The next day, near the bridge

Mid-day. We’re moving through the forest. Dadonov said we were close the last time he checked his map. It’s still cold, but the snow has stopped falling. We cut through a field far behind an old farmhouse. I hate the feeling of dread open spaces give me.

A metallic clank stops me in my tracks as we pass by a small shed.

“Stop!” I yell out in a hushed voice and drop to a knee, pointing my rifle towards the shed. “I heard something.”

“Then go check it out!” Smirnov growls at me.

Cautiously, I come to my feet and edge closer to the shed, ready to shoot if the need arises. Smirnov is probably crossing his fingers that I’m about to have a hole blown in me. I see a bucket laying on the ground, and figure that might be what I heard. Nobody seems to be around.

“Look in the shed.” Smirnov orders. “Your boyfriend can help you.”

I give Smirnov a dirty look, and Artyom comes over to me. He aims his rifle at the door.

“Open the door on the count of three.” Artyom whispers to me. “One… two… three.”

I pull the door open and a farm boy looks down the barrel of a 7.62 millimeter rifle. Artyom puts his rifle down.

“It’s just a fucking kid!” He says, slinging his rifle across his back.

The boy shrieks loudly.

“Whoa!” I say, “Quiet!”, before he starts running from us.

“Get him!” Smirnov yells.

We take chase. Artyom closes on him and picks him up by his armpits. “Easy buddy!” He says. “Easy!”

“Listen here you little bastard!” Smirnov growls as he reaches us. “You don’t say a-”

“What the hell is going on here?” Dadonov asks as he catches up to everybody. We all look at him. Artyom holds the boy by the shoulders.

“We found this little shit in that shed.” Smirnov explains. “He wanted to run away and tell them where we are.”

“He might now after meeting you.” Dadonov says. “Now the big question is, what the fuck do we do now?”

“We should just kill him.” Smirnov suggests.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Dadonov roars at him. “How could you even suggest that? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“So you’re just going to let him go and run away.” Smirnov argues. “You’ll kill every last one of us.”

“We can take him with us until we’re done.” Dadonov suggests.

“Why?” Smirnov asks. “So he can squeal out and give away our position?”

“Then we leave him here.” Dadonov says.

“That’s your big plan?” Smirnov criticizes. “Do nothing? At least tie him up.”

“No.” Dadonov snaps. “This time of year, that’s as good as killing someone. He stays here.”

Dadonov gets down on a knee in front of the boy and looks at him eye to eye. “Listen, son.” He says. “We’re going to let you go, but remember that we’re on your side. We’re fighting for you. With that said, I’d like to ask you not to tell anybody that you saw us.”

He nods.

“Let him go.” Dadonov orders. Artyom lets go of his shoulders and steps back. The boy cautiously starts walking away from us, not taking his eyes off of us. He starts to walk faster and faster, before turning his back and running away from us.

“Our blood is on your hands.” Smirnov growls at Dadonov.