A man runs fast through the woods.
The freezing temperatures of the tiny village in central Siberia made it hard to breathe... It actually hurt to breathe. He was covered from head to toe in protective gear. Without it his blood would stop flowing and frostbite would set in.
He'd been running for so long. He wanted to stop but he couldn't. He had a bullet wound to his shoulder; he needed to remove before infection set in. He was glad he wasn't bleeding profusely, his blood was probably afraid of the cold.
Even through his shielded ski goggles, the bright white snow irritated his retinas.
He was sweating inside the suit and his adrenaline pumped as he ran. He couldn't let them see him. He ran until he saw a stream. He found an overbank and slipped through into it.
As he waited his breathing was labored and he knew he didn't have much time left. With each breath he took, it felt like he was inhaling pins and needles. His nostril hairs were frozen. Pretty soon he would get sluggish from the lack of oxygen. The severe cold could easily slip through a crack in his gear.
His shoulder had gone numb from the pain. He hadn't eaten in a day and even then it was just a can of beans from his pack. This morning he washed down 3 aspirin with the last of his water. The aspirin would help maintain blood flow to his extremities and lower his chances of needing amputations from frostbite. What he wouldn't do for a warm bed and a hot meal right now.
He waited an hour in the dugout and hoped to God they left. He slipped out and noticed the sun had gone down.
Now the clock was really ticking.
Oymiakon was the coldest inhabited place on earth. It was known for recording, -70 degree temperatures. His heavy boots crunched on the hard snow as he walked along the side of the stream. He was sure they were gone now.
Ironically to his left was the infamous Road of Bones created during the Stalin regime. The slave laborers were literally worked to death while building it.
One for every meter... they would collapse and die from the horrible work conditions. Each time a person died, they would just leave them on the road. The barbaric soldiers would simply bulldoze the dead into the mixture.
The Road of Bones got its name from the millions of lives forever engraved inside and all around it.
As the scarce sunlight retreated, it left traces of bright rays on that very path. It gleamed as a reminder; you can try to cover up the past but when the light shines it's impossible to forget.
He couldn't be one of them... one of the fallen. He didn't know where the will to survive came from but he just knew there wasn't any other possibility.
The Evergreen trees mocked him as they stood tall and proud; they carried loads of heavy mushy snow and still remained standing.
Tall and proud.
He looked up towards the clear gray sky and the snow covered ground seemed to mesh together. There was an eerie gray light that bounced from the ground to the heavens.
It was disturbingly quiet. No doubt a reminder that nothing living remained.
He squint his eyes and thought he saw a single smoke cloud coming from the distance. His stride became a little more forceful and he swung his unwounded arm a little wider. He would need the extra blood flow if he was going to make it.
When he finally arrived at the small cabin he was glad it wasn't a mirage. Someone was definitely home and he could almost feel the warmth radiating off the house. He found the entrance and door which had been recently salted and cleared of snow. He pounded on the door with the last strength he had left.
No one answered. He leaned against the door utterly tired and sleepy. With no longer having control of his body, his eyes closed and he blacked out.
___________
When he woke he thought he was in hell.
There was a large fire blaring in the distance. Everything was blurry and the heat was suffocating. He felt like he was swallowing burning coals. He coughed and shook as a chill ran through him.
Why was he so tired? He had a throbbing headache.
He felt so sluggish that he couldn't even open his eyes. But he heard mumbling around him, he couldn't make out what they were saying. He fell asleep again.
When he woke the second time, he felt small warm hands hugging him from behind under the thick blankets. Soft small breasts caressed his back and he thought maybe he wasn't in hell after all.
He tried to move but he couldn't. He slowly opened his eyes and realized he was stripped of his gear and clothes, bathed and wore thermal underwear. The fresh scent of soap invaded his nostrils. He could also smell the delicate smell of the woman behind him.
For the first time he noticed his shoulder was patched and wrapped in a long bandage. He had to move quickly because by now they had found his weapons.
It hurt to move his arm but he succeeded. The small hands still clung tightly to him. He heard a small whimper and he was sure he was dragging her to the edge with him. He had yet to see her.
"Pa-roos-key?" An older man asked who was suddenly hovering over him.
"No, I'm American." The wounded man said.
"Ah... American. You are a far away from home comrade but relax... we are friends here." He said in a thick Russian accent.
The wounded man hesitated as he looked at him but relaxed and said, "Dah."
"I'm Olev," the older man said as his hands pointed to his chest encouraging the stranger to say who he is.
"I'm... Ralph."
The old man chuckled as he knew the stranger was lying. But from the looks of his gunshot wound and the high tech equipment and weapons he carried Olev didn't really want to know too much anyway.
'Ralph' looked down and the small hands were still clinging to his chiseled abs. He looked around and saw a girl no older than 18 looking up at him with dreamy bright blue eyes. Her freckles ran freely throughout her face as her platinum blonde hair topped her head.
"Don't mind Stacia. She practically begged to heat you up. Since the alternative was either my wife or me we thought it would best if the little one did it."
'Ralph' felt himself grin for the first time in a long time. Of course body heat was the best way to raise a person's temperature especially if there are close to hyperthermia.
He looked at her completely freckled face and in a deep voice said, "Thank you."
Stacia widened her eyes and opened her mouth. But as soon as she found her voice she let out a loud pitch scream.
'Ralph' stumbled back thinking he did something to her. Yup, he still had his headache.
"Oh my God... Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God." She chanted. She gripped the sides of her face as she openly stared at his perfectly carved body distinguishable through the thermal.
He looked at Olev and the old man rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.
"This is a small town Comrade; we don't have people that look like you. But come you must drink and eat something. I cleaned up your wound as best as I could and extracted the bullet. You are lucky... many have died just being outside in the freeze. Here try on these clothes."
'Ralph' clasped Olev's arm and nodded in appreciation.
Olev gave him some large sweatpants and sweater to wear. The pants were too short on Ralph's tall body but it would have to do. He still felt weak but felt better overall. His shoulder was sore but it was nothing he couldn't handle, he'd been through worse.
Olev's wife, Larissa, placed a large bowl of warm chicken soup and a chunk of bread in front of him and a mug of aromatic tea. As he sat at the modest table, his heart warmed thinking how these people have treated a total stranger.
"Thank you for your hospitality."
Larissa looked at the handsome stranger and smiled. She wondered what his story was but knew her husband would find out. Tall, dark and handsome indeed... He would surely make some woman happy with that tanned body; it looked like it was sculpted by the gods. And those blue-green eyes and long thick eyelashes were any woman's envy.
'Ralph' turned his head to the left and came face to face with Stacia's freckles.
Jesus! She scared the living daylights out of him. This girl was quiet as a mouse. She should go into my profession, he thought.
Olev cleared his throat, "Stacia leave the man alone."
She slowly nodded in a daze; but it was obvious she didn't hear him. She had pushed herself against him that she was almost in Ralph's soup. She inhaled and exhaled swooning over the gorgeous stranger.
"Sorry, we were finally able to see the movie Thor and she thinks you look like a bald tanned version of him."
'Ralph' chuckled and his blue-green eyes glimmered. He looked nothing like Thor. But who cares? This place was so isolated; he was surprised to find a teenager here. But he needed to focus and find what he came for.
"Do you know Mikhail Popov?"
