Volume I - Episode 4 Where: Chazov Mountains, Russia When: 1 month and 3 days before E-Day, 11:11 am It's a funny thing about people. We spend our whole lives connecting with the people around us - sharing experiences, forming and breaking relationships, passing judgements. We think we know people pretty well. We think we're good judges of character. We spend all our time getting to know someone we like, and then they get ripped out of our lives. And then, sometimes, the people we never liked at all...they have this habit of surprising us. As the tour guide was explaining to Krystal and Big Steve that they were "probably" safe at this distance from Gorod Drevnih, Yuri Leschova was rounding the corner on his way home from Kraĭ. He liked to photograph the gate first thing in the morning. The Veil had a special quality at sunrise that could not be captured at any other time. He tapped the brake as he rounded the corner a little too fast. Nothing happened. He tapped it again. Nothing. The car picked up speed on the downhill bend. The tyres squealed. Yuri began to panic. His brakes had been fine just moments earlier. Such was the nature of Gorod Drevnih. * * * Krystal posed for the photo, then flinched as someone screamed. She looked to her left and saw a car hurtling down the mountain towards them. It was going way too fast for such a narrow, twisting road. The car started to round the bend...and then slid sideways. Its tyres screeched, bellowing thick blue smoke. The driver tried frantically to turn into the slide. The car fishtailed left, then right...then skidded off the road. Straight at the tourists. Everybody scattered. The air was filled with screams and the sickening crunch of bone on metal. Krystal watched with paralysing terror as the car bore down on her. It ploughed into the throng of people, sending bodies flying through the air in every direction. As she watched, her friend Elina Niemi was struck. (Everybody calls her Lina. She's from Finland. She loves 80's metal and carries around a teddy bear autographed by Def Leppard singer Joe Elliott.) Lina's head slammed into the gravel and split like a grape. The car hit Steve Green. (Big Steve. He's been really nice to me. Whenever the group stays up late talking, he never leaves to go to his room before I do. I think he kind of has a crush on me.) His body spun over the guardrail and plummeted into the ravine below. Then the car was upon Krystal. She tried to jump out of the way, but it was too late. She screamed as the bumper crashed through her shins. There was a loud CRACK! as both legs snapped. She cart-wheeled through the air and landed on her back. Hard. Mercifully, unconsciousness took her. * * * There were hands. Hands on her neck. Krystal tried to shake them off, but the hands just pressed harder. "You have to hold still, Krystal." It was a man's voice. An American man's voice. Robert the Christian. "You may have hurt your neck. Just hold still, help will be here soon." Krystal became dimly aware of something touching her. Her stomach, her waist, her thighs. She looked down and found the second pair of hands belonged to Catherine the Christian, expertly checking her body for open wounds. Suddenly the pain in her legs was overwhelming. Krystal let out a cry and burst into tears. "Just hold on, honey," Catherine said, gently squeezing Krystal's hand. "Everything's going to be fine. Just hold on." There was a warmth in Catherine's voice, and something in her touch...something Krystal could not quite put her finger on. But whatever it was, it filled her with peace. The throbbing pain in her legs seemed to ease. "Tu aimeras ton prochain," Krystal murmured. "Merci, merci..." Thou shalt love thy neighbour. Thank you, thank you... People have this habit of surprising you. The storm clouds raged overhead, unmoved by the scene unfolding beneath them.