When he stepped away, one guy came out from among the group and slowly, as though with effort, made his way over to Artyom. He spoke so timidly that at first Artyom didn’t recognize the thickset bearded man who had threatened him at Sukharevskaya.

‘Listen… it isn’t good that we’ve stopped here. Tell him, we’re afraid. There are a lot of us but anything can happen… Damn this tunnel, and damn this station. Tell him we have to go. You hear? Tell him… please.’ And he looked away and hurried back into the crowd.

This last ‘please’ made Artyom shudder. He was unpleasantly surprised by it. Taking a few steps forward so that he would be closer to the group and could hear the general conversation, he immediately realized that there was nothing left of his previous good mood.

In his head where a small orchestra had just been playing a bravura march, it was now empty and quiet and he could only hear windy echoes despondently sounding in the tunnels that lay before them. Artyom went quiet. His whole being had frozen, tensely waiting for something, sensing an inevitable change in plans. And he was right. After a fraction of an instant it was as if an invisible shadow swooped in above them and it became cold and very uncomfortable, wiping away all the feelings of peace and confidence which had settled upon them when they were walking through the tunnel. Now Artyom remembered Khan’s words about the fact that this wasn’t his mood, not his joy, and that a change in circumstances did not depend on him. He nervously turned his flashlight in a circle around him: an oppressive sensation of premonition had piled on top of him. The dusty white marble flared before him dimly, and the dense black curtain under the arches wouldn’t be pushed backwards in spite of the panicky flashings of his light. This strengthened the illusion that the world ended beyond the arches. Unable to control himself, Artyom almost ran back to the others.

‘Come to us, come, brother,’ someone whose face he’d never seen before said to him. They, apparently, were also trying to save the batteries of their flashlights. ‘Don’t be afraid. You’re a person and we’re people too. When things like this go on, people have to stick together. Don’t you think?’

Artyom willingly acknowledged that there was something in the air. Because he was scared he was unusually chatty, and he started to discuss with the people of the caravan his worries, but his thoughts kept returning to Khan’s whereabouts. The man had disappeared over ten minutes before and there was no sign of him. Indeed he knew himself that you shouldn’t go into this tunnel alone, you should only go together. How could he have gone off like that, how could he have dared to defy the unwritten law of this place? He couldn’t have simply forgotten it, or just decided to trust his wolf’s sense of smell. Artyom couldn’t believe that. After all Khan had spent three years of his life studying this tunnel. And it didn’t take that long to learn the basic rule: never go into the tunnel alone…

But Artyom didn’t have time to consider what might have happened to his protector up ahead before the man himself appeared noiselessly at his side, and the people were reanimated.

‘They don’t want to stop here any longer. They’re scared. Let’s go on, quickly,’ Artyom proposed. ‘I also feel something’s not right here…’

‘They’re not scared yet,’ Khan assured him, looking behind him, and Artyom suddenly realized that his hard, husky voice was quivering. Khan continued, ‘And you also don’t know fear yet so let’s not waste breath. I am scared. And remember I don’t use words lightly. I am scared because I dipped into the station’s gloom. The Guide wouldn’t let me take another step, otherwise I would have undoubtedly disappeared. We can’t go any further. Something lies ahead… But it’s dark there and my vision doesn’t penetrate and I don’t know what exactly is awaiting us there. Look!’ He lifted the map up to their eyes with a quick motion. ‘Do you see? Shine your flashlight on it! Look at the passage from here to Kitai Gorod! Don’t tell me you don’t notice anything?’

Artyom scrutinized the tiny section of the diagram with such urgency that his eyes hurt. He couldn’t make out anything unusual, but he didn’t have the courage to admit it to Khan.

‘Are you blind? You really don’t see anything? It’s all black! It’s death!’ Khan whispered and jerked back the map.

Artyom stared at him cautiously. Khan again seemed like a madman to him. He was remembering the stuff Zhenya had told him about going into the tunnel alone, about the fact that whoever survived the tunnel would go crazy from fright. Could this have happened to Khan?

‘And we can’t turn back either!’ Khan whispered. ‘We managed to get through while there was a benevolent mood in there. But now the darkness is unfurling and a storm is brewing. The only thing we can do now is to go forward but not through this tunnel, but through the parallel one. Maybe it’s clear right now. Hey!’ he shouted at the others. ‘You’re right! We need to move on. But we can’t go along this route. There’s destruction and death that way.’

‘So how are we going to move on?’ asked one of them in puzzlement.

‘We’ll cross the station and go through the parallel tunnel – that’s what we have to do. And as soon as possible!’

‘Oh no!’ someone in the group burst out. ‘Everyone knows that you don’t take the reverse direction tunnel if the one you’re facing is clear – it’s a bad sign, certain death! We won’t go in the left-hand tunnel.’

Several voices agreed. The group shuffled their feet.

‘What’s he talking about?’ Artyom asked Khan.

‘Apparently it’s native folklore,’ he said and frowned. ‘The devil! There is absolutely no time to convince them and I don’t have the strength to either… Listen!’ he addressed them. ‘I’m going into the parallel tunnel. Whoever trusts me can come with me. The rest of you, goodbye. Forever… Let’s go!’ He nodded at Artyom and picked up his rucksack, which was heavy in his hands, and climbed up onto the edge of the platform.

Artyom was frozen with indecision. On the one hand, Khan knew things about these tunnels and the metro in general that far exceeded human understanding, and you could rely on that. On the other, there was the immutable law of these accursed tunnels that you could only go through them with a certain number of people because that was your only hope for success…

‘What’s up there? Too heavy? Give me your hand!’ Khan extended his palm down to him and got onto his knees.

Artyom really didn’t want to meet his gaze at that moment. He was afraid to see that spark of madness he had been so frightened to see flashing in the man’s eyes a few times before. Did Khan understand that he was rejecting the warning calls of not just the people here but of the tunnel itself? Was it enough just to feel the nature of the tunnel? The place on the map, the Guide, at which he’d pointed wasn’t black. Artyom was ready to swear that it was a faded orange colour, like all the other lines. So here was the question: which of them was actually blind?

‘So? What’re you waiting for? You what, don’t understand that a delay will kill us? Your hand! For the devil’s sake give me your hand!’ Khan was yelling but Artyom slowly, with small strides, stepped away from Khan, still staring at the floor, and moved closer to the grumbling group.

‘Come on, brother, come with us, no need to hobnob with that jerk, you’ll be safer here!’ he heard from the crowd.

‘Fool! You’ll perish with them all! If you don’t give a shit about your life then at least think of your mission!’

Artyom summoned the courage to finally lift his head and set his gaze on Khan’s dilated pupils, but there wasn’t the fire of madness in them, only desperation and fatigue.

He started to doubt himself and he paused – and at that moment someone’s hand came lightly down onto his shoulder and it softly pulled him.