Strelok emerged from the cramped service exit manhole into the damp grey mist of the Pripyat morning. His leg was still aching as he pushed himself up to standing, hardly feeling ready to sprint for safety at a moment's notice. At least the damp feeling of the fog from the river had pushed away the hypnotic visions. As he let the refreshing cool air fill his lungs, the sound of his breath seemed to dominate his hearing. After the echoing footsteps of the tunnel the ghost city was as silent as the grave it was.
The indistinct shadows of imposing buildings loomed in the mist, and his only bearing to go on was the weak circle of the sun pressing through the cloud. He stood there couple of minutes, letting his leg rest and mentally preparing himself for the next leg of the journey. This side of Pripyat was quite a way from the old Monolithian strongholds around the city centre and one of the most isolated and desolate parts of the Zone, full of powerful anomalies. He'd walked the length of it before without seeing a single living creature, but out there, in the buildings and stalking the streets, were some of the most deadly mutants you'd ever encounter. The chances were any stalkers still in these parts would be equally as dangerous.
He savoured a final deep breath of fresh air before pulling the perspex visor hood of his SEVA suit over his head and walking carefully out into the unknown.
Even though the gently rolling hills of woodland extended far to the horizon, broken in places by a variety of strange alien structures, Stormchaser had never felt so restricted while in the air. The commander had explained to her personally about the dangers these "anomalies" could present when in the air, where the wind masked the sounds they gave off, leaving only scant traces of unnatural ripples or veins of lightning betraying the deadly things that had claimed the lives of many of the scouts who'd been here before her.
She awkwardly beat her wings in a half-hover, trying to drift slowly forwards just above the tips of the trees following the road North they were taking. All her experience with covert flight hadn't been this restrictive, the idea of all sorts of invisible dangers in the air was like something out of Discordian nightmare. It was certainly the first time the intensive extra flight training she'd needed half a decade ago to graduate into the Princess' personal guards was being put to the test.
The rust-red foliage below her, not unlike the autumnal trees back home at first glance, held no rest or refuge. Apparently the forest was far worse than the grassy hills the original exploratory teams had been based from, though it was hard to say how in detail given how few of the ponies sent to investigate it came back. Even so, when she peered closely through the leaves she could see sinister tendrils of dark ivy hanging from lots of the gnarled boughs, apparently covered in corrosive slime. She wasn't willing to test that out.
And the strange snuffling sounds that occasionally broke the quiet rustle set her teeth on edge. She could see the indistinct shapes moving fast below her at times, long-legged and leaping around in the gloom below the canopy, but they seemed to quickly lose interest and retreat for a while before returning once more.
She paused her slow flight, her wings starting to ache from slowly hovering continuously for well over an hour now, trying to gauge how far she'd come ahead of the rest of the party by following the cleft the road made through the thinning trees at the edge of the forest. The damn place had little in the way of landmarks nearby otherwise. A couple of miles north a blocky brick tower broke the treeline, in what could be a clearing, and further to the north-east a whole town seemed to be resting between two hills on the other side of the river, but between them and where they'd exited the valley that morning was just endless forest. She could roughly make out the curve of the road from the gaps in the trees as it snaked back, and estimated she must be about a half-mile or so ahead of the rest of them. No magical flare had been sent up though, so they must still be progressing fine.
Turning and hovering down closer to the tops of the trees by the side of the road, she stared along it as it straightened up to head decisively onwards north. Several strange alien shapes, vehicles made of metal similar to ones they'd seen earlier, littered the road on both sides. They all looked rusted and ruined, as the others had been before, from her limited knowledge of machinery. Whatever ways they built these things was far beyond anything in Equestria. Her hunter's eyes scanned back and forth along the length of the road, eventually noting several of the strange air disturbances dotting one of the vehicles, when a small burst of movement caught her eye.
It was at the far end, gone as fast as it had came, disappearing behind one of those long metal tube vehicles. A shiver went up her spine, it wasn't dissimilar from those horrific four-legged creatures snuffling and leaping around further back in the forest. Thankfully the brick wall by the road seemed to have dissuaded them from straying outwards, at least so far. Still, whatever it was hadn't re-appeared yet. As the minutes ticked by, she cursed this awful land again, not being able to land and hide in the branches of these diseased trees. Her wings were definitely aching now, the feeling of being cut off from the natural magic of Equus was noticeably taking it's toll. The commander had said they'd be returning in shifts to recharge but when they'd have the opportunity wasn't clear.
Even training her eyes on the suspicious metal thing in the distance, she nearly missed the tiny object, being tossed out from behind it back towards the trees as the road curved away in the distance. She hadn't caught what it was, just black and rectangular. It wasn't long before something started shifting in the trees where it had been thrown to, moving around. The hairs on her neck and back prickled. This wasn't the animal savagery of the things she'd spotted earlier, her gut told her there was something going on here watching her. It had all the hallmarks of a trap.
It didn't make sense though, there were possibly better locations she could see in the maze of vehicles and she assumed whatever it was had seen her. They knew the natives had powerful long-range weapons; she knew was vulnerable flying like this even if they tended to ignore ponies if they could. She dipped lower, obscuring herself behind the treetops, when a figure suddenly stepped out into the road in the distance from the trees. It was tall and thin, bipedal, matching the description of the natives. Before she could take in any more detail it's hands went to it's head, pulling back the hood. A bright purple face emerged, with a pointed horn and shock of bluey-purple hair. Stormchaser's breath caught in her throat.
Yar gingerly walked through the ajar northern gates of the power plant complex. Even having seen it not long before it was still as deeply unsettling. The faint whispers of wind were the only sound in the industrial graveyard. He'd lingered a little before, taking in the legendary sight, but now the fear was stronger, pushing him into quick, deliberate stride across the concrete westwards. His heart was beating faster just from passing through the gate, and the steady beat was impossible to ignore as he paced onwards, setting him on edge. His head was constantly turning, scanning the deserted roads and buildings compulsively. When he saw the dark shape appear from the emerging face of one of the distant buildings the sudden thudding of his heart and cold sensation covering his body went almost unnoticed.
A humanoid shape, but far larger than any human, was ambling out from the concrete building in the distance, looking like a massive, hairy bloodsucker. He was still transfixed, recovering from the fear, as it half-turned and suddenly winked out of existence. His brain took a half-second to get into gear realising he was now top of the menu, and almost stumbling he broke into a sprint in the opposite direction. As his lungs and heart ached at being forced into overdrive, matched by the shocks on his overladen legs, he scanned the buildings ahead of him for some kind of salvation. The nearest was a blank face of concrete, with nothing but a single door. One further on more to his left however had an old ladder attached, and one of the many raised concrete bridges carrying all sorts of pipes to the main sarcophagus.
Without hesitation, he altered course, pumping his legs as hard as possible. The dull slaps of his bootsoles punched through the sounds of his heaving overworked lungs, masking whatever noise the thing somewhere behind him would be making. It was impossible to judge just how long it was taking, but nothing registered beyond a rising headache and the pain of pressing his body forwards as he sprinted onwards towards the looming grey face the ladder was attached to.
There were glimmers of hope threatening to break through the pain in mind and body as he crossed the final few meters bringing it into reach, but without delay he launched himself at it, heaving and pulling himself up rung by rung with his arms helping his weary legs to get off the ground. His panting and clanking of boot of metal filled the air as he went, his agonising mind forcing his body up and up until suddenly the grey wall broke into cloudy grey skyline and he tumbled over the lip of the wall onto the roof of the building. In a half-exhausted scrabble he wriggled to bring his rifle to bear, clutching it pointed at the top hoops of the ladder. He lay there for a few moments, lungs desperately trying to get his breathing under control, hands in a death grip around the grips of his Dragunov until it finally registered that the only sounds were those of his own panting breaths. The headache and blurred vision was receding a little, but even so it felt like the insidious influence of a controller's mind control powers were still clawing at the edges of his sanity.
He already felt pretty spent, damn age catching up to him, but this was no time to dawdle. Turning his head to scan the rooftop, he saw a couple of rusty old barrels sitting in a far corner. In as quick as a pace as he could manage he walked backwards towards them, keeping his rifle trained on the ladder until he got within reach. It seemed it wouldn't, or couldn't, climb up after him but he wasn't going to take chances. Quickly slinging his rifle, he grabbed one in each hand and dragged them back to the top of the ladder, leaning them on it. Hopefully it'd knock them over trying to sneak up after him. Peering down, he couldn't any telltale blurring of the air nearby giving away it's location, and the headache gradually faded.
Sitting on the edge there for a moment, he let the adrenaline drop a little before considering his next move. The thing was still down there somewhere, no doubt still aware of where he was and lying in wait. The only route lay along the long raised bridge of concrete carrying various pipelines to the old factory. He could walk along it to where it joined another outbuilding adjacent to the plant, and perhaps climb up there. It looked quite a height to get up at the end though, possibly beyond his reach. There were dense clusters of buildings next to it, all along the wall of the main NPP chambers, connected by myriad walkways and gantries. He'd be able to make his way a sizeable distance towards the west end of the plant without touching the floor, where that thing would be hunting him.
Sitting there, trying to plot a course through his binoculars, he still wasn't happy. Even if he got as far as he could atop the outbuildings, whatever the bloodsucker-like creature was would still be in a prime position to run him down. His basic gas-mask and geiger counter combined with the years of experience had done the job at letting him dodge the radiation pockets skirting the power plant, but trying to find a door to force his way inside sounded like too much for them. He'd had the privilege of meeting Strelok a couple of times over the years, and noted the well-worn, heavily improved SEVA suit he wore. Even so, he carefully picked out a couple of promising doors high up on the side that might be accessible, if only to take shelter from an emission. He was toast if he got caught exposed like this.
It'd been a while, and so far there'd be no sight or sound of whatever had pursued him earlier, so he went back to looking at the far end of the bridge, trying to gauge the height he'd have to pull himself up to reach the next rooftop. Pulling a barrel all the way to use as a step wasn't ideal. Moving back and forth, comparing it to the size of various railings, a flash of motion caught his eye. Something was disturbing the air in front of the ledge now. He swore there hadn't been an anomaly there before, and he'd never-
His blood ran cold and he placed the binocs on the floor immediately, pulling his rifle round hastily. It'd worked out the same conclusion as him, and found it's way up. Without any delay he raised the SVD to bear and eyed down the scope. Sure enough there was something wrong with the air now along the bridge, now far more agitated than before. Taking a second to clear his mind and pause his agitated breathing, he pulled the trigger.
The deafening crack of the rifle split the silence, and only his sniper's experience with his weapon let him control the recoil enough to know he'd missed and immediately pull back down to search for the blurry air.
As soon as his crosshair drifted across it he pulled again, another crack ringing in his ears, but this time a spurt of blood and flicker of indistinct brown flesh filled his heart with relief. It was no time for complacency though, and with no celebration he steadied is arms once again, sighted and sure enough, bloodstains and a barely-visible, translucent shape were barrelling along the concrete bridge at an alarming pace.
With more to go on this time, he pulled across ahead of hit, anticipating it's motion, let his heart steady, and a third deafening report broke the silence. A puff of blood and a flail of a limb caught in the scope as the rifle recoiled, and something flickering in and out of vision like a failing light tumbled off the right side of the bridge out of sight. Lowering his weapon, he stood to quickly pace sideways along the roof's edge, trying to find an angle to spot where it landed. As he moved, eyes searching for a telltale bloodstain, he caught sight of dark leg disappearing behind one of the pillars, leaving small splashes of blood behind in the grass. Whatever it was, it was tougher than any other bloodsucker, and smarter too, finding cover so quickly.
He raised his rifle again, scanning the edge of the pillar in detail, trying to see if anything of it was poking out. He doubted it could hide well enough to walk out invisible with the blood loss, if it could sustain the camouflage at all. Kneeling there, the near silence felt completely different. Now the straining to hear any sign of the thing was predatory, laced with the sniper's focus on waiting for that one perfect shot. As the wind curled gently past his exposed fingertips, he got ever more antsy in waiting. He had no idea how badly wounded it really was. How long it could hide there, waiting for a moment to escape. Even how much it knew about his position was another unknown.
Still, despite how clever it seemed, it definitely wouldn't be trained how to react under fire.
Yar leant rightwards, trying to see as far round as possible, before sighting and quickly letting off a couple of shots just to the side of the pillar. Without a second's hesitation, he pulled back away from the edge and sprinted left along the roof as quietly as possible. As the edge appeared ahead of him he turned and stepped forward, raising the SVD in one clean motion in anticipation towards the other side of the support pillar it was using as cover. As his scope reached his eye, already trained close by though the years of practice, he managed to sweep it into position just in time to catch a brown, face-like round shape peering out from the concrete pillar.
The quiet echoes of his footsteps were dwarfed by shattering crack of his rifle as he let off a shot in instinct, knowing without checking he'd missed as his arms jolted the sight away from the face that was already moving back into hiding as he took the shot.
Cursing he sprang back into movement, heading back to the right, trying to catch it on the other side. It took precious seconds to reach the far side of the building, and his heart was beating fast again as he finally found a good angle and turned. In the moment he raised his rifle, he saw an indistinct shape moving at speed away from him, heading for a further support pillar. Pulling his scope to his eye it took a second to recognise that half of the brown shapes were more pools of blood, but there ahead of them was rippling figure, parts phasing in and out of view stained red, sprinting leftwards already to cover itself with the bridge as it made distance. In the second and a half it took to regulate his heart and breathing it had nearly made it out of sight, and his final shot fell short somewhere between it's inconsistently pumping legs disappearing towards the safety of the pillar.
Cursing again, he paced back to see if it was visible from the other side. Cold anger raged within him, at his own failures to finish the beast and it's unnatural cunning in hunting and evading him. The bloodstains showed it had made it to cover again on the next pillar out. That meant another game of cat and mouse trying to bait it into sight, and more time wasted. Part of him doubted if it'd continue it's hunt after him immediately after being wounded badly, but no stalker with any sense left an enemy unfinished behind him with so many other dangers to think about. Allowing himself to close his eyes for a second to start calming the adrenaline and anger inside, he knelt down preparing again for the sniper's wait before settling himself into firing position, training his eye on it's hiding place.
Pripyat still gave him the creeps, it's insidious drab fog and ominous silence quickly doing away with what little nostalgia he had. Even so, it was quieter than normal. Though it earned it's reputation as the 'ghost city', there'd be the occasional birdsong or rare rustle of rats, but this morning it had been as silent and still as the grave. Just constant, oppressive silence. No life but plants and rot on long-dead corpses.
Still, Strelok was too seasoned to be complacent. The fog and pockets of heavy radiation forcing him to leave the curtain helmet of his SEVA suit up meant every second he was battling with the rasp of his own breathing through the filters to strain for sounds of danger. It took years of experience just to be able to maintain the absolute calm needed in the face of death to stop the heavy breathing that could mask the only warning you'd get through a gasmask before you died.
With the fog muffling the sound even more, and dropping the sightlines to a stone's throw, the going was slow and arduous. A non-stop sequence of pauses listening for danger, crawling behind undergrowth, carefully skirting buildings and short dashes as fast he could manage on his weak leg to cross roads into cover. There was no point going inside at all. Even back in the old days with backup available it just wasn't worth it in most cases. Besides some of the key landmarks used as bases there'd been too few stalkers coming out alive to even provide proper horror stories.
In some ways, the fog was a blessing, hiding him from any prying eyes that could easily spot you along the long, straight Soviet roads and open squares. If there were any that was. He didn't think anyone sane would still be here anyway.
As if on cue, something faint interrupted the sound of his breath. He froze in place. It didn't sound like immediate death yet. The light, quiet pants slowly starving him of oxygen didn't help the matter as his heart quickly started to up it's pace. Stillness, for a while longer. Then suddenly again, a distinct growl. Somewhere to his right. He'd been following the main road northwards along the right side, which tended to be a tad less dangerous being futher from the city centre. Still, only a little less dangerous. Whatever it was must be on the other side of the building he was pressed up against.
In the seconds he had, he made a snap decision to get across the road, hoping making distance would get him far enough away to stay undisturbed. None of the buildings around here offered any sanctuary. Only the hospital northwest of him was remotely accessible, and mutants wouldn't hesitate to follow him inside. They didn't in the past. He ran as fast with his heavy limp, focusing on just getting his bad foot down and through without injuring it even more, until a loud malicious snarl broke through the slapping of his boots on tarmac.
A mangy pseudodog was charging for him, slavering jaws ready to tear him to shreds with a leap from those powerful hindlegs. No chance of outrunning it. He pivoted and brought his rifle to bear, the wobble on his unsteady leg throwing off his aim. With a half-second left to line it up, he sighted it and released a burst of shots cascading a painful series of cracks echoing through the man-made valleys of the city.
The dog vanished in a puff of smoke.
He swore profusely under his breath. A psydog. Even as he looked over his sights for more targets low shapes moved around in the misty distance. He slung his rifle and started a quick limp away from them, following his original course north. Trying to find the real dog lurking behind it's proxy illusions in fog like this was near impossible. The barking and growling only grew, snapping impatiently a short distance behind him. As it edged closer and closer, he ripped the pistol from the holster on his thigh and turned again to fire off a clumsy hail at another dog advancing on him, sending it twirling away in wisps of smoke on the wind before stumbling back round and jogging onwards.
He needed shelter, but the apartment block to his left was an impenetrable forcing him onwards as the dogs closed in on him from his right and behind. They were ducking in and out of the fog, taunting him and trying to corral him against the building. Every time one made it ahead of him, he loosed off a couple more shots until he found his mark, sending it away in a puff. The damn thing could see he was wounded, and didn't need to risk itself going in for the kill until it had softened him up. He focused on just putting leg before leg, blocking out the snarls, until green light started to glow in the sky ahead of him.
The end of the building had some massive anomalous vines growing between it and the next high-rise. Hardly ideal, but at least he was going out of the fire into the frying pan. As he got closer the lanky brown shapes of the hardened vines faded into view, first the thinner strands stretching between the buildings like strands of web, then the thicker trunks growing from the acidic anomaly bath simmering below.
With the possibility of losing it's prize to the anomaly, the frenzied barking kicked up a notch as the psydog sent out it's illusory copies aggressively to finish the kill. He turned to let off a few more shots, taking down one illusion, then another, before pulling out his knife to slash at the last couple that made it past his final gunshots. One fell immediately to a fast stab, but the other slammed into his torso just after with very real force, knocking the breath from him and tearing at his protective suit as he pushed it away.
A darker dog, already spawning more copies, was charging him down from afar, and ignoring everything else he pushed his protesting legs to cover the last few metres to the edge of the acidic anomalies, quickly hobbling into a spot that seemed to be hissing and shimmering less than the rest. He carefully picked his way a couple of feet more, until he was surrounded by the awful chemical stench and green glow.
The fresh crowd of dogs weren't following him in here, just whining and posturing aggressively on the outskirts of the chemical field. He gave them a snarl back, before quickly clasping a gloved hand over the dog did the chest area. His legs were starting to feel prickly already, let alone the injury in one. Without delay, he pulled some bolts out and gingerly probed a way through to the trunk. With the way the nasty patches shifted and roiled, as well as the inconsistent way the bolts melted and fizzed in contact it was a lot less of a precise art than navigating electro or gravitational anomalies.
He'd seen them time and time again though, and with experience you could get a feel for it just by eye. It wasn't long before he got his way to the base of the gnarled wooden vine trunk, nearly two feet thick, spurting from the earth. Now it was time to climb out of this awful shit until the dogs gave up.
It was easier said than done, especially when injured. Alex had told him about when he'd done it, a mixture of using smaller shoots as hand and footholds and wrapping your limbs around it and shimmying up using pressure. Damn bastard was younger and stronger than him though, and the full-body anomaly suit wasn't suited for heavy exertion. It took a few tries to find a spot that he could climb up without using his abused right leg. It took far longer than he'd have liked, letting the sting of acid in through the teethmark holes in the suit's chest and sapping all the energy from the rest of him, but once he got up onto the trunk itself it he was left with the painful task of wrapping his arms and legs around it to wiggle up like some disabled monkey.
Still, with a bit of swearing and bitching and a pause sitting on a thick branch he eventually made up to a safer spot above the worst of the acidic effects of the anomalies below him. He knew he should really go higher if he had to stay to stop his suit slowly melting but that could wait a moment. He scanned the edges of the fog. Sure enough, after a couple of minutes, a faint four-legged shape danced at the edges of recognition. They wouldn't let him away that easily.
Stormchaser was so flabbergasted she almost dropped into the trees out of the air, bobbing back upwards to see what looked to be Twilight Sparkle in "human" form, just as described in the brief. Flapping there, she could see her standing there, waving at her now. Stormchaser could barely believe her eyes, but there she was. Releasing the breath she'd been holding, she mentally caught herself as she started to glide down towards her without thinking, before muttering under her breath.
"Focus Storm! You don't want to get pulverised from a moment's inattention do you. It could be a trap!"
The dark thought set her on edge, and slowly but surely she glided out of the treeline fully into sight over the road, already banking back in case something attacked her, but nothing was forthcoming. Heeding the warnings they'd been given, she slowly progressed forward above the road with her eyes and ears straining for any sight of these strange physical anomalies, and mindful to constantly shift direction and altitude in case one of these native humans had it's weapon trained on her. It was painful having to fly so slowly and cautiously when their objective was so close, maybe even safe.
The metres closed in, and by Celestia's mercy nothing attempted to stop her as she swooped down the last couple to land in front of Twilight Sparkle. Before she could get her bearings the oddly transfigured pony rushed her and clutched her tight in a hug, incoherently mumbling,
"I'm so glad you're here! We're going to be ok. We're going to be ok..."
She quickly dissolved into a sobbing mess. The situation was clearly bad. Stormchaser gently ponyhandled Twilight as she did her best to comfort her, angling her body around to try and get a look any humans with her. One was knelt by the end of the long metal vehicle clutching a sleek, black metal object; a long squashed tube with a smaller tube poking out the end. The human itself was imposing, far bigger than her even while kneeling and covered in what she presumed was their armor based on the intel in the brief. Her first impression was that it had to be worried or annoyed, it had barely paid any attention to her once she'd landed and resumed watch down the road.
Turning to the other side, there was whole group of more of them, all covered in a grubby assortment of armor completely covering their bodies, huddling against the grassy banks at the side of the road where it curved away to the right. She was right about her hunch, but the thought of missing so many potential hostiles sent chills down her spine. She dearly wanted to keep eyes on them, being the first meaningful contact they'd have with these aliens in the field, but first she had Twilight to attend to.
"Miss? Miss, can you just let go of me a second?"
Her quiet rebuke managed to get Twilight to let go of her, and knowing her type Stormchaser didn't give her any room to fall apart again.
"We've got more ponies coming up behind me looking for you, a whole squad especially sent by the Princess. It's going to be ok. We can take you back to Equestria very soon. I just need you to hold on while the rest get here and we rendezvous with your friends here. Is that ok?"
Twilight sheepishly nodded, and let Stormchaser guide her to sit down behind the long metal thing the human was using for cover. As she turned back around, one of the humans, smaller than the rest, stood up and pulled off it's mask, revealing a dark-skinned face and a tumble of grey and black hair behind it under the hood. That'd be one of the other civillians they were here for, Zecora. Before she had a chance to speak to her the transformed zebra gave her a nod and walked past her to comfort Twilight. Anyway, one of the other humans was waving her over. She trotted across to the grassy bank they were resting against, hoping as she took in all the odd features and differences between the aliens that two of them would be the other targets, Rainbow Dash and Princess Luna. Sadly, no wings, probably a giveaway unless the Princess had managed to mask them somehow.
The one that had waved her over stared at her through dark lenses on it's helmet, unnervingly similar to the bug eyes of the changelings she'd dealth with in the past. Diplomacy with someone you knew was hiding their face just felt wrong on so many levels. It was bulky beyond belief, with all manner of strange metal contraptions attached to it's limbs covering a thick black and grey camo-patterned bodysuit. Another weapon a lot like the one carried by the human on guard sat very clearly nearby its far hand. She hated to admit but the damn thing had her over a barrel if it wanted to. She had a hundred questions that needed answering but in the moment she realised that she had no idea where to begin. They hadn't expected to find the group so quickly, and she certainly didn't expect to have to be the one negotiating.
Might as well start with the basics.
"Who are you?"
"Hog."
Even more useless that she had imagined, clearly it wasn't in the talkative mood. Who even calls themself 'Hog' anyway.
"Do you have any intention to harm us ponies, and any that have been travelling with you?"
"I'm bloody glad you things turned up to take that damn woman away, What do they say, 'don't look a gift horse in the mouth', eh? She's a fucking liability. Anyway, I'm not in the mood to waste ammo on something not trying to kill me."
That was a surprise, and informative. Whoever this human was they didn't have an ounce of respect or empathy but at least it looked like they might make it back to Equestria with their objective at least partially complete with no hiccups or casualties. A miracle based on the previous action reports she'd seen. Spurred on by thte sudden turn for the better, she just went with what came to her next.
"Why?"
It just didn't quite add up. Twilight Sparkle, fantastically powerful mage and Princess' protege, a useless liability? A trap that doesn't close when you put your hoof in it?
"She just whines all day and can't fight that's why. Typical tourist who thinks they're hot shit but falls apart like a tissue. She won't even kill either. Useless veggie."
Stormchaser felt like if the thing wasn't wearing helmet, there'd be a spit of disgust punctuating that remark, whatever it meant. She opened her mouth to ask another question but it continued.
"The situation around here is terrible. We're fighting for survival and her dragging us down just makes things even worse. Guess it's your problem now." It chuckled darkly.
She'd expected better from the famed Twilight Sparkle to be honest, and seeing her in pieces like that did make her heart sink a bit. Still, there was no telling what she'd been through. The natives looked like they were being pushed over the brink from all these monster attacks the previous groups had witnessed. Staring into those soulless lenses, a thought occurred. No mention of Zecora, or other ponies.
"What about the other ponies? You've got Zecora here with you, but there were two others that were with them originally, do you know anything about them?"
"Both dead. We saw them die." He said flatly. Stormchaser was taken aback by the complete lack of emotion, even with the muffling of it's helmet before the information itself had time to sink in.
"A horrific mutant baited them into trap, well, us all into the trap, and killed half our group at the time in the fight. The one with the weird hair and wings blew them both up in some strange explosion as it killed her."
It paused for a couple of seconds. Stormchaser realised her mouth was hanging open.
"After that we've been heading for wherever's safe. The only other one that escaped that thing's trap died soon after fighting a rearguard against the mutant hordes while the rest of us fled. Most of them aren't proper stalkers anyway, just me and Alex over there by the bus are hardened fighters. At least your Zecora has her head screwed on properly, only woman I've seen that's got the respect for the Zone. In another time she might have made it as a stalker."
She couldn't really believe it. Princess Luna. Dead. It didn't seem like something that could happen in real life. She blinked her eyes a couple of time, trying to come to terms with it and failing. Whatever resemblance this story had to the truth she needed to report this back, now.
"I'm going head back to the rest of my unit and lead them back so we can sort this out. You're not going to kill me when I try to leave are you?"
Hog tilted his head and leant back, waving a hand non-commitally. "Just go, I've had enough magic shit in my life, lets get it over with."
Nearly two hours had passed, and Yar still knelt motionless in wait, ready to finish the kill on whatever awful monstrosity of a bloodsucker was hiding out there, bloody and wounded. He could just about see both sides of the bridge support pillar it was hiding behind from his vantage at the corner of his rooftop, ready to stop a stray leg or trail of blood betray it's movement. Then, he'd have it in the open, ready to receive his bullet.
After the adrenaline and stress of suddenly being hunted, then becoming the hunter, he'd finally regained the focus he had earlier, tuning into the softness of the breeze caressing his face and it's gentle whisper through the roads and alleys that surrounded him behind the huge figure of the powerplant. He dared not look away, but out of the corners of his eyes he'd let the slow motion of clouds covering the sky reach his attention. His tarp was ready in his backpack to cover himself up, he wasn't going to let weather get in the way of this kill. A bit of rain wouldn't stop him watching and waiting for the right moment.
So when the tremor came, his whole body suddenly tensed, arms gripping his rifle ever tighter. His ears pricked, searching for the heavy steps of a pseudo-giant, the only thing in the Zone that could shake the very ground beneath him. The second tremor was accompanied by a sonorous, low rumble that washed over his entire body.
Another emission.
He slung his rifle over his shoulder, and ran along the rooftop ledge before vaulting down onto the concrete bridge towards the powerplant sarcophagus. Sucking air into his lungs in heavy gasps he ran at full tilt along to top, legs pounding as the huge grey structure grew to fill his field of view. Whatever that wounded beast was doing didn't matter, it'd probably die out here in a minute anyway and he didn't want to join it.
The end of the bridge quickly approached, and with a powerful leap he managed to jump up to meet the flat wall at the end. His body and face slammed into it with an excruciating crunch, but his outstretched hands just managed to grasp the lip of the next rooftop above him. Fucking hell he was far too old for this. With a groan he forced every ounce of strength in his arms into pulling, slowly rising until his head was almost breaking to lip, before swinging an arm upwards to grab onto a railing crossbar above him. He let himself hang for just a second, flashes of light ominously lighting up the cloudy day behind him accompanied by trembling vibrations pulsing slowly through the railing. With another groan he swung his other arm up, before getting his boots against the wall and using his legs to gain the last stretch before hopping over the railing.
He forced his legs into a jog across the roof of the building towards the stairway leading onto the maze of gantries coming off the sarcophagus. They felt like lead pipes clanging against the stairs as he pushed on upwards through the building roar of thunder and flashes of lightning. Everything was focused on getting through one of those doors above him into the shelter of the sarcophagus building. His feet pounded on the metal walkways, rounding corners and climbing more flights of stairs, beelining for one a couple of levels higher.
With the scraps of the oxygen reaching his brain, he had a sudden awful thought. The door could be locked. His legs and lungs were barely staving off failure, so he staggered up a couple more steps and slumped on the railing, staring at it. Groping on his back, he unslung his rifle and braced it on the railing. His arms could barely keep it straight, the door kept wobbling around in his scope reflecting the awful red tinge of the sky behind him. Holding in a rattling gasp, he waited half a second for the arrow mark to move down over the handle and-
The crack of the rifle and shrill squeal of the handle area of the rusted metal door being torn off broke through the bass roar filling the air. Using his sniper rifle like a walking stick, he pushed himself back to his feet and staggered the last few metres up and along the trembling walkway towards the door flapping open and closed in the raging wind. As the opening came up to meet him he leant on the side, pivoting himself through and away from the doorway as he fell into the darkness.
Dusty concrete slammed into him with a blunt greeting, and he rolled over to watch the hellish flashes of light pouring through the doorway past his feet. The geiger counter was warbling an anxious staccato stutter, barely breaking through the roaring waves of the emission crashing against the sarcophagus walls. His sore arm pulled his gasmask up to cover his face as he curled up like an animal.