Глава 16

Death may be inevitable on the path we chose, but it should never have happened this way.

Watch. Remember the lesson, and remember that the one about to take the life of this man is the one least qualified to do so.

I am executing him, on the wishes of the victims, and on my own decision.

This will be the last decision I make as leader. No one should bear the burden of killing his own comrade. Therefore...

Repent...

Sin.

The snow has piled up on Hawley's shoulder. He kneels on the ground, as though he did not hear any of what Rankin said, and puts his hands together in front of his chest in a gesture of piety.

He looks up, and exposes his neck to the executioner.

Yes... I must repent my sins. I shall do the deed.

(Whisper) <i>Do vstrechi</i>, Hawley.

Gah!

Damn... I thought I could at least put this mirror together. Now it's gotten even more broken.

Talk about unlucky.

Can't we at least take Hawley's body, Rankin?

No.

What use do they have for a dead body? Do they want to leave it out in the wilds...

We're not in any position to negotiate.

Besides, all of you may come to the same end if you continue to follow me.

What do you mean?

Who do we follow, if not you? Now's not the time for jokes.

It's not a joke. It's a decision.

A decision that I already talked about.

Rankin turns around. The tired, unkempt crowd immediately gather around him, simply because he is here.

They look towards their leader, blankly waiting for the next instruction.

Do we keep going south, Rankin?

I don't have any strength left. I just wanted a roof over my head that could keep the snow away, but we don't even have that anymore, do we?

We'll die if we keep going...

We'll die if we stay.

I couldn't find them, Rankin.

Pavel and Bogina... I never found them, not even their bodies. I'm sorry.

The villagers didn't want me anywhere near them, not even when I put down my pickaxe. They're afraid. You could see it on their faces from a mile away.

I didn't want to threaten them. Let's go, Rankin.

Take us away.

Rankin scans each face in the crowd, whether they spoke or not.

I'm sorry, friends.

Rankin?

I can't decide your path going forward.

As I said, it was not Hawley who should have been punished; it was me.

I was the one who drove him to madness and violence. It was my decisions that drove him to desperation.

Before this happened, I didn't even realize that not everyone was ready to look death in the eye.

There's no longer any doubt. I don't have what it takes to be a leader. My last and best act as leader is to relinquish this position...

And give you back the power of choice.

Silence.

Long silence.

No one answers. Hardly anyone even breathes, not so much a twitch on their faces.

All who hear the decision are silent, until a trembling voice emerges from the end of the procession.

You're... abandoning... us?

No, Vetochki.

Then, what? What you said... how do we, understand it?

The crowd parts for the one who asked the question.

Vetochki does not move forward. She stands where she is, her fists clenched so hard that her knuckles have turned white.

You say, you won't lead, anymore! After we've come, so far?

Y-You're abandoning, all of us.

I'm not! I must do this, before things get worse for everyone.

No more lives must be lost because of my foolish decisions. We didn't escape from the mines, that hellhole, for this.

H-Hellhole? But it's, my home.

What do you mean?

The mines, mining district, is my... home.

It was, many people's, homes.

Home? I thought you all wanted out, like me.

It's because, of trust. We trust, you—Rankin.

You... you didn't, know?

I thought you chose to leave because you've wanted to for a long time.

You killed, the black bugs. You stood up, and said we, should leave, so... we left.

You caught Hawley, killed him, and said, it was wrong, to leave. You said, it is, a choice.

I-I don't understand! What are we, to you?

Friends, family... it's complicated and hard to define. But it's exactly because you're important to me that—

This is, the home, of the villagers.

Maybe they can, rebuild the village. What about us? Where do... we go?

You took us, so far. If you don't, lead anymore...

How do, we go—go back?

Rankin, tell me...

How do, we live?

Vetochki.

No. The way you, call me. You're treating me, like a child. I-I'm not.

You're not, talking back.

You just proved what I had only guessed.

What?

All I've done up to this point was to force my ideas on you. You didn't understand my plan, you didn't understand the meaning behind my actions.

You trusted me, not your own choices. What will you do when I'm not around to lead you?

I appreciate your trust, but this isn't right.

I'm going to tell you what's happening, and then you can make your choice.

Rankin once again scans each face before him, making sure that he has everyone's undivided attention.

Our ultimate goal is to reach the Kazimierzian border, and find the village of the Infected. In the process, though, this journey must become a reason for Ursus to recognize us.

But it will put us in grave danger, because it challenges the very foundation of the Empire.

People before us have tried and failed, leaving behind nothing but a symbol and a name, on this snowy, swampy tundra.

What if I told you that following me might mean following in their footsteps? It's not something I would recommend for anyone who wants to live, anyone with a brain.

But I never even gave Hawley a choice. That's why he's dead.

He showed me that I must return the choice to you.

The crowd does not answer, but there is some faint commotion.

Slowly, the crowd begins to split. Some stand next to Rankin or behind him, others in front of him.

When do we leave, Rankin?

Once everyone has made their choice.

More and more people move towards Rankin, their footsteps like the delayed ringing of the bell, announcing the end of a shift.

One, two, three... one miscount may mean one more soul lost to the mines.

Who doesn't, want to live?

Why do we, have to choose?

I-I...

Vetochki can feel them growing more and more distant.

She subconsciously takes a step forward, trying to hold on to something, but someone grabs her and stops her in her tracks.