"Draft" by Sergey Lukyanenko. 

"The most annoying thing was the rain, which started with a new force and became very cold. I turned on the recorder for the last time, pressed the mobile phone to my ear. "Face the convenience store. Turn right. Walk thirty steps," a polite stranger's voice said. I got up, turned around and went - into a stunted forest belt stretching along an embankment with tracks. The muddy clay earth clung to the soles of the soles, cascades of spray fell from the bare branches. A squat brick tower loomed out of the darkness. There are a lot of such old water towers along the railroad. Probably, they were built back in the days of steam locomotives, to fill huge boilers… However, the year "1978" was laid out in white brick on this tower. There were no steam locomotives at that time. Although one friend told me that the locomotives are still preserved in the depot — there is no more reliable transport in case of war or other cataclysms. - Ow-ow! I called softly. — Who called me?  Silence. Cold rain sows from the sky, respectable citizens sleep in their beds, alcoholics and intellectuals drink in kitchens, homeless people have warmed up in basements and attics in an embrace with yard dogs. All people are like people, I'm the only one in wet pants and in search of adventures. No one responded. No one was in a hurry to explain to me exactly what was going on—well, or to hit me on the back of the head with a baton.