End of the Road

She didn’t need his confirmation — she had known all along — but still let out a bitter sigh.

“Look at me. Just look at me, you foolish woman!” he flared up, trying to pull Shicklbraun’s face toward him, but she waved him off, eyes fixed ahead, hands on the wheel. “I held this city's independence alone for twenty-six years. What now?”

“We’ll decide soon, bastard, don’t worry,” Frau Shicklbraun nodded toward the approaching cars.

One stopped in front, another behind, and the third pulled up right next to the driver’s window. Flashing lights dazzled unpleasantly.

“Your documents?” a flashlight beam lit them up again.

“Frau Shicklbraun... May I at least know who you are?”

“Why not…” she turned slightly. “Augusta Shicklbraun, DMZ Level 6 subscriber, Trans-Captain of the DCMSJ, Capital Region of Alderhagen.”

“Department for the Combat of the Misappropriation of Social Justice,” helpfully clarified the officer with the flashlight. “Military Police of Chernostok, Alderhagen Division.”

“Military Police of Chernostok, Le Compostier Division,” a voice echoed from behind.

“Trans-Captain, do you know the way?” asked the one with the flashlight.

“Of course,” Frau Shicklbraun replied, stepping on the gas.

Дед was moved to the back seat, flanked by officers on either side. The three cars followed — front, rear, and flank — in case of sudden maneuvers.

Procedures began in the back seat.

“Are you ******* *******?”

“I am ******* *******.”

“Also known as Дед?”

“I am Дед, yes.”

Place of birth, date of birth — the protocol filled up with tedious facts while the convoy picked up speed. They were clearly far from Chernostok, already well outside the city, speeding down a highway.

“Baltarsk Highway,” confirmed Frau Shicklbraun, voicing what they had all sensed. “Don’t worry, not much further now.”

The pale edge of dawn was indeed rising above the horizon.

Once the protocol was complete, they drove in silence. Дед mumbled incoherently — perhaps praying, perhaps cursing — it was impossible to tell. He only lifted his head when the glow of the sunrise became blinding.

“We’ve arrived. End of the road,” declared Frau Shicklbraun.

They stopped at large metal gates. Beyond them, the asphalt ended — just rusting ruins remained. The place looked like a massive junkyard.

Two men approached the car.

“Access is restricted. Papers, please.”

The two in the back held out IDs in different directions:

“Military Police, Chernostok.”

“We’re too, guys. Access still restricted.”

“Christ…” muttered Frau Shicklbraun, fishing into her pocket. “DMZ, Level 6, DCMSJ for Alderhagen.”

“Go on through.”

“Apologies,” came a voice from behind.

“No, it’s fine. In cases like this, it’s better to lead with lower-level credentials,” Frau Shicklbraun shrugged. 

The metal gates groaned open. Dawn was breaking over the ocean.

“Well, that was quick,” whistled Frau Shicklbraun, glancing back. “Дед, don’t recognize it?”

He shook his head without looking forward.

“What do you mean, no? It is the Baltmetall Factory! The pride of Chernostok, built right by the bay. Well… it was built by folks smarter than you, the ones before you… Ah, to hell with it. Let’s go.”

Dawn light danced over the ugliness of the ruins. Gravel crunched under the wheels. The officers kept trying to coax some recognition out of Дед.

“Come on, really? Don’t you remember? Glorious workshops where steel was forged, proud shipyards that launched vessels the world envied…”

“Boys,” said Frau Shicklbraun, stopping the car. “You’re all absolutely right. But what you fail to understand is just how magnificent this factory was — until this creature” —she nodded at Дед —“ran it into the ground. Anyway. We’re at the border. Military Police can’t go further. Unstrap him and take him to the gates where the convoy stopped.”

The officers looked hesitant.

“Are you afraid for me?” she grinned. “He won’t run. Poke him with a stick and dust’ll come out of every crack. He’ll be lucky to step out of the car.”

They unfastened the cuffs but still eyed her with suspicion.

“Boys… this scum sobbed on my lap.”

“Seriously?” the Alderhagen officer asked in disbelief.

“Dead serious,” Frau Shicklbraun confirmed. “That’s it. Go. Thank you for your service.”

“Much obliged,” they saluted and walked back toward the gates.

“But you,” she turned to Дед with a crooked smile, “you’ve always had a bit of a problem with honor, haven’t you?” She shoved him out of the car.

“Where are we?” he muttered, still staring at his feet.

“You deaf or what? Baltmetall! B-A-L-T-M-E-T-A-L-L!” she enunciated each letter.

Then he looked up.

“A fine factory.”

“That’s right. A fine factory, and Chernostok was a fine city— until you disgraced it with your rule, you swine. Move.”

“Where will the trial be held?” asked Дед.

Frau Shicklbraun pointed toward the pier.

“The pier, huh…” Дед muttered thoughtfully - "and who will judge?”

“The judges’ll be here soon,” Frau Shicklbraun said, squinting toward the horizon.