course, that does not mean we intend to abandon you. I understand that the Ministry of Defense will likely dispatch a new unit soon. Ah, and there is one thing I would like to ask of you. From this point forward, Hunters need no longer concern themselves with the distribution of supplies. The city will handle that directly. One more thing: the civilians here are in a highly sensitive state after losing their homes. They are liable to be swayed by any word spoken to them. For everyone's protection, I ask that from this moment onward you cease contact with civilians. I daresay it may not be such a bad thing for you either, since it saves you one troublesome burden…"
Before Dmitri had even finished speaking, he stepped away from the Hunters and climbed back aboard the helicopter he had arrived in, then left. The autonomous troops he had brought with him remained at the shelter alongside the civilians. The Hunters, effectively driven out of the shelter, were pushed back to the edge of Coral District, crawling with Madmen, where they set up their guard posts. The armored headquarters appointed Nick as acting company commander of the armored unit.