Ch.126Chapter 17. Desertion (4)

* * * * *

Though I’ve become somewhat close with Leti, or rather Leticia, meeting her is still complicated. She lives in the “safe zone” within Hampton.

The safe zone is like the yolk in a fried egg, surrounded by yet another barrier within Hampton City.

Naturally, soldiers guard every entrance, which means saying something like “Excuse me, I’m here to bake an apple pie” wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“Caesar. Remember how we first met? That hotel is still there. Let’s do it the classic way. That way, even if we get stopped at a checkpoint, we’ll have something to say.”

The atmosphere inside Hampton had completely changed.

First of all, people don’t walk on the streets anymore. Instead, they’ve placed containers and junked cars with metal plates laid over them to create walkways.

If zombies appeared somewhere, they would push the metal plates down to ground level. For some reason, they were exploiting the fact that zombies don’t jump. Then, citizens would finish them off with their own firearms—bang—and that would be the end of it.

Perhaps due to the fear that anyone could turn into a zombie at any moment, people maintained a certain distance from each other. Even though it was summer, covering one’s face was standard, and they wore slippery outerwear. This way, if bitten by a zombie, they could quickly pull away their clothing.

There were more soldiers visible too. At every intersection, they had set up containers or one-ton trucks with ladders attached to serve as temporary watchtowers. Everyone looked tired, but at the slightest “crack” sound, they would immediately aim their rifles.

At least the Continental Hotel remained intact. However, Fernando was nowhere to be seen.

“That fellow died.”

The person who entered instead was a rather well-dressed man.

“He died?”

“A zombie appeared in one of the Continental rooms. The problem was that it wasn’t just one zombie. He got his arm bitten by another one hiding in the hallway.”

Someone who seemed absolutely unlikely to die had perished. As I stood there in a daze, the man gently placed his hand on my shoulder in consolation.

“Still, he died as a human. After blowing the heads off all the zombies, he enjoyed one last cigarette, saying he would die as a human, and pulled the trigger against his own head.”

“…I see.”

Though I didn’t know him well, he had been a helpful person. The man handed me a box of cigars.

“These were Fernando’s favorites.”

I accepted them gratefully.

* * * * *

It had been a while since I sat at a PC station. It was a place where one could access the black market network, and previously, the seats were almost always full.

But now, hardly anyone was sitting there. There were a couple of people seated, but they weren’t operating the computers—they seemed to be just taking a short rest.

It had been quite some time since new posts appeared on the bulletin board. People no longer had the means to exchange goods. Or perhaps Virginia was controlling things that strictly. Either way, it wasn’t a positive sign.

On the other hand, the VIP bulletin board had many more posts. Actually, the number of posts had increased.

“These prices make no sense.”

Even if the price of premium whiskey had gone up, who would trade it for a box of grenades? More importantly, how would someone easily obtain a box of grenades in the first place?

If I hadn’t arranged things with Leticia beforehand, I would have thought this was madness. I sent a message in a dry tone saying, “I want to exchange.”

Leticia responded plainly with “Meet at Felician Apartments, 201, in Sector 2,” and sent an image of a temporary pass. She added that if I printed it out and placed it on my car’s windshield, the military police would let me through.

* * * * *

It seems Leticia has moved. Her previous place was quite neat, but this one is closer to the bustling area. Seeing people on the streets and armored vehicles with heavily armed soldiers standing guard, the level of security seems completely different.

When I rang the doorbell, the door opened shortly after.

“Leti. Long time no—?”

A completely different person was standing before me. The face was indeed the Leti I knew, but her aura was entirely different.

“…It’s embarrassing when you stare like that, Caesar.”

“Ah, sorry.”

Leti quickly stepped away from the door. I set down the boxes of Minsk wine and whiskey.

“You’ve grown your hair out?”

Previously, she had an asymmetrical bob, but now it was braided to one side. She had also added some waves to her bangs, which flowed down to just below her jaw on both sides of her face. Considering that braided hair appears shorter than its actual length, she must have been diligently growing it.

Even her clothes were different. A white polo shirt, jeans, and brown shoes. Given the photos Leti had sent me before, this outfit was unimaginable in a completely different way. More surprisingly, those jeans actually accentuated her hips.

“Do I look good?”

“The bob was pretty too, but this gives you a completely different vibe.”

“How so? I like specifics.”

She even fidgeted with her hands behind her back, acting shy. She gave off the impression of a modest newlywed. This was completely different from the cheerful, exhibitionist pervert I had known before. Had hardship changed her?

“You seem much calmer now. Confident and stylish enough to make people turn their heads.”

“That’s a compliment, right?”

Though she said that, she turned her face away and smiled shyly. Very “feminine.” She must be setting some kind of trap. There’s no other explanation.

“Ah, let me show you the items first. Please come this way.”

The house was quite spacious. Four rooms and two bathrooms. Unfortunately, it seemed there was no electricity, but I could hear water flowing through the pipes. Each room had candles with safety caps, which added a certain charm.

“Nice place.”

“You think so?”

“It’s bigger and cleaner than your previous home.”

“It’s too big.”

It does seem a bit spacious for one person. But Leticia, standing against the wall with her gaze lowered, murmured:

“So big it’s lonely.”

“Well, you can fill it up.”

“I think Caesar could fill it for me.”

For a very brief moment, Leticia’s eyes sparkled. But she quickly waved her hand and laughed it off, saying, “Just kidding. Just kidding. Let’s look at the items.”

The reagents were packed in cushioning material inside a box. There were also many small but expensive-looking electrical devices, which seemed to be laboratory equipment.

“I included some extras beyond what you asked for.”

“What should I do? It must have cost you a lot.”

“Not really. There aren’t many people looking for these things. With no demand, the price drops. Unless it’s something used for bombs or medical purposes, test reagents like these can be obtained very cheaply. Though the shipping costs have skyrocketed.”

Leticia crossed her arms. I thought about the roads.

“Are conditions that bad?”

“Bad enough to worry. Either the zombies are getting smarter, or only the smart ones have survived.

They form clusters to block roads and surround vehicles. They seem to have figured out there’s food inside.

Also, the frequency of normal people turning into zombies is increasing. Even soldiers… are experiencing these symptoms, apparently. Yet the Disease Control Agency still insists there’s no problem, claiming those people were infected elsewhere.”

Leticia opened the window. A gentle breeze blew in. She gazed outside quietly. Her meticulously braided side hair fluttered in the wind.

She clearly must have practiced this pose quite a bit.

“Caesar.”

“Yes?”

“What’s the world like where you stand? The world beyond the city.”

Well. What with zombies that don’t listen to the person feeding them, Camilla who gets prettier and healthier by the day, and Cassandra who sneaks in at night wanting to conduct “research” or comes in behind Camilla’s back.

“It’s… normal, I guess. More freedom than in the city, but more things to take care of too. You have to protect yourself, after all.”

“But you said you were being threatened.”

“It’s closer to a semi-forced trade, actually. Like this errand for reagents. What would anyone use these for anyway?”

Leticia approached me gracefully. She gently took my arm and then lightly embraced me. Our chests touched lightly.

But something felt strange. This woman isn’t wearing underwear. Her clothes weren’t particularly tight, so I hadn’t noticed until now.

“You’re not pushing me away.”

Leticia, her face flushed, stepped back. There was something strange about her eyes. Like something spinning round and round.

But only for a moment.

“Anyway, you’ll have to stay overnight. You can’t leave the city at this hour anyway. You knew that, right?”

“Of course. I brought a toothbrush and clothes.”

“Then let’s have dinner together. I’ve prepared all the ingredients, so you just needed to bring yourself. You didn’t forget about the meringue, did you?”

* * * * *

Leticia seemed to have prepared quite thoroughly for today.

While flour might be common, I had no idea where she got fresh eggs from. For the sake of her honor, I’ll pretend I didn’t see the “MILITARY USE” stamp on the egg carton.

“Brown or blue?”

I chose the blue apron. Leticia naturally took the brown one. It matched her outfit surprisingly well. Perhaps because it was denim material, like her jeans.

“I’ll handle the measuring, so please separate the egg yolks and whites into these two plates.”

Polish apple pie, “Szarlotka.” I knew about it somewhat from a free game that was popular before. There’s no Poland here, but there is Elsa.

I poured egg yolks into a bowl with flour and sugar, then added margarine from the ice box. The ice box even contained ice. I didn’t bother asking how she managed to make ice.

While I pressed down on the pie dough, Leticia grated apples. This would be the filling. Her hand movements were very skillful.

“You’re good at this?”

“My grandmother used to make this well. I learned by watching over her shoulder. She said it was a recipe passed down through our family, and if times had been better, we could have sold it in Minsk and Römer. I wish she could have lived longer.”

Even while recalling beautiful and sad memories, Leticia forced a bright smile. Yet her hands never stopped. Perhaps because there weren’t many ingredients, she finished grating quickly.

“Ah. Caesar. If you knead like that, you’ll hurt your wrist. Do it like this.”

Suddenly, Leticia pressed herself against my back and grabbed my wrists. As if to show me how, she placed her hands on top of mine and pressed down.

There was hardly any force applied, so it was hard to tell if she was pressing the dough or my hands.

“How is it? Do you understand?”

“I think I get it.”

“You don’t seem to understand. You’re just pressing the same spot. Here, like this.”

Even rush hour subway passengers wouldn’t be this close. Still, the dough was somewhat finished.

“Now, it’s time. Time to whip the meringue. First, roll up your sleeves. You’ll need to move your arms vigorously, and sleeves would get in the way.”

She had ice in the ice box, fresh apples, and eggs, but no electric mixer. Just a single whisk.

I poured the egg whites into a stainless steel bowl and stirred. The egg whites needed to be whipped until they were firm enough that they wouldn’t fall out even if the bowl was turned upside down.

Naturally, my arms ached terribly.

“Ugh…”

Meanwhile, Leticia brought a portable generator and connected it to the oven. She ran the exhaust hose out the window, and with a rumbling start, acrid smoke escaped outside.

All the while, she occasionally glanced my way. I know those eyes. They’re the kind Camilla and Cassandra show me late at night. Eyes that look hungry. Well, I sometimes look that way too, I suppose.

“Your arms hurt, right? Take a short break.”

With a flush on her face and breathing heavily, she subtly moved closer to me again. Of course, she had a good excuse. She needed to add sugar and potato starch to the meringue in portions.

Tap tap tap, tap tap tap.

And then it was back to vigorously moving my arms up and down. With each stroke, white, sticky foam formed in clumps. Leticia swallowed hard and pressed her legs together.

“Mmm…”

She even let out a slight moan before covering her mouth with an “Ah!”

“Ahem. Ahem. I think it’s done now.”

“Huff… huff…”

I was so exhausted and my arms were so numb that I could barely speak. As Leticia approached, the air around us suddenly felt hotter. Her body temperature seemed to have risen quite a bit.

“It turned out well.”

Leticia boldly turned the bowl upside down. The white, firm egg white foam stuck firmly and didn’t fall out.

“White and sticky. Makes me want to taste it. But it would be sweet yet… fishy, right?”

“Um, probably?”

“Indeed, it would be better baked warm. Spreading it thickly on the dough mold…”

Leticia was grinning for some reason. Of course, she hadn’t just been standing around.

She placed the dough I had made earlier into the mold, filled it with the apple mixture, and then scooped up the meringue and spread it smoothly.

It looked a bit too soft. Still, after putting it in the hot oven and waiting, a quite savory smell emerged.

“Ah. I can’t stand it.”

Leticia stretched both arms forward.

“Can’t we eat it now?”

“No. It would be too hot now; it needs to cool a bit. So…”

Leticia picked up one of the bottles of wine I had brought.

“How about an aperitif?”

There was no reason to refuse.