06 A Bad Idea

The subway in Kyiv was running, but the nearest subway station, about a 25 minute drive, was bombed earlier; if we could make it to the next one, we could still try to get to the train station.

To get there, we had to cross a military checkpoint and then walk about 2 hours. We checked that there were a few shelters on the way, because we didn’t know if staying out for more than a few minutes was safe. We would take the subway to the train station, and board a train to Lviv. We bought tickets for that, and tickets for a different train to Rivne. What are we going to do if the subway service stops? If they bomb the train station? What if we can stop by our apartment? We contemplated many scenarios.

One of our scenarios included going back to our apartment to pick up a couple of documents we forgot. We meticulously planned every step, we agreed we were going to be in there for 20 minutes at the most. I would grab some specific documents, she would collect the rest. I was going to the kitchen to try to salvage some food, and to put all the trash and fridge contents I could into a bag that we would dump on our way out. I didn’t need any more clothes but she needed a couple of pieces, after the documents, she would toss her clothes and I would put them in the bag. Then we would be out.

We envisioned also the steps we would take once we got to the train station, or in case we couldn’t catch one train and caught a different one, etc. We tried to be ready for everything.

Earlier in the day, our relatives told Rita many times that leaving was a bad idea. They were scared of crossing the military checkpoint, and there were rumors of scattered russian soldiers or russian saboteurs through the forest areas that surrounded the neighborhood, mostly because Ukrainians were stopping everyone who tried to cross the woods or was driving through. They were also worried about the rest of the way, which was an estimate 10-15 hours by train.

By now, we had read that the explosions were likely Ukrainian air defense rockets, either defending the area near us, or trying to shell the Russians and stop their advance, however, we were the next town after Bucha and Irpin, names now forever associated with the atrocious war crimes that russians committed. We were just about 10km from where Russians were going to start digging mass graves a few days after we left.

I went to the dimly lit living room and had a word with Stas, one of two higher authorities in the house. He speaks English.

“Hey Stas, so we decided we’re gonna leave tomorrow morning.”

“Leave? Didn’t Rita tell you about the soldiers that are now in the forest? Where will you go?”

“Yes, she told me. I don’t know where we’re going but we’ll head West, we will try to get out of Ukraine.”

“I don’t understand, you’re crazy.”

“I know, is just that we’re too tired of all this. We just need a small favor, we need you to drive us to the check point.”

“And then what are you going to do?”

“We can walk from there to the subway. It’ll take us to the train station. If you can drive us, it would save us like 40 minutes, and you don’t have to leave the neighborhood, you can just drop us, turn around and come back here.”

“You are crazy… but ok, me and Zhenya will drive you.”

I thanked him and went back to our bathroom. I told Rita that everything was ok, and that we were going to get out of there in the morning.