“Peace,” he greets them. “We’re just Loners on our way to Yanov.”
“Whoever you are, you really helped us out. Thanks!” the Freedom commander replies. “We’ll chat later but first, let’s see to this fellow here. I’m gonna patch him up first and then interrogate.”
“How?”
“By a great display of teamwork,” the Freedomer says as he takes a first-aid kit from his rucksack and tends to the Monolithian’s wound. “Tolik and Kolya will grab him, I’ll count till three and then they throw him into the nearest anomaly.”
“Are you joking?”
“Yes. Kolya, help him up and bring him to that log hut. We’ll stay there for the night.”
“Always me,” the Freedomer called Kolya grumbles but drags the Monolithian on his feet.
“My name is Che,” the Freedom leader says. “We lost two good men to these fanatics but it would’ve been more without you showing up. Before you ask—we have nothing in a way of reward, if that’s why you’re looking at me like kids at Santa Claus.”
“I’d be pleased enough if you let me keep the Preacher’s VAL rifle,” Tarasov says.
“Oh, that’s why you’ve that look on your face,” Che replies, smiling. “It’s yours, along with anything else you find, except intel. Maps, PDAs and all stuff like that belong to Freedom. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Perfect. Unless you insist on marching through the Red Forest at night, join us in the log hut.”
“Who are these guys actually?” asks the Top when Che has left.
“Daredevils and anarchists,” Tarasov replies. “I like their company but loathe their ideas.”
“What are their ideas?”
“Officially, to share the Zone’s secrets with the whole world. In reality, to let Western powers steal those secrets from us Ukrainians. Why, where do you think they got all that NATO gear from?”
“I’m not much into local politics, Mikhailo, but we’d better accept their offer. If something nasty comes out of this forest at night it’s better to have more guns around.”
Tarasov looks up into the sky where bright stars shine on the deep blue sky. In a few minutes it will be dark.
“I’m with the Top,” Pete says.
“Right then,” Tarasov concludes seeing that Nooria also nods. “Just don’t tell these guys that we’re going to join the Bandits.”
He takes the silenced, 9mm caliber assault rifle from the Preacher and pats down the corpse for anything valuable.
“I’ve been wanting this rifle ever since I left for the New Zone,” Tarasov says, eyeing his new possession with satisfaction. “But a Gauss rifle would have been even better… Anyway, if not even their Preachers are equipped with coil guns anymore it means we really gave them a beating after Operation Fairway.”
“Coil guns? Jesus!”
“Their god is called Wish Granter, Top.”
The Freedomers have already lit up a small campfire inside the log hut. Two bodies lie outside with a blanket pulled over their faces. With darkness falling, the first mutants begin to howl in the forest outside.
“I think we made the right decision,” Hartman observes.
Tarasov bows his head for a greeting as they enter the log hut. It smells like earth and damp wood inside. One of the five Freedomers is about to make a campfire, cussing under his breath at the soggy branches not catching fire. Three of his comrades are wearing bandages, apparently to treat the wounds suffered during the ambush. The fighters called Tolik and Kolya flank the captured Monolithian while Che is rolling an improbably big joint.
“I kinda like these fellows,” Pete says with his eyes shining.
“If you even reach for that stuff I gonna break your damn hand,” Hartman grumbles.
“Hey hello, our nameless saviors!” one of the wounded fighters says for a greeting. “Are you looking for a safe place?”
“Yeah,” Tarasov answers.
“Well, buddy,” the Freedomer drawls, “then you’re at the best place. Freedom will watch over you tonight!”
“That’s very reassuring,” Tarasov says.
Meanwhile, Che has lit up the joint. He removes the prisoner’s helmet and the hazmat mask. A young and handsome face appears, though the look in his eyes is empty.
“Oh Monolith, why did you abandon us,” he whispers.
“I haven’t the foggiest idea buddy, but this will help your imagination.” Che draws on the joint and then forces it between the prisoner’s lips. “Attaboy. Now take a deep breath or I shoot you.”
No one is surprised when the prisoner prefers to inhale.
“So, how many of you are there in Limansk? I’ve shared this first-class weed with you, you must have very base reasons for not telling us about your base.”
The prisoner’s eyes are still empty as he looks at Che, who chuckles about his own pun.
“Limansk? Base?”
“You’re cool, man! Yes, I asked you about your base in Limansk!”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, keep on smoking that weed. Good, ain’t it?”
For the first time, something resembling a smile appears on the Monolithian’s face. “Uh-hum.”
“Okay, listen up,” the Freedomer called Kolya says. “A Dutyer visits the 100 Rads and tells Barkeep, ‘I want to buy the Goldfish artifact, everyone has one, only I am like an idiot!’ Barkeep says, ‘But it’s radioactive! What do you want to do with it?’ The Dutyer replies, ‘Radioactive, radiopassive, who cares? It’s not like I’ll put it down my pants, I’ll keep it on a chain!’”
He looks at the Monolithian with expectation and laughs.
“You get it, patsan? He doesn’t know what radioactivity is, haha!”
“Hehe. That’s good,” the Monolithian replies with a grin.
“Alright, buddy. You see, we’re going out of our way to make you feel good. Spill it — how many people in your assault group in Limansk?”
“I’m not telling you bastards anything! Do what you want!”
“You like that stuff, eh? Just think about it — we’ll give you a pack of weed for every man you name in your team!”
“Haha! Do you crazy anarchists really think I would sell out my Monolith brothers for ten packs of weed?”
The Freedomers exchange a puzzled glance, then burst out laughing. Seeing how the apparently easy-minded Monolithian let himself be fooled, Tarasov too slaps his forehead and chuckles.
“What are they talking about?” the Top asks.
“Tell you later,” Tarasov replies, still chuckling.
“All right… This is where the fun ends,” Che says wiping a tear from his eye. He turns to Tarasov and tries to sound serious. “You guys feel like joining us on a trip to Limansk?”
“No, sorry. We have to find an artifact for Barkeep,” Tarasov cautiously replies. “He gave us forty-eight hours to find it, otherwise the deal is off.”
“Damn,” Che sighs. “I can’t take a Monolith stronghold with four men… We better make it back to base and come back with reinforcements.”
“I guess we have no other choice with our new friends preferring to hunt for artifacts instead Monolithians,” Kolya says. “Eh, damn Loners… thinking only about themselves. Why don’t you broaden your perspective for a change? Join the good fight!”
“Kolya, agitation and propaganda is my job,” Che says checking his assault rifle for any dirt spots that might require cleaning. “Give these guys a break, will you?”
“What if they would give us a break? Always the same — they come to our base, beg us for supplies and all, but when it comes to the fight for freedom in the Zone… We are fighting for you, Stalkers!”
“Is that so?” Tarasov asks in a voice betraying his lack of interest.
“It’s a fight of the Stalkers for the Stalkers. Freedom is an armed nuclear—nucleo—” Kolya looks at Che, expecting him to help out.
“Nucleus,” his commander sighs.
“Yeah, that’s it. Nu
cleus. The fighting avantgarde of the Stalkers—”
“Vanguard, not avantgarde,” Che says and takes a small book from a pocket on his armor vest. “Avantgarde means paintings of naked women looking like a pile of cubes. Rodchenko and all that. Here, educate yourself better before you try agitating others.”
“Yes, commander,” Kolya shamefully says and opens the book in the light of the headlamp fastened to his helmet. Its title says Guerilla warfare.
“How’s Ashot doing?” Tarasov asks the commander to make the Freedomers change the subject. He knows very well that Freedom’s former arm dealer has moved to the New Zone but is curious to hear more of the story.
“Ashot?” Che says with a smile playing around his mouth. “He left for the New Zone.”
“Some Mercenaries were after him, sent by another trader or so I heard,” adds Kolya. ”Ashot had cut under the agreed price. All about the damn money, of course.”
“Really? Because I heard a different story,” the third Freedomer says who in the meantime had managed to make a small fire. He takes off his gloves and warms his hands at the still weak flame.
“How cold you Nika? You weren’t even in the Dark Valley base in the old days.”
“I wasn’t, but a guy at Yanov told me he heard it from another guy who was on patrol with the guys from Dark Valley…”
“That’s what I call first hand intel,” Che says with a smile.
“It went like this: after a long day of repairing equipment, Uncle Yar returned to the tent he used to share with Ashot. As he approached, he noticed the tent was shaking violently.”
“That’s why I hate having canned beans for dinner,” Kolya says.
“Anyway, Yar slowly drew his combat knife and pistol. Walking up to the flap he slowly opened it. He saw the rumble of shadows and heard the lustful moans of Ashot—and some strange growls.”
“Ashot moaning while having sex is okay but a gun barrel growling?”
“Stop interrupting me, goddammit! So Yar thought to himself, Damn! What kind of whore did Ashot get his hands on? He walked over to turn on the light. The rambling in Ashot’s bed came to a halt. With wide eyes, Ashot looked at the body on top of him. He yelled ’H-HOLY S-SHIT!!’ and leapt out of the bed. Yar stood there like a statue, seeing a bloodsucker purring and looking at Ashot affectionately.”
“Yeah! That’s what!” Kolya says, laughing.
“Was it at least a female one?” Che asks.
“Whatever. Ashot left next morning in shame and never came back.”
“You know what? Funniest part is I can actually believe it,” Kolya says.
“Yeah… Ashot and Yar, “ Che says with a sigh. ”The good old days. Less Duty, more fun…”
After their laughter that Tarasov couldn’t resist sharing, silence falls. Only the wounded Monolithian keeps whispering.
“Monolith… oh Monolith… why did you…”
“Shut up,” Che suddenly says and puts his hand on the prisoner’s mouth. “Did you hear that?”
“What?” Tarasov whispers back.
Che reaches for his weapon. “Wait—listen!”
“I don’t hear a thing, commander,” Kolya says but he too works his rifle’s safety off.
“That’s it—it’s dead quiet in the forest. No mutants, nothing!”
“Top, Pete,” Tarasov whispers. “Weapons at ready. Something’s not right.”
He moves closer to the door and listens. Che was right — not as much as a single blind dog howls in the deep night. Even the croak of the ravens has died off.
“Emission approaching?” Nika asks under his breath.
Che shakes his head. “No—the mutants are scared.”
“What would scare a mutant?”
Che has no time to answer. All of a sudden, something heavy impacts on the roof of the log hut, followed by a deep, gurgling growl.
“Chimera,” Che yells, ”it’s a chimera!”
“Let’s get the hell out of here!” a panic-stricken Nika shouts. “The roof is about to collapse on us!”
“No!” Tarasov shouts back. “Stay close to the walls! Nooria, get into that corner! Top, Pete, stay in front of her!”
“What the hell is happening?”
“We just became the lowest on the Zone’s food chain!”
The two Freedomers don’t wait for Che’s command and open fire. The bullets tear through the rotten wood and apparently hit the still unseen mutant, because the growling from above gets louder and angrier.
“Wait!” Tarasov shouts through the noise of gunfire. “You’ll just piss it off! Don’t waste your ammo!”
Suddenly, two of the beams bulge and fall directly into the fire, sending up a cluster of sparks. Nika, who was closest to the fire, falls to the ground and moans from pain. This probably saves his life—a long arm reaches inside through the hole of the roof and two curved claws, as long as a man’s forearm, scythe the air where the Freedomer was standing just a heartbeat ago. Missing him, they carve into Kolya’s chest, lifting up the hapless fighter who is still firing his weapon. The mutant’s arm disappears together with its prey. Another beam falls when the chimera’s limbs thrust the massive body off the roof, with Kolya’s scream marking the direction of its jump. It dies off before bushes rattle not far from the hut, marking the spot where the mutant has landed with its prey.
“Holy Jesus, what the fuck was that?” Pete asks. His voice is trembling.
“The top of the Zone food chain,” Tarasov says and exchanges a worried glance with Che. “We’re trapped here!”
“Nika! You still in one piece?”
“Think so,” the fighter replies as he gets to his feet. “That beam fell right on my shoulder, goddammit!”
“It saved your wretched life,” Tarasov observes.
“For the moment only!”
As if in reply to Nika’s panicked words, the growl is back. Heavy steps circle around the hut, as if the chimera were looking for the best angle to attack.
“Jesus, one body was not enough?” Pete sighs.
“Appetite comes with eating,” the Top replies eyeing the hole in the roof and holding his AK ready to shoot.
“We either wait until it tears down the whole hut or we do something!” Tarasov turns to the Freedom commander.
“Bozhe moi, he got Kolya,” Nika moans. “He will get us all!”
“Stop whining,” Che commands.
With another jump, the chimera lands on the roof once more, now hacking its claws into another beam and tearing it off. The Top looks up and fires his weapon. For a second, his headlamp illuminates a head like that of a tiger, only that this has no fur and the open mouth reveals a cruel, teeth-flashing grin. However, this is not what makes even the hardened warrior scream, neither is it the sight of the predator’s massive hulk that appears for a second in the light when the mutant jumps off the roof.
“It has two heads! Two freaking heads!”
“That damn beast is teasing us,” Tarasov says. “We’re sitting ducks here!”
“I’m the only one wearing armor that gives me a chance,” Che says after a moment of quick thinking. He draws his combat knife. “I’ll take it on outside.”
“No!”
All eyes are suddenly fixed on Nooria. “I am quicker and my blade is better,” she says.
“No way!” her three male companions shout back at once.
“But—”
“No, woman!” Tarasov shouts. “Stay in cover!”
“Now that’s what I call resolve.” Che grins but Tarasov can see his lips trembling with fear. “I’ll step out. It can’t pounce at me between the hut and the bus wreck, the place is too limited for it to leap. I’ll try to stab its face. As soon as it gets close to me, I’ll try to lure it in front of the door. Fire all that you have. Will you have my back?”
Tarasov nods. “We won’t let you down.”
He switches from the silenced rifle to the AK that is still slung over his shoulder and reloads it with a fu
ll magazine. “Change your mags now. Wait for my fire. Top, you fire second. Pete, then you. Nika, can you hold your weapon? Good. You fire last. We don’t want to be reloading at the same time.” The men nod. Magazines click in the breach as they all prepare their weapons. “All ready? Then—Svoboda vperyod, Che!”
Che takes his helmet from the ground, wipes the dirt off and dons it. The growls accompanying it make them all feel as if the mutant outside were savoring the moment, knowing that its prey has no chance to escape.
“Damn thing is playing cat and mouse with us,” the Top breathes.
Che peeks out into the twilight and the dark forest around. He listens to the hulking steps.
“I’m counting on you, people,” he whispers and steps out of the half-collapsed log hut.
A second of silence follows, as if the chimera itself were surprised over the willingness of its prey to die.
“Hey! Chuda pryrody!” Che shouts. “What's the good of having two heads if you only got one dick?”
The mutant doesn’t need to be taunted. The impact of its massive body makes the rusty metal shriek as it jumps onto the bus wreck. It growls once more and looks at the Freedomer, as if hesitating between its hunger and instinct that might warn it of a trap. However, compared to its hulk, the human standing there appears utterly weak even in his heavy armor.
Then it jumps, landing in front of Che and slashes at him. Swiftly, the fighter takes a step to the side to dodge the attack and recoils. The chimera follows him, directly to the spot where Tarasov and the others don’t even need to aim in order to hit it in the side.
Four automatic assault rifles start barking, unleashing a hail of bullets into the mutant. The chimera roars, with its attention now divided between the closest prey and the others. Its right head growls at the shooters while the teeth in the mouth of the left snap after Che. For a second it appears to hesitate where to push with the attack—it has two heads but only four legs, the fangs can’t reach the shooters and it needs the claws on both front legs to slash the man in front of him. With good reflexes, Che uses its confusion to dodge another attack. A moment later, when the chimera instinctively turns both heads to its right where the pain from the impacting bullets must be horrendous even for a mutant of its size, he takes the knife in both hands and slams it into one of the distorted heads with all force.
S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Northern Passage s-2 Page 45