Nadya's Nights: Road to Vengeance

by Indy McDaniel

  Confusion filled Nadya’s face when the tentacles stopped and she paused to see what the monster was doing. Realization hit her when she saw it had herded her around behind it and was now stretching what remained of its form across the length of the room, trapping her inside and severely limiting the amount of space she had to dodge its attacks.

  “Fuck your mother…” Nadya muttered in exasperation. She glanced behind her and saw a set of three windows in the wall leading out onto the street. They were big enough to jump through but she wasn’t looking forward to a two-story fall. She turned back to the monster and absently felt along her body, trying to find any neglected weapons. She’d dropped the knife after smashing the hairspray tip. Her hand fell across a string of roundish items and she looked down.

  The bandolier of grenades.

  She’d forgotten all about them.

  A wide grin crossed her face and she pulled the bandolier off. It looks as if I’ll be making that jump after all. She just hoped there was something relatively softer than a brick road to break her fall.

  The creature slowly came towards her, apparently deciding to trap her as much as possible and then either pummel her to death or maybe just chomp through her.

  Like hell, Nadya thought, lifting the bandolier of grenades up. “Hey, Billy! Know what these are?”

  She brought one of the grenades to her mouth and clenched its pin between her teeth. She yanked the pin clear and spit it to the side.

  “Fuck you, Jelly Boy!” she yelled before hurling the bandolier at the creature. Like everything else, it struck, stuck, and sunk in.

  Knowing that once the first grenade went it would trigger the others and probably bring the whole building down, Nadya had little time. Pushing all fear of heights and worry of smashing her skull on the road out of her, she turned and ran towards the center window.

  Leaping into the air, she brought her knees up to her chest and covered her face with her arms. She hit the glass and smashed through, some shards cutting into her.

  Then she was out of the building.

  Behind her, the creature let out a final bellow of rage before the first grenade blew. The building shuddered and another large chunk of the creature splattered against the wall. Moments later, the other grenades went. A fireball burst from the windows just behind Nadya. The force of the explosion sent her flying even further from the building. Her body spun in the air and as she came down she landed flat on her back on the hood of a parked car on the other side of the street.

  Pain shot up her back and her breath was knocked away. Then she bounced up off the hood and the next thing she knew she was doing a face plant onto the sidewalk. She lay there, groaning and listening to the collapsing building on the other side of the street.

  Finally, after Nadya decided she wasn’t dead yet, she pushed herself up. She leaned against the car for stability. Once she’d recovered a bit more, she found a decent sized rock and smashed the driver side window in. She unlocked the door and slid into the seat. In a minute or two, the car roared to life and she put it into gear and pulled out onto the road.

  Driving away from the burning building, Nadya took a look in the rear view mirror to make sure no pissed off amorphous blobs were chasing after her. When none did, she glanced at herself in the mirror. She had a cut along her forehead, shallow though. It probably wouldn’t leave much of a scar. The worrying thing was her complexion.

  Deathly pale.

  She looked down at her gunshot wound and saw that her shirt and jacket were soaked in blood. Her blood.

  Using her knee to steer, Nadya fished her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed a number she knew by heart. She held it to her ear and listened to the ringing.

  Once it answered, she spoke. “Mission accomplished. Target eliminated.” After a pause, she added, “Medical attention required.”

  On the other end of the line, Vladimir Belikov’s concerned voice replied. “Serious?”

  Nadya took another look at her wound. She was starting to feel light headed. A side effect from the blood loss. Looking back to the road, she gave a half shrug. “More or less.”

  Vlad told her where to go and she was thankful that it wasn’t far. She hung up and focused on her driving, not wanting to get in any fender benders along the way. When she reached the place she was heading, she didn’t even bother trying to parallel park. She pulled the car halfway up onto the sidewalk and shut it off. Reaching across herself, past her wounded arm, she opened the door and slid out.

  The adrenaline of her fight was wearing off and leaving nothing but pain all over her body. She shut the car door behind her and looked through the broken window, noticing all the blood she’d left on the seat. Someone will have to move the car. The shitty parking job is going to draw attention. The blood’ll draw even more.

  The bad kind.

  A wave of dizziness flooded her and she decided it was someone else’s problem. She made for the apartment building she’d parked in front of.

  Looking down the list of names and numbers, Nadya found the one she was looking for – Ulbrecht Reinhardt – and hit the call button.

  A voice responded with a simple, “Yes?”

  “Nadya,” she replied, her voice weak.

  A moment later, the front door buzzed and she reached over to open it, going inside. She rode the elevator up to the third floor and stumbled out. She seemed to be growing weaker by the moment. Finding the room number she was after, she gave what could barely be called a knock.

  The door opened and Nadya caught half a glance of the young man who answered. He was wearing clean, nice looking clothes.

  Too bad I’m going to ruin it with all my blood, Nadya thought as her vision went black and she fell forward.

  She was unconscious before she even felt herself press against the young doctor.

  Chapter Six: Language Barriers

  Nadya awoke suddenly.

  She lay in a small bed with a thick wool blanket pulled over her. The room was dark. She glanced around, trying to see through the shadows. A barrage of feelings struck her at once. Her wounded shoulder throbbed, as did her back. Dragging her able hand from her side up to her shoulder, she also realized she was nude. At least from the waist upwards.

  Anger flared up inside her at the thought of someone undressing her while she was unconscious. She felt the bandage around her wounded shoulder briefly then reached down to confirm she still wore panties. She pushed herself up, holding the blanket to her chest, looking around for her clothes. Pain streaked up her back and she let out an involuntary yelp, falling back onto the bed. She lay there, trying to push the pain away but it was being persistently stubborn.

  Across the room, a door opened, letting light spill into the room and reveal some of its secrets. Nadya looked and saw what seemed to be a more or less clean and well-stocked bachelor pad. She spotted the silhouette of a man entering the room and she tensed, bringing the blanket closer to her chest and trying to look for something she could use as a weapon. The door closed again and the man moved further into the room, clicking on a lamp by the wall.

  The light allowed Nadya to get a better look at his face and she recognized him as the man that had answered the door to the apartment. The doctor Vladimir had sent her to.

  That explains the bandages. But not why I’m mostly naked.

  Her eyes narrowed and she spoke in a low, cool voice in her native language. “Where are my clothes?”

  The man gave her a blank look.

  She tried again in heavily accented English and he seemed to understand better.

  “I had to remove them to treat your wounds,” he told her, also speaking English, although his voice held a German accent. He sat in a chair across from the bed, looking over at her. “I’m afraid the shirt is ruined. The jacket will need mending.”

  “My pants, my boots?” she asked, hostility filling her voice. “My bra? What were wrong with them?” She tried sitting up again, giving him an accusing glare.

&nbs
p; The man raised a hand to try and calm her. “You shouldn’t move much. You may have internal injuries.” The pain in her back was too much to remain in a semi-elevated position so she slumped back into the bed again. But her glare remained locked on him. He seemed to relax a bit when she lay back down. “I had my assistant, Greta, remove your clothes. I wasn’t in the room. She’s going to fetch you something clean to wear now.”

  Nadya’s hostile look faded slightly. But only slightly. She wasn’t sure how much she could trust this doctor. “But you bandaged me?”

  “I only looked at what I had to,” he responded, meekly. He looked very young for a doctor and Nadya guessed he was probably a student. Part of her mind saw him as attractive but it was mostly a label applied to his aesthetics. She wasn’t interested in him sexually. But compared to the assholes she had fought in the pub earlier, he was much easier on the eyes. His behavior was a bit odd to her.

  Almost shy.

  She was used to much firmer people. Their opinions were their opinions and if you disagreed you’d better be ready to put up your fists or get knocked to the ground. He seemed much mellower. She figured that would make him a better doctor.

  “You really should go to a hospital. I don’t have the right equipment here to treat you properly. I was able to give you blood, but if you’ve suffered internal damage, there’s not much I can do here.”

  Nadya shook her head. “No hospital. Not unless Vladimir says so.” Either this ‘doctor’ hasn’t been working for Vladimir long or he’s just stupid. Taking her to a hospital would more than likely cost her life instead of save it. The police would be looking for her by now, or someone at least.

  Anyone admitted to a local hospital with a gunshot wound would fit the bill nicely. Not to mention, anyone related to the woman she’d killed would also be pretty angry with her. She wondered if there were any other monsters working for the dead woman that would be hungry for revenge.

  Nadya still wasn’t entirely sure what the deal with that blob thing had been but it was disturbing and she had a shuddering suspicion that she’d gotten very lucky in defeating it. Thinking back to the encounter was only making her heart pound faster in her chest so she turned her thoughts to other things. “The car,” she stated abruptly.

  The man looked up at her, confused.

  Nadya looked over at him. “The car I came here in. You have to get rid of it. Hide it. If it’s found outside, they’ll come looking for me.”

  The man stood and looked down at her. “I’ll take care of it,” he told her reassuringly then turned and headed back to the door he’d entered through. He stopped as he opened it and looked back at her. “I’m Ulbrecht, by the way.”

  “Nadya,” she responded.

  The man nodded. “I know.” He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Nadya laid back into the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Her arm and back still throbbed but somehow she managed to close her eyes and drift off into a somewhat restless slumber.

  The sound of the door opening again brought Nadya back into consciousness and she looked over to see a young woman entering the room. She had blonde hair similar to Nadya’s, but her shoulders were wider and she had more weight on her. She looked over at Nadya with shyness and held up a stack of clothes, bringing them over to the bed and setting them down for her.

  Nadya thanked the girl and sat up, finding the pain in her back somewhat more bearable if she moved slowly. Sliding her legs off the bed to sit on the edge, she held the blanket to her naked chest, looking up at Greta. The woman looked back, a blank expression on her face. After a moment she got the hint and turned around, looking the other way.

  Nadya dropped the blanket and reached over for the stack of clothes. They were a few sizes too large for her and she assumed the articles came from Greta’s personal wardrobe. She wasn’t going to complain though. No bra in the stack, so she worked the baggy shirt over her head before slowly sliding her bandaged shoulder through and finally her good arm.

  Pushing the blanket further off her and revealing her pale legs and black panties, Nadya grabbed the equally baggy jeans, slid them on and fastened them. Under the pants she found a belt that – thankfully – was more suited to her smaller size. Sliding it through the loops of the jeans, she tightened the belt to the point that it would keep the pants from dropping off of her as soon as she stood up.

  Nadya spotted her boots sitting beside the bed. Her socks were tucked inside. She reached down and pulled the socks out, lifting one leg to rest on her knee as she slid the fabric over her foot. She switched legs and did the same with the second sock.

  Greta turned around as Nadya laced up her boots. She seemed alarmed at the Russian girl’s movements to leave the apartment. “No no, you can’t go,” the young woman spoke in German. “You’re not in any shape to leave.”

  ‘Nein’ was one of the few German words Nadya knew. She looked up at the woman. “I’ll be fine,” she said, trying her accented English out on her, hoping that she’d catch on like Ulbrecht had. Nadya sighed when she didn’t, and kept on speaking in German. Her words came more rapidly and made it impossible for Nadya to follow along at all.

  “You can’t leave,” Greta said to her, shaking her head emphatically. “You’re not well. You must rest. I won’t let you leave. You have to stay until Ulbrecht gets back.”

  Nadya did recognize Ulbrecht’s name.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, boots half-laced. Letting out another sigh, she slid her feet back out of the combat boots. “Fine,” she said in Russian, figuring there was no point in continuing with English since the cow of a girl didn’t speak it. “I’ll wait for Ulbrecht.”

  She lay back onto the bed, slowly to keep her back from screaming in pain at her. She hoped it wouldn’t take the young doctor-in-training long. Even if he wouldn’t let her go, at least she’d be able to talk to someone in a language she actually understood.

  Chapter Seven: No Rest for the Wicked

  Ulbrecht returned about a half hour later.

  Nadya was still lying on the bed, her wounds still throbbing. She’d tried to ask Greta for some pain killers but the woman didn’t understand her in Russian or English and Nadya didn’t know the German word for what she wanted.

  Bitch, cunt, shithead, fucker… she knew all those, and was very tempted to unleash them on the hefty girl but somehow she managed to restrain herself.

  However, she was sure her attempts at keeping from being rude would have failed miserably if she knew how to say ‘disgusting fat cow of a girl’ in German. She muttered it in Russian anyway. Just to see if the girl reacted at all.

  She didn’t.

  It wasn’t even that Greta was fat. Watching her as she moved about the apartment, tidying and moving the tools Ulbrecht had apparently used to save her life back to their rightful places, Nadya could tell that. She had broad shoulders, an expansive bosom and a bit of a gut, but she really wasn’t fat.

  It was mainly that Nadya was in pain. And being unable to communicate that to the woman put her in an even worse mood than she already was. And while she probably shouldn’t take it out on Greta, goddammit, there wasn’t anyone else around.

  The assassin tensed when she heard someone at the door. Her eyes went to Greta, who didn’t seem worried, and then back to the door. She focused on the knob, watching it turn and readying herself just in case she had to jump out of bed and start killing things.

  Then the door opened and Ulbrecht entered the flat. She let out a sigh of relief.

  “I hid the car,” he told her. “No one will track it back here.” He noticed Nadya was now dressed and looking a bit impatient. “You’re wanting to leave?”

  “Would’ve been gone already if it wasn’t for your girlfriend over there,” Nadya said, nodding to Greta, who was sitting at a table with her back to them. She was stitching Nadya’s jacket. She’d tried to tell the German girl to just wash the blood off and leave the holes but it was absolutely no use.

>   Ulbrecht looked over at Greta then turned back to Nadya. “She’s not my girlfriend…”

  Nadya made an attempt at shrugging but her wounded shoulder protested, making her wince. “Whatever… Do you have painkillers? I tried asking Greta but we don’t speak the same language. You should teach her English, at least then she might be more entertaining to talk to.”

  The young doctor-in-training blushed. “Sorry about that. I’ve tried. She’s more of a one-language type of person.” He walked over to a desk and pulled open one of the drawers, taking out a medicine bottle and turning to Nadya, tossing it to her. “Those should help.”

  Nadya caught the bottle and looked at the printing on it. Vicodin. She popped the top and looked inside to see about a dozen of the pills. She put the edge of the bottle to her lips and tilted it back, feeling two of the tabs slide into her mouth. She put the cap back on the bottle and turned to Ulbrecht to ask for something to drink but he was already extending a glass of water. She accepted it and drank a swig, swallowing the pills.