Chapter 11
Angel of Death
“Ooowwww....”
I woke up in a haze, a headache pounding at all the sides of my poor head and slowly, slowly cracked an eyelid open.
I immediately regretted it.
The yellow electric light from the lamps on the walls flooded my haggard eyes, sending more signals of pain to my brain already feeling like it was clamped in a vice. I felt like I had just been run over by a herd of enraged boars.
At some point, my brain managed to start up its lower cognitive functions, allowing me to feel the state my body was in. I let out a breath, letting myself emerge slowly from the alcohol induced fog my body currently was in. My tongue was dry, it felt like it as made of cardboard, my throat was drier than the Kalahari desert and my head felt like an anvil had fell on it. To top it all, my limbs felt like they weighed a ton and I had an acidic taste lingering in my mouth.
Then my brain managed to fully start up and I frowned in disgust.
Don’t tell me I puked on myself.
I pushed myself up, holding my forehead with a hand. I slowly opened my eyes and examined myself. Apparently I had puked on someone else since my armor looked pristine. Relieved, I looked around, scratching my beard.
I was in the bar of the Skadovsk. A man I didn’t know was huddled against me, though I was still wearing all my armor. Multiple bodies were littered around, unconscious for the most part. The huge room was in an indescribable mess. I slowly stood up, only to stumble and nearly fall down, my fall only stopped when I managed to grab a nearby table and lean against it, causing it to protest under my weight.
I looked at my PDA: nine in the morning. It wasn’t exactly late, but it wasn’t early either. I sighed, grabbed my canteen of water from my backpack under the table, popped open a box of painkillers and downed half of both.
Ugh. Won’t be enough. I’m gonna need Celestia’s artifacts and a bit of cleaning up.
I shook my head, put the consumables away and took a step towards the stairs leading to the upper decks of the stranded ship.
For some reason I felt heavy, moving was harder than usual, much more harder than it should be with a hangover. Taken with a doubt, I put a hand to my belt, only to notice that my exosuit power source was absent.
Great.
I darted around the room, trying to find the artifact-powered batteries. After a few minutes of searching, I managed to find them, under a sleeping stalker I didn’t know. I unceremoniously shoved the man off the battery and slapped the power block in its place on my belt before hitting the startup sequence of my exosuit.
The powered exoskeleton responded to my command and its functions started up. With a whirr, the fans of the microclimate system spooled up, accompanied by multiple electric whines of cold servomotors being actioned as I moved. I put on my helmet, checking the systems of the suit. Everything was in the green except for the energy levels of the battery.
I’ll have to buy some from Owl I guess.
With a grunt, I stretched my sore limbs and gathered my equipment before I walked up the stairs, intending to visit the local trader.
Ugh. Sleeping in armor and being hung over isn’t great.
I slowly woke up, feeling more rested than ever. On my chest, my sunshine’s head was resting. She was already awake, giving my naked skin small kisses.
I gently caressed her mane. “Awake already?” I asked with a chuckle.
“Hmmm,” came her only response.
I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her closer to me. “Come here,” I said, before pulling her into a kiss.
Her eyes completely opened and her wings flared open, pushing the blanket down her back; she was awake for good this time. Fortunately we were in a remote corner of the dorms and nobody was there.
My alicorn shook her head, blinked a few times and smiled. “Good morning,” she purred.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Rested. Alive. Sexy,” she replied, nuzzling my neck. “A bit sore though.”
“As if you did not like it,” I snarked.
“I didn’t say that,” Celestia replied, nuzzling my chest. “I’m a mess though.”
“Bah. Easily fixed,” I shrugged, giving her mane a glance, “but a few of your feathers are messed up too,” I observed, watching her huge wings.
“I know. It’s been a long time I haven’t preened,” admitted my alicorn.
“Preened?”
“Yeah. Plucking out old and damaged feathers so new ones can grow and grooming the ones that can be salvaged,” she clarified.
I nodded. “I see. Want me to help you then?”
Instantly, my soulmate’s face lit up. “Of course! Oh, it’s going to be so romantic!” she exclaimed.
I raised my brow. “Romantic?”
“For pegasi and subsequently alicorns, preening is something very personal. The only ones we let approach our wings are someone in who we have complete and blind trust, like a close parent or...”
“A lover,” I concluded.
My alicorn beamed. “Yes. A lover,” she confirmed, giving me a kiss.
“Let’s do it then,” I announced with a smile.
Celestia moved around, laying down next to me and extended a wing, resting her head on my shoulder. With one arm, I reached around her swanlike neck and pulled her closer, giving me a better access to her back. Without a word, she extended her right wing and presented it to me.
I began examining the appendage, gently passing the palm of my hand across its surface. After a careful choice, I pinched a large feather bent out of alignment with two fingers and pulled on it firmly. It came free without any resistance but I felt Celestia tense up as I removed the feather.
My alicorn winced. “Ouch.”
“Sorry,” I apologized, genuinely downtrodden at her distress.
“It’s alright, the big ones always hurt a little,” she assured. “Show me,” she added, recoiling to face me.
I took the feather in my other hand and presented it to my alicorn, giving her a good look. The feather was a good thirty centimeters long and was colored in the same perfect shade of white as my alicorn’s coat.
“Yes, it’s a big one,” commented Celestia.
“What do I do with it?” I asked, unsure of what to do.
My alicorn smiled. “Keep it.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a sort of tradition among winged ponies: while loose feathers are useless, the first one a lover plucks out from the wings of their other half is a symbol of a blooming relationship that grows stronger, it’s almost sacred even,” she explained.
I stared at the big feather still in my grasp, slowly understanding what it represented to Celestia, to me, to us. “I see.”
I grabbed my helmet and tucked the feather in an elastic strap running around the metallic surface of the camouflaged piece of headgear. Once that was done, I put it down and resuming taking care of my beloved’s wings.
One by one, all the bent, damaged or loose feathers came out, before I took care of the ruffled ones. Once that was done, I was left with a very relaxed alicorn pressed against me and a small pile of white feathers. I picked one, slightly smaller than the one I already had ornamented my helmet with and reunited it with its bigger cousin.
Once that was done, I gave Celestia a kiss on the neck and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into a loving embrace.
Strider and I were huddled against each other, enjoying the moment we shared when I heard a knock at the door. Seconds later, Vano barged in the room, stumbling on the doorstep and almost falling to the ground.
“Ompf! Damn boat doors, can’t they be like any other doors?” cursed the giant.
“You seem upset,” Strider observed.
“Yeah well try to wake up with a splitting headache and half of your memories from the night before missing and then we’ll speak,” he angrily retorted.
“Go fuck yourself with a rake and a pile of broken glass.”
“Sorry,” he apologized with a sigh. “Celly, you got your artifacts right?” he pleaded more than asked.
I hesitantly gazed at Strider and Vano. “Yes, but why would you-”
“Healing artifacts accelerate the metabolism. In short, they make you hungry and get rid of hangovers in seconds,” interrupted my beloved.
“Give me that artifact pleaaaase,” urged Vano in an agonizing tone.
“It’s in one of my saddlebags right next to you,” I replied with a frown.
I watched with a mix of curiosity and disapproval as Vano figuratively dove into my bags, eagerly searching for my artifacts, unceremoniously throwing behind him everything that didn’t interest him. Finally, he produced the Firefly Strider had given me with a shout of victory. Instantly, the giant pressed it against the side of his head, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Does it just heal the headache?” I asked.
“Nope, it get rids of the hangover in its entirety,” replied Vano. “All the nasty chemicals coming from metabolized ethanol, poof! They disappear, either degraded or evacuated. All I need now is a good sip of water, a little clean-up and a piss,” he said, tidying up my equipment he had previously scattered. “Sorry for bursting in unannounced by the way.”
I stared in wonder at the giant, taken aback at his sudden change of attitude. He had gone from grumpy and irritable to jovial and affable in a few seconds.
“Whoa. It’s fast,” was the only comeback I could mutter.
“That’s partly because it’s a Firefly you got there young lady,” spoke up Vano, tossing me the artifact. “Had it been a Soul, It would have lasted a couple of minutes. A Kolobok, a minute or so,” he explained with a shrug. “Speaking of which, what did we do to the remnants of the Kolobok that exploded when you healed buzz cut right there?”
“It’s in one of the pouches of my backpack. We’ll give it to the scientists so they can toy with it when we give them a visit,” replied Strider.
“The scientists... you guys thing Hermann would be working with mercs like Jackal?” asked Vano.
My lover frowned. “I doubt it. Not willingly. One way or another, we will get to the bottom of this mess,” he growled.
“Don’t worry dude, as long as we’re together we can do anything, no sweat,” assured Vano, sitting on the bed in front of us.
“I suppose you are right,” admitted Strider as he began to help me gear up. “Things could be worse. At least we know where to go.”
Vano stood up. “That’s the spirit!” he cheered. “Come on man, get your ass in gear and let’s get some breakfast. Can’t travel on an empty stomach,” added the giant, standing up.
With that, our tall friend walked out of the room, heading downstairs where the bar was. I shook my head and grabbed Strider’s equipment, helping him put it on.
The bar was a mess. Most stalkers were sitting down on the very ground, all clutching their heads and moaning in pain. The rare few to have healing artifacts were faring better and were already sitting around the tables, eating breakfast and discussing; their voices and the sound of the silverware hitting dishes mixing in an unintelligible background noise. The air was permeated with the usual scents of alcohol, cooking food; smoke, sweat and gunpowder but there was another odor I could not quite place.
“What’s that smell?” I asked Vano, approaching the bar where he was sitting.
“That would be puke, my good friend,” replied my bearded friend with a laugh.
I looked around the bar. “What happened here anyway?”
“A party happened. With lots of alcohol.”
“What’s alcohol?” came Celestia’s voice.
“Ethanol in aqueous solution,” answered Vano with a smirk. “Can be made from raisin, various fruits, malt, or in this case, potato,” he added, producing a bottle of vodka from his backpack and putting it on the counter.
I shook my head and chose to ignore him. “Beard, have you got anything good for a breakfast?” I asked to the barman in the back room of his bar.
The barman turned away from what he was working on, revealing a cooking pan with something frying inside, judging by the sound of it. “Imported cereal, bread and some local made Flesh bacon,” he replied, pointing at his pan. “I could make sandwiches with it if you want.”
I shrugged. “Alright. Make three then. I will also take some cereal and lots of coffee for my friends and I.”
I turned back towards Celestia and Vano, only to find my alicorn examining my friend’s bottle with a judging gaze.
“And that’s what gave you that headache?” she asked, eyebrow cocked.
Vano cringed. “Yeah, the aftermath is painful when you drink a lot. But it’s fun, you should try some!”
“I’ll consider it,” replied Celestia in a wary tone.
The breakfast in itself was pretty quick. We ate, occasionally exchanging a few words and planning the day that was coming. Traveling back to Yanov was the main objective, but we had agreed to stop around noon for lunch and then and look for artifacts at the Oakpine anomaly then at the Iron Forest anomaly if we had the time before resuming our travel.
I took a last sip of coffee and stood up, tilting my head as to make my neck pop. With a sigh, I moved my arms around, shaking off the remaining sleepiness from my body. Nothing good ever comes from being half asleep in the field.
Celestia stood up, moved her wings a bit and turned back towards Vano, who was still eating like a pig. “Come on tall man, we have to go!” she nagged.
“Yeah yeah,” dismissively replied my bearded friend, not giving her any attention.
My alicorn sighed and walked up to me.
“We will wait for him by the door,” I offered.
Celestia shrugged, then nuzzled my side and walked to the door, where she sat down. I followed her and was about to sit down next to her when I catched a conversation going on at the table next to us. Instead of sitting down, I leaned against the wall next to my soulmate, back against the metal wall. Pretending to glare at Vano -who was still eating- I listened to the conversation.
“...and you know where the Oasis is? Whoa. That’s so cool!” enthusiastically exclaimed a rookie in a leather jacket.
“Eh, it’s not very impressive, but there are artifacts everywhere in that place, you literally stumble on them!” another stalker clad in an olive armored suit laughed.
“That sounds like a fairy tale to me,” a third one with a long, black trenchcoat dubiously interrupted. “I’ll believe it only when I see it.”
“Fine! I’ll guide you there if you want,” sighed the second stalker.
“Can I come too? asked the rookie.
The olive-clad stalker looked at him, then shrugged. “As long as you don’t slow us down, you can follow.”
I shrugged and began towards Vano, who had finally finished his breakfast. I was about to leave the men to their business and engage a discussion with my bearded friend when I caught a glimpse of something that made me freeze: the olive stalker gave the trench-coated one a wink, to which he was answered with a slight nod. Meanwhile, the leather-clad rookie was oblivious to the secret exchange between the two others, staring dreamily at the ceiling.
“So, we’re going?” asked Vano.
I frowned. “Yeah.”
My bearded friend tilted his head. “What’s the matter, dude?”
“Let’s go outside, I will tell you.”
I reached the door wheel and turned it, unlocking it and opening it. After letting Celestia and Vano step outside, I rejoined them and closed the door after casting one last glance at the three men I had been spying upon.
“What was that all about?” asked Celestia worriedly as I locked the door shut.
I frowned and looked back at the door. “I am afraid that a poor rookie will have a very bad day if we do nothing.”
The weather outside was somewhat warm, which was surprising considering how cold the preceding few days had been. I could see a blue sky through the broken remnants of the Skadovsk hull, only obscured by a few clouds here and there. A gentle breeze was blowing the land, rustling the reeds and the bushes of the swamps.
I ruffled my wings and looked back in my binoculars. We were on a hill overlooking the Skadovsk, waiting for the three men Strider had talked us about. Apparently, they were going to rob a rookie of all his possessions after being lured away from the stranded ship by two other stalkers.
“Are you sure of what you’re saying?” I asked my buzzed stalker.
“Absolutely. It would not even be the first time Vano and I stopped a mugging,” he replied with a nod.
“Yeah. There’s always this legend about the Oasis and many people are quick to take advantage of gullible rookies,” acquiesced Vano. “I of all people should know,” he added bitterly. “At least Jack won’t be a danger to anyone anym-”
“There they are,” interrupted Strider.
I looked through my binoculars and saw three men exiting the Skadovsk: one clad in a olive suit of armor, another with a long, black trench coat, both well armed; followed by a third one with only a clear jacket, a sawn-off shotgun and, more surprisingly, a long bolt-action rifle with a scope on it.
“Are they the guys you were talking about?” asked Vano.
Strider nodded. “Affirmative. The one with the scoped rifle is their soon-to-be victim.”
“Let’s make sure he doesn’t become it then,” I finished.
“I can only agree with that,” nodded Strider. “Snowball, take to the skies, you are on overwatch duty; Vano and I will walk a hundred meters apart. Move from cover to cover. Don’t let them see you.”
Strider and Vano stood up from our position and spread out while I took off and flew to a cloud where I hid, following the group of stalkers from the sky.
“Heh, they’re going where we’re supposed to go,” came Vano’s voice through the radio.
“I saw that. Fortunate coincidence,” replied Strider.
I stayed up in the sky, moving the cloud I was hiding in as we advanced. I sat down, prepped my sniper rifle and held it in my magic, stabilizing it with my forelegs; ready to fire on anything that could be a threat to my friend and my beloved.
I was glad I didn’t have to walk: the melting snow had added even more gunk to the mud of the swamps and my friends seemed to have trouble walking, especially Strider. Vano, on the one hoof, was helped by his exosuit and managed to keep a reasonable pace. I on the other hoof only had to occasionally flap my wings to advance, stop or stabilize my cloud against the gentle breeze.
After a two hours of silent stalking, the group of men we were following stopped near an anomaly field sitting under a deformed oak tree: it was like if several trees had joined together, forming a dome over the pit where the anomalous field was.
Suddenly, the olive-clad stalker and the trench coated one raised their weapons threateningly at their victim. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but it was clear that they had finally decided to rob him of his stuff. The leather-clad stalker raised his sawn-off in self defense, only to be hit with the shotgun buttstock of his attacker, sending his weapon in the anomalous field behind.
“Snowball, this is Cuddles,” came Strider’s voice through the radio. “We have a situation here, requesting immediate intervention, do you copy?”
“Affirmative Cuddles. Orders?”
I looked through the scope of my marksman rifle, held against my shoulder with my magic and stabilized on my forelegs and focused on estimating the environmental conditions.
“Engage and disable the two hostiles with extreme prejudice. Leave the third one live, over.”
“Understood, Cuddles. Fire in the hole.”
I let out a breath and-
*BANG*
*BANG*
I heard two gunshots crack in the distance. The two hostiles fell to the ground, leaving only the their victim standing, looking around in panic. Seconds after, he too collapsed to the ground.
“Awesome shooting Snowball!” cheered Vano in the radio. “Good effect on target.”
“That wasn't me,” I deadpanned.
“Shit. Everybody, stay low. Snowball, look for unknown contacts in the area,” ordered Strider.
“On it.”
I slung my rifle across my back, took my binoculars and began scanning the area. Strider was laying prone next to a boulder, assault rifle at the ready and Vano was crouched behind a bush approximately a hundred meters away. Other than them I couldn’t see anyone else nor anything special except for a few mutants wandering around.
“No visual,” I announced. “I don’t know where the shots came fr- wait a second.”
“What?”
“Contact South-West of the dome tree. Blue and green armor; long rifle,” I announced in the radio.
“Copy that Snowball. I see him,” replied Strider. “... wait a minute, I know who this is... Snag?”
“What the fuck it this asshole doing here alone?” angrily asked Vano.
“Let’s just observe what he is doing,” ordered my partner.
I stayed on my cloud, spying on the hooded stalker as he approached the three downed men. First, he knelt next to the olive-clad man, patted him down and looted his gear. He did the same to the man in black before he brought his attention to the last man. After a short examination, he turned around and walked away.
I couldn’t believe it.
“What the fuck just happened?” came Vano’s stunned voice through my radio.
“Good question,” replied Strider. “All units, regroup, let’s examine these bodies.”
I packed my gear and took off, silently gliding to the ground below where were laying the bodies of an unconscious and two dead men.
“OY! WAKE UP!” I yelled as I backhanded the unconscious rookie.
After a quick examination, I deduced that nothing was wrong with him: no external bleeding, no broken bones and vital sign in the norms. All I had to do was wake him up as if he was in a deep sleep.
“So let me get that clear,” began Vano as I continued my attempts at awakening the unconscious stalker. “Snag is gone. He looted the two muggers but left their victim alone after checking up on him. What is he, some kind of vigilante?”
“I must admit that I fail to grasp what he means to accomplish,” Celestia added.
“Me too. Me too,” I said, pausing in my reanimation attempts.
*SLAP*
*SLAP*
*SLAP*
“Ugh. It is not working,” I grunted. “I suppose nobody has any smelling salts?”
“I have some ammonia,” proposed Celestia, producing a white plastic bottle from her backpack.
“This is a brilliant idea!” I exclaimed. “Hand me the bottle.”
“Why would you carry that nasty stuff around?” asked Vano with a half disgusted, half surprised frown.
“To clean and degrease my guns,” replied my alicorn. “I like taking care of them. Helps me vent stress and keeps me focused on one thing,” she shrugged.
“Fair enough.”
I took the bottle, opened it up and smelled it, bringing my nose to its neck. Instantly, I jerked my head back at the pungent smell of the clear liquid inside the plastic bottle, almost dropping it.
I shook my head. “This should do the trick.”
I supported the head of the unconscious man so it stayed upright and brought the bottle containing the foul-smelling right in front of his face, underneath his nose.
The effect was immediate. The stalker let out a breath, opened his eyes and his head jerked backwards, away from the bottle I was holding. Satisfied with the results, I let him go and closed the bottle before I gave it back to my alicorn.
The rookie backed off, his panicked gaze darting between us.
Vano clapped his hands once. “Well, good luck with him, I’m going in the anomaly.”
With that, my bearded friend turned around and walked to the pit of chemical anomaly laying on the ground, leaving Celestia and I to deal with the frightened rookie.
“W-who are you?” asked the young stalker.
“We are a group of free stalkers passing by. We happened to see how you got attacked. My name is Strider, the big one is Vano and this is Celestia,” I calmly announced, pointing at each of us.
The young stalker brought a hand to his chin, not even looking up. “Attacked? I remember… they said they would show me the Oasis but they... tried to rob me,” recalled the rookie in a shaky voice. “I thought I was going to die when I heard the shots. The two bandits collapsed and I panicked. I… I think I passed out just after.”
“That is pretty much what happened. Some other stalker killed your two attackers, looted them and checked up on you before leaving you alone,” I explained. “Something tell me that he did not intend to leave you for dead.”
“I suppose I owe him a thanks then,” sighed the rookie. “And to you guys too,” he added, looking up, only to freeze in surprise.
“Is everything okay?” asked Celestia in a motherly tone.
“You… what. You talk,” observed the rookie, dumbfounded.
“I’m not from around here,” shrugged my alicorn.
“You… you talk,” repeated the man. “You’re actually real.”
Celestia grunted and facehooved.
I sighed in slight annoyance. “Yes. She is real. Tell me, if she is is the most surprising thing you’ve seen, you must be new in the Zone, am I wrong?”
“No. I just entered the Zone a few days ago. Some veterans guided me to the Skadovsk and now here I am,” replied the rookie.
“Speeding up to the center of the Zone is not a good idea,” I scowled, helping the young stalker up. “What is your name?”
The rookie scratched the back of his head. “Everybody calls me Rookie, I guess it’s a name as good as any.”
“You may want to be more cautious around people the next time, Rookie,” I advised, walking to where Vano was, followed by Celestia and him.
Instead of going in the chemical anomaly in the pit below as he had previously announced, my friend was in the dome tree above it. How did he get there and how did the tree not crack under the combined weight of him and his equipment was lost on me. His artifact detector in one hand, he was making his way to the top of the tree, balancing himself with his other arm.
“What are you doing up there?” I half-yelled, half-asked.
“There’s something here!” replied my bearded friend. “I’m sure there’s artifact! My screen said it was in the middle of the anomaly below but it wasn’t, so it can only be up here or underground!”
“Okay,” I deadpanned, eyebrow raised in incomprehension.
I did not really know how artifact detectors worked and did not want to question my friend’s action. when he has an idea in his head, nothing can stop him.
I shrugged and turned around, walking to the bodies laying on the ground. Both of them had a small caliber sized hole in the side of their head where the bullet hit them and a massive cavity where the it exited, taking away half of their brains with it. I whistled in appreciation of the marksmanship and crouched next to the olive-clad dead stalker, intending to loot him.
After a quick check, I only discovered a few consumables and basic gear, but no guns or ammo.
Snag must have taken them already.
I walked up to Strider’s side, the rookie almost literally on my tail. I sort of pitied the young stalker. He was gullible, frail and weak, not unlike myself, only... a few days ago.
This place radically changes who you are.
I grunted in disgust at the sight of the corpse Strider was inspecting: it had been shot once in the head, taking away its face and identity in a mess of blood, brain matter and spinal fluid. The other had met a similar fate, only the back of his head was obliterated, letting appear an expression of surprise on the dead man’s face. I could not deny that it was good marksmanship, but was appalled at the brutal display. Chests shots are just as efficient at disabling targets, offer better hit probabilities and are less messy.
While I was ‘only’ disgusted at the sight before me and was ‘only’ taken by a slight nausea, the rookie already had thrown up. He was bent over, leaning on a tree, trembling and coughing.
I walked up to him. “Are you alright?” I asked.
“Not really, no,” replied the trembling man. “I’ll get better. I’m not used to see…”
“Brutally murdered corpses?” I finished for him.
“Yeah.”
“You’ll get used to it,” I stated matter-of-factly.
The young stalker sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever-”
“No. Believe me, you will,” I cut him off. “I’m speaking of experience.”
That seemed to leave the young man speechless. He did not try to argue or reply and instead followed I silently as I walked back to Strider, who was done with the first corpse. He had looted all the consumables and gear off it and even stripped it of his armor, something I found slightly unsettling but had no objections against. After all, he did not like it anymore.
“So, what have you got?” I asked, not wanting to confront my lover about his actions.
“A decent amount of food, and medicine along with basic supplies and a good suit,” replied Strider.
“Why did you do that?” asked the rookie, horrified.
“What?”
“You.. you took his armor!” he exclaimed, disgusted.
“This armor is not his anymore, it is yours,” countered Strider, handing him the suit.
The young man backed off from the offered suit. “But that’s wrong! You took it from a dead man!”
“No, and yes. It would have been wrong it I took it from him while he was alive. It would have been theft,” countered my other half in a neutral tone. “Now, it may seem wrong, but he will not need it anymore. Besides, this looks to be a good suit, clean and in quite good condition. If nobody takes it, it will only go to waste so if you do not take it, I will. Would you prefer to keep your half destroyed jacket then?” he asked, pointing at the young stalker’s damaged outfit.
I myself was slightly disturbed by the idea of stealing from the dead but stayed silent. After all, Strider’s logic was sound and it would serve the young stalker in the end.
The rookie deflated in defeat and wordlessly took the suit from Strider’s hand before he walked away, hiding in the bushes. When he came back a minute later, he was clad in the same olive suit Strider had given him.
“There, see? This is better, is it not?” asked Strider.
“I have to admit… yes,” replied the rookie, examining himself.
His new armor looked a lot like these handmade suits many stalkers wore: it was entirely olive green with a hood and reinforced pads were integrated to the jumpsuit on the shoulders, knees and elbows. However, the resemblance stopped there. The rookie’s suit had a bulkier armored vest and padding on the limbs, probably to avoid bite injuries from small mutants while the boots appeared to be armored too.
“I’ll just need my shotgun back, but it’s in the anomalies and I’m not too confident about going in there,” he added, hesitating.
“I’m not going either,” I remarked. “I don’t have a helmet and I don’t want to have my lungs melted by acidic vapors.”
Strider let out a sigh. “Great. I will go then.”
Accompanied by Celestia, I walked to the edge of the anomalous pit, readying my helmet and my artifact detector. I had not used it in so long that I could barely remember how it worked. Fortunately, I managed to start up the device and get it to work.
I cautiously walked down the stiff slope in the anomalous pit, throwing a bolt at every step to avoid anomalies. Despite being exceedingly careful, I almost managed to walk right into an anomaly on several occasions. Throwing bolts proved to be trickier than it seemed as a bolt only spotted anomalies where it landed and a Zone-spawned death trap could be mere centimeters from it.
I could see Rookie’s sawn-off shotgun from where I was, but running towards it would have been a bad idea as Gas and Fruit Punch anomalies are known to be able to eat through anything short of a SEVA suit and then attack the wearer, causing chemical poisoning and horrendous chemical burns. Such wounds were said to be excruciatingly painful and I was not eager to try despite not being able to feel pain.
Suddenly, a spot lit up on the screen of my artifact detector: an artifact was moving about nearby. I fought the urge to follow it and instead slowly placed myself in what I estimated to be its path, waiting for it to come back around its loop. I watched as the spot got closer to me, to a point where it was almost in the center of my screen.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a blue-ish sphere the size of a fist materialized and rolled towards me, rolling under the remaining effects of the momentum it had in its immaterial state. I crouched down and carefully took the small sphere before I raised it in the air.
“Hey Vano!” I called. “Look what I found!”
My friend looked down from the tree above where he was perched. “Nice find… but what are you doing down there anyway?” he asked on an incredulous tone, his voice distorted by his helmet.
“I was going to retrieve Rookie’s gun when I stumbled on this artifact,” I explained.
“Why didn’t you let Celly get it?”
I shrugged. “She does not have a helmet, I was not going to-”
“But she’s got TK, right?”
I stood there like an idiot, realization dawning upon me: my alicorn could have simply retrieved the gun with her telekinesis from a safe distance and I would not have had to wander in the anomalous field.
I groaned in exasperation and facepalmed. Well, gasmaskpalmed.
When I looked up again I saw Vano looking at me from the branch he was standing on in the tree, his helmet masking the shit-eating grin he was undoubtedly bearing. Meanwhile, Celestia was smiling awkwardly from the edge of the anomalous field and Rookie was looking up in the air, whistling innocently while pacing around.
“Let’s do it then,” I deadpanned. “I am coming back,” I added, beginning to carefully climb back up the stiff slope of the anomalous pit.
Once I was finally out of the pit, Celestia had her horn lit up and was hovering Rookie’s shotgun to his owner. I sighed, annoyed at myself.
Well, at least the young one has got his weapon back. I wonder how good he is with his rifle though. He may be useful in the squ-
“Hey! Look what I found!” Vano yelled, interrupting my train of thoughts.
“What?” Celestia and I asked in the same voice.
“A Kolobok!” replied my bearded friend, holding up a familiar-looking spiked artifact for us to see.
“Whoaaaa,” my alicorn deadpanned.
I raised an eyebrow. “Again?”
Vano shrugged. “Yeah. It was in the deformed tree above the anomalous pit,” he explained. “I finally found a replacement for the one you destroyed,” he added, glaring daggers at my soulmate.
“Hey, she did not do it in purpose,” I countered, putting a hand on Celestia’s shoulder. “Besides, she saved me in the process.”
“Wait,” came the rookie’s voice. “You just found a rare artifact just like that?” he asked, flabbergasted.
“Hell yeah I did! I’m the expert when it comes to anomalous fields,” boasted Vano, bumping his armored chest with his closed fist.
I rolled my eyes. “We know that. Could you please loot the other corpse so that we can finally eat lunch?”
“Good idea,” agreed Rookie. “I’m starving.”
“By the way Rookie, catch!” I said, throwing him the artifact I had found a few minutes earlier.
The young stalker caught the blue sphere in flight and examined it incredulously. “You- you’re giving it to me?” he stuttered. “What is it?”
“A Soul if I am not mistaken. Low level healing artifact. Still, quite a useful thing,” I explained.
“But don’t you need it?”
“Not really,” replied Celestia before I could. “Vano found himself a Kolobok, I have a Firefly and Strider... has a condition.”
The young man raised an eyebrow. “A condition?
I unsheathed my knife. “Watch.”
I took the tactical glove off my left hand, holding the knife with the other and discarded it, only to cut a deep gash in the palm of the hand. Some blood came out, but it quickly clotted and the wound closed even faster, leaving nothing but a pale scar in place of the cut that was there mere seconds before.
Rookie stared at my hand, an expression of shock and awe on his face. “That- you- how?”
I shrugged, cleaning my hand off the clotted blood staining its skin.
“He’s got a healing factor ever since I destroyed an artifact while healing him,” deadpanned Celestia. “I don’t know how it’s possible either… just go with it. Maybe the scientists in Yanov will have an answer.”
“But doesn’t it hurt?”
“I do not feel pain,” I shrugged,
“How is that possible?”
“I always was like that,” I replied, not wanting to elaborate on the matter. “As far as I rememb-”
“Son of a bitch!” came Vano’s voice, interrupting my beloved half-sentence.
We turned around, only to see Vano running off in a random direction and a paper slowly falling on the other corpse he had been looting.
“What the fuck?” came Rookie’s voice.
Strider watched as Vano ran off in the distance, before he walked over to the corpse the giant had been looting and picked up the paper that fell on it. After giving it a quick glance, my beloved took off without a word, running after Vano.
The rookie and I stayed there, dumbfounded as we watched the two of them running off into the distance. Intrigued, I used my magic to grab the paper, which was covered in writing. I couldn’t read it, it was written in a language I didn’t understand.
“Erm, could you read that for me please?” I asked the rookie beside me.
The young stalker took the paper from my telekinesis and held it at eye level. “Huh. It’s in Russian. I’ll translate the best I can,” he said, before clearing his throat and reading it aloud. “I’m sorry for yesterday… blah blah. I know, I know I’m a coward, but there’s no other... way. I’ve been running into a lot of trouble with the Bandits pretty much everywhere... now there’s something about -I quote- being a life buoy in the sinking wreck that is my life -end of quote-. I am a hunted man and so are you, and I cannot deal with that. For both our sakes, it is better if we each go our separate ways- blah blah blah- sorry- blah blah blah… and it’s signed ‘Snag’,” finished the rookie. “Who the fuck is that guy?” he asked.
“Long story,” I hurriedly replied. “Follow me!” I called, spreading my wings and taking flight after Strider who had almost disappeared in the bushes of the forest surrounding the area Southeast of Zaton.
“You brain dead moron!”
“You fucking asshole!”
I had finally caught up with my friend, who had caught up with Snag too. Both of them were too preoccupied to yell at each other to even notice me, despite trying to make myself known in the loudest way my voice could. I had tried talking, yelling, I even had shot my rifle in the air a few times but it changed nothing to the verbal war going on between the two of them.
I heard a bush rustle behind me. Instinctively, I drew my AKS-74u and pointed it in the direction where the sound had came from, only to have an out of breath Rookie look down the barrel of my rifle.
“Fuck! Point that away from me, I’ve had enough of being held at gunpoint today,” he said in a breath.
“Fair enough,” I replied, lowering my rifle. “Where is Celest-”
“I’m here,” interrupted my alicorn, landing next to me. “Why did you run after Vano like that?”
“I could ask him the same question,” I grumbled.
“But he did have a good reason. You could have just used the trackers we have in our PDAs instead of starting a wild goose chase,” she countered.
I sat down next to Celestia. “I was worried about Vano running into something less than friendly more than anything. I know you can take care of yourself, love,” I answered, lovingly running a hand through her mane. “You are right though, that was inconsiderate of me.”
Rookie looked at me then at my alicorn. “Wait, ‘love’? You two are- fooooooo!”
“Yes.” Celestia and I replied in unison.
“But that’s… that’s… fooo!”
Celestia gave the young stalker a flat look. “I do not expect you to understand,” she deadpanned.
“That’s… outright deranging.”
“All I can say is that it happened,” I added with a chuckle, before leaning closer to the young man, intending to mess with him a little. “Plus, she’s a beast in bed,” I whispered.
“YA ne khochu znat'! LALALALALALA YA NE SLUSHAU!” yelled Rookie, blanching before he shook his head. “Seriously, stop that!”
“Are you two finished already?” came Celestia’s voice. “Because these two are,” she added, pointing to Vano and Snag.
The two of them were standing where they previously were, only they were not yelling at each other anymore. Instead, they were in the middle of a heated make out session.
Rookie threw his hands in the air. “Der’mo! You all are couples or what?” he, sighed, obviously exasperated.
“Celestia and I? Yes. These two are more complicated,” I commented.
Celestia sighed. “Tell me about it.”
“NUU! YOU TWO DONE OR WHAT?” yelled Rookie, interrupting the two stalkers.
“Rookie has a point. We are in the middle of nowhere, exposed from every angle. We must move,” I ordered.
“Alright, alright,” grumbled Vano. “We’re coming.”
“So, what’s the deal with you two anyway?” asked the rookie, taking a bite out of his sandwich.
I stretched my wings sore from so much flight and laid down next to Strider. “I’m curious as to what’s going on too,” I added.
“A bunch of misunderstandings and a lot of dead people,” deadpanned Snag, who was sitting next to Vano.
“Also you behaved like a complete and utter jerk,” scowled his giant companion.
Snag smirked. “Don’t act as if you don’t like it rough,” he replied, giving him a nudge.
“But seriously, what was that all about?” asked the rookie. “I’m lost here.”
Snag sighed. “Long story short, I ran into trouble with Bandits, got rescued by a common friend of ours,” he began, pointing at Strider, Vano and himself, “then I ran into more trouble by trying to sabotage their operations: raid a stash here, kill a patrol there… I attracted attention to myself. Shit was bad.”
“And that’s where Strider, Celestia and myself enter into the fray,” added Vano. “Apparently a high-ranking Merc wants our little alicorn here present for himself. But here’s the catch: nearly all the Bandits around here work for that Merc one way or another. So when we wiped them all out, he started sending highly trained, well equipped squads to kill us.”
The young stalker’s eyes widened. “Okay… I think I’ll just go away now.”
Vano laughed. “Don’t worry young man, you’re safer with us than alone, even if some Merc wants us dead!”
“Indeed. Last time we were attacked we managed to dispatch them easily enough. Besides, we have air support now,” added Strider, running a hand across my neck.
Vano nodded. “Our safety is not our main concern anymore. We even bought Owl’s services so he makes any information about us disappear.”
“And this is why I’m a massive moron,” sighed Snag. “I didn’t know the Bandits weren’t a problem anymore and that they dealt with my own problems inadvertently… more or less,” he said, ashamed.
“Next time, talk to me instead of being a douche,” grumbled Vano.
Snag sighed and snuggled himself against the giant. “Yeah. I will.”
The rookie scratched his head. “I still have a question though. Why are we speaking English?”
“For her,” answered Strider, wrapping an arm around my back. “She does not speak either Russian or Ukrainian. Besides, most stalkers can speak English and some chose to do all the time.”
“Oh.”
“Enough talk, let’s eat!” interrupted Vano.
“Good idea,” approved Strider. “I bought some sandwiches from Beard this morning,” he added, distributing the goods to Vano and I before he hit his forehead with his palm. “Am I really this dumb?” he said aloud, examining the contents of his sandwich. “Guess I am. Sorry love, but no sandwich for you,” sighed my beloved.
I arched an eyebrow, half worried half lost. “Why? What’s the matter?”
“He’s been a moron and bought bacon sandwiches, that’s why,” answered Vano, the mouth full of food. “Can’t say I don’t like em though,” he added, taking another bite.
I frowned. “I still fail to grasp the problem.”
“Bacon’s meat,” explained Snag. “Fuckin’good meat at that, even when made out of mutated pigs. I'll take her sandwich, I have a vegetarian MRE here,” he offered.
“Could be worse,” replied Strider, throwing the tinfoil-wrapped sandwich he had to Snag.
“So you’re vegetarian, eh?” asked the rookie. “Weird for someone in the Zone.”
“Herbivore, actually, though I can eat eggs, milk and baked products too,” I clarified, opening Snag’s ‘MRE’.
‘Vegetable lasagna’? huh.
The whole thing was wrapped in a brown plastic, which in turn contained more brown bags and a ‘flameless ration heater’. Using the instructions on the plastic wrapping, I used it to heat up my meal, giving the thing a wary glance.
“She also arrived in the Zone by accident,” pointed out Strider.
Not bothering with silverware, I levitated the whole ‘lasagna’ thing and took a bite out of it. It looked strange but I was too hungry to care about the aesthetics of my meal.
Meh. Not what I expected but could be worse.
“That I did,” I nodded. “I still remember that episode with the dogs and the chopper… feels like ages but it was only a few days ago.”
Strider put a hand on my shoulder. “You have been through much in the meantime.”
I took another bite of lasagna. “We all have.”
“So she’s vegetarian,” affirmed the rookie.
“Herbivore,” countered Strider.
“Vegetarian.”
“Herbivore.”
“Vegetarian.”
“Herbivore.”
“Herbivore that can digest -I quote- eggs, milk and baked goods too -end of quote,” stated the young stalker, “which imply that you can digest proteins, degrade animal cells -cytoplasm, organelles and cytoplasmic walls- and have all the necessary enzymes to be an omnivore. Meaning? Not eating meat is purely a cultural thing or a personal choice. So... vegetarian.”
Snag stopped munching on his sandwich and paused. “Well, fuck.”
Vano stopped eating as well. “Flawless logic,” he admitted. “What did you study to know that kind of stuff anyway?”
“Basic biology, eleventh grade,” replied the young stalker with a laugh. “I just happen to have a good memory.”
“Huh. I was more versed into literature and History.”
I just sat there, lasagna held up in my telekinesis, pondering at the rookie’s affirmations. His logic was sound, but there was one thing that didn’t fit with his explanation.
“How come she lacks a proper omnivorous dentition then?” asked Strider, catching up on my thinking.
“You tell me,” shrugged the rookie. “She’s got an equine body structure but much more human body language, six functional limbs that allow her to run on four legs around AND fly, telekinesis and eyes way too big to leave any room for her brain in her skull. A big ‘fuck you’ to science and logic in a nutshell.”
“I know, right?” asked Snag. “First time I saw her I thought I was hallucinating.”
Vano rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and you assumed she was a mutant.”
“What else could she have been? An alien from outer space?”
“Well yes,” replied Strider with a chuckle. “We were going to get the scientists at Yanov trying to decipher her mystery but some… events happened and we had to take a detour to here.”
“That’s where we’re headed now,” I added. “They do owe us a few answers.”
“I am willing to bet they have nothing to do with this whole mess,” sighed Strider, “which will leave us with even less answers. We just have to kill this Jackal Merc and his henchmen before they do.”
“Well, we did get rid of quite a lot of their minions and we’re still standing so I’d say we’re not doing too bad,” replied Vano with a smile.
I like walking, I really do. When I walk I feel like I never want to stop, always moving forward. I always check all angles, enjoying every sight in the meantime. The Zone may not be the prettiest place in the world as I have been told, but it does have its moments.
I also never seem to tire. While Snag and Rookie were showing signs of fatigue after several hours of trekking, neither Vano or me were winded in the slightest. Vano could thank his exosuit for carrying its own weight, his gear and even his own body weight but I did not have power armor. Instead, I was carrying over twenty kilograms just in weapons and ammo, along with a suit of armor weighing about fifteen kilograms and over five more kilos of other miscellaneous gear. I have to admit though, I could feel my new sniper rifle on my back.
I was not worried about Celestia, she had proved to be stronger than she looked, in every sense of the term -I still had marks from the night before, despite my recently acquired healing factor- and she was flying her cloud anyway, governing it like a flying boat with her giant wings.
We had crossed the tunnel to the area around Jupiter already and were almost to the Yanov station, I could see Zulu’s deserted tower in the distance, the red of its bricks contrasting sharply against the grey, cloudy sky. Yanov station was not our goal, however. We had agreed that we would go directly to the scientists’ bunker where we could hopefully spend the night.
The walk had been fairly peaceful, only interrupted by a few mutants occasionally attacking us in small groups, nothing hard to deal with considering our numbers.
I reached to my radio. “Snowball this is Cuddles. Anything to report?”
“Nothing. The sky is grey, there’s a bit of wind and thank you again for the scarf,” replied my alicorn over the radio.
I chuckled. “You’re welcome.”
“Wait a second… who are these guys?” came her voice through the radio.
“Where?”
“South South-West, on the ridge of the hill.”
I took my binoculars and scanned the designated area, searching for any trace of stalkers. I found nothing except for trees, bushes and stakes delimiting an old road, invisible since it was on top of the hill.
Then I saw something peak over the hill a few hundred meters away. A black shape contrasting on the bright grey background of the sky. It was a man wearing an exoskeleton, walking in our general direction. It was soon followed by another well equipped stalker, then another, then three others, spread out in an arrow formation.
I was about to put my binoculars away when I saw something that made my blood freeze.
One of them had pulled out a rocket launcher and was aiming it in our direction.
“RPG! GET DOWN!” I yelled, laying flat on the ground.
*pomf shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh*
*KABOOM*
Seconds later, the report of a rocket being fired came to my ears, instantly followed by a huge explosion much too close to us for comfort; thankfully only showering us with dirt and mud instead of heat, over pressurized air and shrapnel.
*clac* *clac*
*clac*
*clac* *weeeeee*
It was instantly followed by a hail of bullets cracking as they flew around us, establishing that this rocket was not a misfire and was obviously aimed at us, intending to takes us out.
“I’M HIT! I’M HIT!” came Rookie’s distressed voice.
I crawled through the muddy, melted snow to the young stalker, who was squirming on the ground. Once I reached him, I put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him behind a bush, out of sight of our attackers.
I knelt over him. “Where are you hit?” I half-yelled half-asked over the sound of cracking bullets and automatic gunfire.
Rookie coughed blood, moaning in pain. “M-my chest-t it hurts, it hurts! O-ostanovi krov'! YA ne khochyu umiraaat'!!!”
I examined his chest, only to find a bullet, flattened on a part in the lower chest area of the young man’s ballistic vest. A thorough examination revealed a broken rib and possible internal bleeding and lung injury, which of which being confirmed by his ragged breath and the amount of blood he was coughing.
From my kneeling position, I put a hand on his shoulder. “Okay Rookie, I want you to do three things: do not panic, use your healing artifact and RETURN FIRE!” I yelled, trying to cover the sounds of gunfire.
The young stalker looked at me, a glint of panic and doubt in his eyes before he coughed again and produced his artifact from a pouch in his pants. He placed it against his chest and gave a relieved sigh, sat up and gave me a nod.
I turned around.
Not bothering to try to find solid cover that was nowhere near our position, I unslung my anti material rifle and took a knee, hoping that the bullets now whizzing past us would miss their mark.
Suddenly, the oncoming gunfire stopped for some reason.
Profiting of the occasion, I reached towards my radio. “OPEN FIRE!” I yelled, before returning fire with quick squeezes of the trigger.
Two shots later, the exoskeleton-clad grenadier hit the ground, two fifty caliber holes in the armor plating on his chest.
A few seconds later, my fire was joined by Vano’s machine gun and Snag’s rifle going full auto along with Rookie’s bolt action rifle. In the corner of my eye, I saw Celestia shooting her marksman rifle from her cloud.
Our quick response and combined fire drew our attackers to back off over the ridge of the hill they had attacked us from.
“All units, move forward!” I ordered. “Snowball, dish them out! I want a line of sight on these fuckers! Do not let them retreat!”
“Copy,” replied my alicorn.
In the corner of my eye, I saw her take off from her cloud, A2000 SMG held aloft in the glow of her telekinesis. At the same time, the others began advancing, spread a few meters apart in a line.
I stayed in my post, only advancing once the others were a hundred meters ahead of me. Keeping my sniper rifle leveled, I moved forward, covering my friend’s advance while Celestia was busy doing strafing runs, pushing our attackers back at us.
She was doing a wonderful job. She flew in a eight-shaped loop pattern, descending and firing on her target then climbing up, hiding in the clouds while she turned around; then descended again, flying in the opposite direction while unleashing automatic gunfire. The rich colors of her mane and tail, her white wings and her Monolith-like camouflage blended in perfectly with the colors of the sky, making her hard to spot among the grey/white clouds. pierced by sunlight here and there. In less than half a dozen runs, she managed to get our attackers back away from her and right into Snag, Vano and Rookie’s fire.
Less than a minute later, it was all over.
I reached at my radio. “Cease fire.”
Instantly, the loud reports of automatic weapons ceased.
I stood up and rejoined the others, who were already looting the dead bodies on the ground. I was halfway there when Celestia flew past me, making me stumble and almost fall to the ground. She then did a few loops in the air, before she folded her wings, engaging in a free falling corkscrew.
At the last moment, she opened her wings and pulled up, skidding to a halt on the muddy ground, skillfully balancing herself as not to tip over.
“Dibs on the exoskeleton!” she announced.
I raised an eyebrow at her remark. It was strange to see her out of all people say that. I shrugged it off and walked past another lifeless corpse when the rifle laying next to it catched my attention.
I held a breath and knelt next to the body.
Oh goodie!
I examined the exoskeleton-clad corpse, trying to figure out a way to get it out of the armor. It seemed to be a lighter version of Vano’s power armor; the armor and the actual powered exosuit apparently were two separate parts: the metal skeleton seemed to be attached on a special chassis integrated to the armored suit, which meant that with some work, it could be fitted to another suit.
I turned around, and gave Strider a scrutinizing look, while he was absorbed in examining a rifle he had found on the corpse he was looting to notice. I knew he didn’t want to show it but his new sniper rifle visibly weighed him down.
I smirked, pulled a screwdriver out of my backpack and got to work.
We were almost to the scientists’ bunker, the weather had cleared up somewhat, no sign of hostiles could be seen anywhere nearby and we had gathered outstandingly good loot from the Mercs that had attacked us.
I smiled and examined my new rifle. Its finish was scraped in many places and it looked like it had seen better days but I knew better. Its internals were pristine and a few tests shots had revealed that it was just way more accurate than my previous carbine.
But one thing set it apart from other rifles: its unique two-round burst mode. It also was a very rare weapon, only issued to Spetsnaz experts... like my previous carbine.
I grinned.
Finally my very own ‘armor killer’.
Vano had added a RPG-7 to his collection of ordnance, strengthening his position as the heavy hitter of our group. The hand-held anti-tank grenade launcher was slung across his back, keeping company to his shotgun. Snag had a new pistol, a Glock by the looks of it and Rookie had inherited of my old AKS-74u along with the Micro Uzi he had found.
Celestia had put away her shotgun and abandoned her SMG for a Minimi machine gun -paratrooper version, something that made me chuckle at how fitting it was. She also was carrying a heavy load on her back, smiling and giggling to herself like Vano does when he is drunk or scheming something. Or both.
I suppose I will learn what she has in mind soon enough.
We were finally arrived at the bunker. It was big, angular and grey, with a camouflage net spread over the top superstructures. A few Mercs were patrolling around it, occasionally chatting with a group of well-equipped stalkers sitting around a campfire a few meters from the main door and a couple of the mercenaries were on the roof too.
“So, what do we do?” asked Snag.
“We go in,” I simply replied, lowering my newly acquired AN-94.
“Fair enough,” shrugged Celestia. “Let’s see what happens.”
We walked out of the bushes and slowly approached the door of the bunker. The Mercs instantly spotted us but showed no signs of hostility, allowing us to walk right up to the door.
“Stalkers! You must holster your weapons by the entrance to the research facility!” came a voice in the door interphone.
“Do what he says,” I announced.
We put our guns away and I looked up at the camera over the door. Seconds later, it opened with a creak, letting us in a pressurized airlock. Why a bunker inside the Zone needed such a thing eluded me, but I shrugged and walked inside, closely followed by Celestia and the others.
Once we were all in, the door to the outside closed, leaving us trapped in the airlock. It was a tight fit in there, with all five of us. To my relief, the other door opened a few seconds later, revealing a dull interior mostly made out of metal: floor, walls, ceiling, everything was made out of metal, lit by neon tubes on the ceiling. I walked out of the airlock and into a contorted corridor with doorways on the left. At the end of the corridor, a man wearing a high-end exoskeleton was leaning on a counter, discussing with whoever was on the other side.
I cleared my throat, making our presence known.
The man at the counter turned towards us and took off his helmet. “Vano! Strider! What is my favorite imbecile and his bitter friend doing here?”
“Alexander?” came Vano’s voice.
“Alex?” Asked Snag.
I could not believe my eyes. “Major?”
“Who’s that guy?” asked Rookie.
“Strider, who is he?” I worriedly asked my beloved.
The man in front of us laughed. Not a dreadful laugh, but a genuinely amused laugh, as if what I said was an enormous idiocy.
“You may know me as The Major, the Pripyat Dweller, the Lone Wanderer, the Friend of Stalkers, the Courier of Justice, the Diplomat, the Pioneer, but that would be The Colonel now,” he said. “You must be the famous Angel of Death everyone has been talking about lately.”
I opened my mouth and raised an eyebrow. “Angel of Death?”
