The Steam Age: Gears and Bones

Chapter 25

Perfit took the insignia and glanced at it, then looked up to the north—this place was still quite a distance from the main city of St. Petersburg, and the city's garrison soldiers shouldn't be so far away.

She examined the collars of the military uniforms worn by the fallen infected individuals one by one, confirming that they were all from the same city defense force.

Judging from the extent of the decay and damage to their uniforms, these soldiers were not infected in the last few days. Rather, it seems they fled the chaos of the city's fall, ran along the post road to this place, but ultimately could not survive the onset of the infection.

However, both the possibility of a rout and being coerced are possible. The rout could be a group of soldiers who ran here in a panic, while the coerced could be someone who was initially infected and wandered aimlessly with the crowd, eventually ending up in this place.

"The numbers on the chests of these men's uniforms all belong to the same division; they are a defeated army," Chertzov said in a deep voice, his tone very certain. "I've been to the defense of St. Petersburg. Their organization is very tight; they won't allow soldiers to leave their posts in a state of war."

The only way to break up an entire organization and send them to this place is if the capital's defenses have completely collapsed.

Perficott was silent for a moment, then returned the insignia to Chernzov.

"Neither possibility is good news." She stood up and gestured to the flag captain. "Keep moving. We need to reach the Predelshinsk district before dark."

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After leaving the blood-stained post road, the group's pace noticeably quickened.

It wasn't because the road was easier to travel—in fact, the road conditions worsened after crossing the edge of the swamp, with more and more cracks appearing on the surface, and several sections of the roadbed even completely collapsing, forcing the carriage to detour time and time again.

But everyone quickened their pace as if they wanted to leave the bodies of the city defense soldiers behind as soon as possible.

Perfit did not stop them.

She knew it wasn't fear, but something more complex.

The fact that the beheaded infected were wearing the uniforms of the Ross City Defence Force was like a thorn in everyone's side.

It wasn't because they were afraid of infected people—they had already seen enough infected people in Langdon's quarantine area.

What truly unsettled them was the significance of those uniforms: the defenses of St. Petersburg no longer existed.

The city's last armed force has become a bunch of walking corpses wandering the edge of the swamp.

The further you go, the heavier this unease becomes.

More abandoned items began to appear on both sides of the post road—not the scattered pieces of junk as before, but piles of things that were clearly left behind during a hasty evacuation.

An overturned ammunition box was half-buried in the snow by the roadside. The bullets inside had been taken away, leaving only the empty box stuck in the frozen mud.

A burned-out artillery carriage lay overturned beside a drainage ditch. The rust on the cannon barrel was as thick as a layer of tree bark, the wheels were burned down to just the iron hoops, and the wooden spokes had long since turned to charcoal.

Further along the road, there was even a row of abandoned tents. The canvas was rotten and riddled with holes, rustling in the cold wind. Outside the tents, there were a few cooking pots and several broken wooden crates.

This is a temporary camp, abandoned around the same time as the wagon in the swamp.

Judging from the number of tents, at least a company of soldiers was once stationed here. But now there's nothing left—no corpses, no weapons, even the ammunition boxes have been emptied of bullets.

"They left in a hurry," Chertzov whispered as he passed the row of tents, "but it wasn't a rout. They cleared everything out, took everything they could. They evacuated according to plan after receiving orders."

Perfico nodded but didn't reply.

She noticed a detail at the edge of the tent cluster: all the tent openings faced the same side of the post road, and the tents maintained a regular spacing, something that defeated soldiers could not have done.

This is a disciplined unit.

But this also means something else: even this disciplined force has withdrawn. What they were guarding either no longer exists, or they themselves know they couldn't hold onto it.

In the next hour, these signs became more and more frequent.

On the wasteland on both sides of the post road, you can see soil that has been turned over from time to time. Some of it is freshly turned over and is darker in color than the surrounding frozen soil. However, the mounds are not high and do not look like they were used to bury corpses. It looks more like something was dug out and then put back in haste.

In several places, you could even see obvious craters on the road, with gravel scattered everywhere and half-frozen muddy water at the bottom.

"They're blowing up the road." Ludwig tapped the edge of the nearest crater with his sword sheath, crouched down and looked for a while. "They didn't use enough explosives; it doesn't seem like it was done by engineers. It's probably a temporary explosion to try and stop their pursuit."

"What's chasing them?" Perfit asked.

Ludwig did not answer. The answer was already in everyone's minds.

After they crossed a low, frozen slope, a fork in the road appeared ahead.

The road sign lay askew on the shoulder, the wood cracked and the lettering faded to almost illegible. Chertzov walked over, knelt down, wiped the snow off the sign, studied it for a moment, and then looked up.

"To the right is the Pridelshinsk district. To the left is the old town outpost."

Perfit stopped at the crossroads. She remembered Chertsov mentioning the name in the cruiser's cabin—Old Town Outpost, an NKVD outpost that had existed for centuries and had never been marked on a map.

If there are any living people in Ross who can guide the expedition, they should be there.

"How far is it from here?" she asked.

Chertzov pointed to the fork in the road on the left, which was much narrower than the main road and was almost swallowed up by the bushes that stretched from both sides.

"It's not far. You can see it in about fifteen minutes by following this road. The outpost is built in a depression. From the outside, it just looks like a row of low houses. You can't find it at all unless you get close."

Perfit looked at the sky.

There was less than an hour until dark, and it wouldn't take long to take this short detour to check on the outpost.

If there are survivors, they will receive the latest intelligence; if the outpost has been abandoned, it will only delay their arrival at their destination by an hour.

"Lead the way," she said.

The old town outpost resembled a tomb more than Perfitt had imagined.

It was indeed hidden in a depression, surrounded by low, frozen slopes covered with withered shrubs, and from the direction of the post road, all that could be seen was a jumble of tree shadows.

But when they reached the edge of the depression, everyone stopped in their tracks.

The air was filled with a strong, acrid smell, not the putrid peat smell of the swamp, but the stench of wood, cloth, and human bodies burned by the high temperature.

The smell lingered heavily in the cold air, almost as if it were stuck to the breathing mask.