The couple checked the map of Cold War-era blast bunkers that city officials have dusted off as Russian troops mass at Ukraine’s borders. They found the shelter for their block, but it was occupied. By a strip club.

“Will they charge us 400 hryvnia [about $14] to get in?” asked Anastasia, referring to the regular cover charge at the Penthouse Club, which on a recent night cast a red neon glow across the snowy sidewalk of her apartment building.

Like a growing number of Ukrainians, the Kirienkos, both 35, have tried to heed the increasingly dire advice they see on social media: Pack a bag, plot escape routes, make a plan. Their vital documents are ready to grab-and-go if the air-raid warning goes off.

Only, they’re not sure they would recognize one of Kyiv’s long-dormant Soviet-era sirens if they heard one. Or if the horns will even work. They heard nothing at all during a recent supposed test of the system.