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From the Zone with love	By : deepsearuin Category: +S through Z > S.T.A.L.K.E.R: Shadows of Chernobyl Views: 943 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own S.T.A.L.K.E.R., nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
The guns Doc had were still in good condition. Strelok had feared the dampness of the place would have affected them somehow. Armed again, he was ready to brave the swamps once more. Checking the map on his PDA, he deduced the place where the renegades had tried to take them to was the Pumping Station. While he was at it, Strelok decided to track Scar's PDA. He was curious to see where the mercenary was. Not worried, just curious, alright?
The marker pointed to a location close to the Pumping Station, right in the middle of the watery fields. Had the merc had the same idea as Strelok? But he wasn't armed, as far as he knew. And the marker wasn't moving, not even one inch. Doc came back with the ammo for the P99, and Strelok shut down the PDA, feeling suddenly nervous.
"I would tell you to be careful, but I know you well enough." Doc handed him some bandages, clearly foreseeing trouble in his future.
"You wound me, Doc." He carelessly shoved the bandages and the PDA on his pocket.
"One day you'll end up badly, Strelok." Doc sighed the familiar warning. Last time he heard it was before everything went to hell. He hoped this time things wouldn't go south like that.
With such ominous farewell, and another reminder from Doc to be careful, Strelok left Doc's home. He was barely out of the door when he had to check the map, since he had no idea in which direction he should go. And then he felt the need to check on Scar's location again. The marker still pointed the same place. Why hadn't he moved in all this time? Was he wounded? Or worse. Ugh, he would have to check it out personally. He needed to know.
The trip was mostly uneventful, except for a clash with a small herd of fleshes. He took down one of them and critically wounded another before the rest ran away in fear. Soon he arrived to the vast extensions of water, surrounded by a thick mass of half-rotten grass and dried reeds. The Pumping Station wasn't very far from here. Supposedly, they had run through here when fleeing from the renegades, but all Strelok remembered were the reeds smacking him on the face, and how difficult it was to run through mud and water.
According to his PDA, Scar wasn't very far. Strelok got closer and closer to the marked location, and still no sign of the merc's presence. A ball of anxiety was lodged on his stomach. The incessant buzz of the machinery only served to irritate him further.
However, he got to the position marked on the map and still no trace of Scar. What the hell? Strelok looked around confused, trying to get a glimpse of anything out of place in this sea of vegetation. Nothing. That was weird. Was his PDA broken? These things were supposed to be durable and sturdy, but nothing was infallible. Just as he decided to leave, he stepped on something hard and flat. His weight had pushed it deep against the silt, and Strelok had to dig the item out of the mud. It was a PDA with the screen slightly cracked.
A shot rang out and Strelok dived to the ground in an instinctive move, trying to find cover. The renegades at the Pumping Station were shooting at someone, but luckily that someone wasn't him. Strelok waited a few more seconds, but he hadn't been spotted. Judging by the cacophony loud enough to be heard over the buzz of the machinery motor, they were pretty busy. It was unlikely they would notice him.
Feeling more or less sure no one would notice him, he pocketed the dirty PDA and approached the Pumping Station. The platform looked empty from this side. All the renegades were on the other two walkways, shooting like their lives depended on it. To be fair, their lives probably depended on it, even if Strelok wasn't seeing anyone directly attacking them. Well, that was about to change. Strelok used the distraction to sneak up behind a lone renegade, who didn't notice his presence until it was too late. Not even a miracle could have saved him from two bullets to the head shot at point blank range. And no one noticed it, thanks to the constant noise of the machinery's motor and the gunshots from the other renegades.
Strelok kicked the corpse aside and noticed he'd been carrying a Dragunov. Nice, he'd always wanted to try one. He took the dead guy's sniper rifle and surveyed the field ahead of him through the scope. He saw a renegade on the closest walkway, aiming his Viper at something Strelok couldn't see. The Dragunov was loud enough to leave his ears ringing, but it was extremely satisfying to fire. The renegade he'd been targeting fell like a fly, revealing a stunned Scar behind him.
Maybe it was the adrenalin high of finally firing a Dragunov, or the shock of seeing Scar, but an effervescent elation spread through him. Grinning like an idiot, Strelok went back to killing renegades. Another two guys had noticed Scar and were coming for him. Strelok shot at one and Scar took down the other. Enjoying his newfound role as a sniper, Strelok covered Scar while he killed a renegade on the opposing end of the platform. A wounded renegade climbed upon the walkway, right behind Scar. Strelok sent him down to the water again, this time permanently. He also saved a young man in white and blue camo from being shot in the back. It was a shame those rifles were too heavy for him to carry around in his backpack, he really liked it. Also, he had run out of bullets. What a shame, indeed.
All the renegades were now dead, but he had the nagging suspicion there should have been more, their numbers seemed too small in comparison of what he remembered from before. Perhaps the mossy bloodsucker had been responsible for that, who knows. The important thing was that the fight was over, and Scar and the other guy converged on his position. Who was the guy in uniform, by the way? He looked young like a rookie, but his attire looked suspiciously like Clear Sky's. That could also explain why he was aiming his shotgun at Strelok.
"Put that down, you idiot." Scar said to the young man, accompanied by a nasty glare. "Can't you see he helped us?"
The rookie lowered his shotgun and watched in confusion as Scar raised his arm like he was about to give a one armed hug to Strelok, but in the end he just clapped him on the back. "So good to see you alive."
"Loose something recently?" Strelok produced the dirty and cracked PDA from one of his pockets, ignoring the brief stab of disappointment he felt because hadn't been expecting a hug, of course not.
"How did you find that? Did you track me?" Strelok just offered him a half hearted shrug, not wanting to admit anything. The mercenary's slow smirk was infuriating and he wanted to wipe it out. He would have most probably done something rash if the Clear Sky rookie hadn't stepped into the conversation.
"Did you know each other from before?" He still looked confused, but he didn't look at Strelok with suspicion anymore.
"We were travelling together and got separated." Was all Scar offered.
The guy blinked once and thankfully kept his mouth shut instead of asking more questions. He seemed nice enough, but he was from Clear Sky, Strelok would bet his life on it. And he would prefer it if no one from Clear Sky ever noticed he was the same stalker their leader had wanted to kill, or stop, or whatever they had called it.
After a thorough search of the Pumping Station and all the corpses, their weapons were still missing. And no trace of their backpacks. Strelok hadn't seen Mr. Frog-eyes among the dead either. That could only mean there were more of them in another base.
"I bet the rest of them must be holed up on the Village ruins or the Tuzla outpost." Scar decided after a cursory search of the area map.
"They have a base on the village ruins." Doc had already warned him of that.
"How are you so sure?" The mercenary questioned him.
"I have my sources." Yes, it was unnecessarily pompous and Strelok did it on purpose. Scar found it amusing.
"And that source would be the same mysterious friend you wanted to visit?" Damn Scar for guessing it right on the first try.
"But the boss only wanted to clear the renegades at the Pumping Station," the rookie was bewildered by Scar's decision to go to the Village ruins, possibly afraid he would want to be paid more.
"And so we did. Tell him I'll come back for my payment later," Scar ignored the rookie's complaints about not giving the pistol back, since it apparently was Clear Sky's property, and left the Pumping Station with Strelok.
"Falling in with Clear Sky again?" Strelok said as soon as they were out of earshot from the bewildered rookie.
"More like taking advantage of their situation," Scar clarified. None of them made any other mention to the elephant in the room that was Scar's last mission on Clear Sky's behalf. Better to let the past lie in the past.
The place they were seeking was to the north of the swamp, a good trek away from here. Halfway to their destination they found a group of four of blind dogs, in an area relatively clean of vegetation. The dogs were on the other side of the clearing, and one of them ran towards where they were, barking like mad. The other three followed suit. One second later the first dog was up in the air, like it was flying. Seconds later, it exploded in a rain of bloody pieces of flesh and bone splinters. It wasn't necessary to fire a single bullet against the dogs, the rest scattered away, yapping pitifully after their companion had been made mincemeat. Well, shit. Neither of them had noticed anything out of the ordinary, until the mutant exploded. These things usually created a faint distortion around them, but the most dangerous anomalies were really subtle. Not even throwing a bolt created a strong reaction, just a gust of wind and a brief wheezing sound from the sudden displacement of the air. Throwing bolts and paying attention carefully, they discovered there were only two anomalies there. Thank God it wasn't a big cluster, finding a way around just two anomalies wasn't very difficult.
Eventually they reached a point where the village ruins were visible in the distance. A couple of indistinct figures could be observed as well, but they were too far away to see properly how many renegades there were, or what kind of weapons they carried.
"I would kill for a pair of binoculars." Scar told him, squinting his eyes as he tried to count the number of enemies out in the open.
"I count three, I think." Strelok said, shielding his eyes with his hand from the late afternoon sun.
Those were not bad odds, but surely there would be more renegades hidden somewhere, ready to pour out at the smallest sign of conflict. So they decided to try a stealthy approach for once. Strelok crept across the plains, trying to remember everything Ghost ever taught him about sneaking in an open field.
By some miracle, they arrived to the outer perimeter of the village ruins without being discovered. Hidden behind a broken wall, pieces of a conversation arrived to them.
"... they're bleeding us... attack... the chopper..."
"... no chance... Tuzla outpost."
"Tell that to Butcher."
"... you moron... weapons..."
Well, wasn't this interesting. Completely unaware of their presence the renegades kept chatting, oblivious to their impending end. Strelok readied his AKM and nodded to Scar, who also checked his weapon before nodding back.
#
Gripping the worn gunstock of the looted AK, Scar took a deep breath and dived out from cover.
The renegades were a few meters away, having a smoke, and stared in stunned surprise as Scar and Strelok appeared from behind a wall and pumped them full of lead. Those wouldn't get up again. One of them was the man with the frog like eyes, and Scar felt a certain satisfaction from this. Who was ambushing whom now, bitch?
One guy had been lazily patrolling in the other side of the camp, and he came running at the sound of a firefight. Another three renegades came out from one of the houses, angry as hell and ready to fight. Scar retreated behind the same wall they'd been hidden before, and Strelok hid behind another ruined building. They were flanked by the renegades. Hoping Strelok would take care of the lone guy with the shotgun, he fired against the other three on the left. Being as close to each other as they were, hitting someone was easy enough. One of them went down, and another ran away like a coward. The remaining one took cover behind a wooden shack. On his part, Strelok had indeed taken care of the other guy, snatched his shotgun from him and was now advancing towards the wooden house. The renegade waited a moment before poking his face out, and Scar fired against him without much success. Didn't matter, it kept him distracted while Strelok got closer to him.
A shotgun blast echoed from behind the ruined building, and a few seconds later Strelok emerged with his SIG slung around the shoulder. The lucky bastard had already collected his weapons. No one had been carrying his Vintar, and Scar hoped it was stashed someplace here because sure as hell he wanted it back. Further north, the unmistakeable sound of a helicopter patrolling around could be heard faintly.
"I think there's one still missing." Strelok looked around, trying to see where the missing renegade could be hiding.
"Saw him ran like a coward," Scar was already rifling through the crates piled against one of the collapsed houses.
After an extensive search, they found their backpacks, Scar's Vintar, at least half a dozen different pistols, and a sizeable cache of varied ammo in a metal container in the cement building closest to the tower. They grabbed all the ammo they needed and left the rest. The sound of the helicopter had grown louder, accompanied by gunshots in the distance. So the military were cleaning the so called Tuzla outpost, presumably the last den of the renegades. They weren't doing this out of a particular hatred against bandits and other lowlifes, no; the military would shot at any stalker no matter his faction, except ecologists.
Better to get the hell out of here, before the military came to secure this place as well. But they couldn't bolt out of here yet. The distant sound of the helicopter had grown in intensity until it was almost deafening, and a quick peek from the window confirmed the helicopter was over the village ruins. Going out now would be suicide. So they waited until it turned around and became a progressively small figure in the distance.
Of course that was only the beginning of their troubles. The military had indeed advanced their position in the meantime, and they were close enough to notice Scar and Strelok when they finally got out of the ruined house. Scar only heard the beeping of their PDAs, indicating the approach of multiple persons, and then something was thrown in their direction. A small, rounded object rolled in the ground a few metres ahead of them. Strelok shoved him out of the way with a cry of "Get down!" and he dropped to the ground as fast as he could. The grenade exploded away from them, but the shockwave rattled them to the very bones.
His ears were ringing and his back hurt like he'd slammed against a brick wall, and yet the first thing Scar did was to check on Strelok. He seemed unharmed; good. Getting up was disorienting, but he managed to do it without stumbling, and even helped Strelok up as well. They needed to move, the soldiers were almost upon them.
If getting up had been difficult, running was a real challenge. He still felt somewhat uncoordinated and sluggish, the distorted sounds and ringing in his ears gave everything an air of unreality. But it was oh so real. They ran towards a semi collapsed wooden structure, hoping to hide behind it before the military shot them down or threw another grenade at them. A soldier appeared in front of them in the distance, popping out from between the buildings, pistol in hand. His shot seemed to miss the mark, thank goodness. Scar retaliated but he hadn't noticed the Vintar need to be reloaded first, damn. Strelok took care of it with his SIG, even if the stalker fired somewhat carelessly instead of aiming properly.
Once behind the wooden remnants of the house, Scar started sniping out the approaching soldiers. But there were too many, they would be inevitably overrun in the end. The soldiers had taken up position all over the village ruins, their only option was to turn around and run for their lives. Again. Fuck, he was sick of running up and down the swamp.
Soon it became apparent the military were herding them up north, shooting at their feet whenever they tried to go in another direction. Scar was puzzled by their behaviour until he recalled the military was holding the northern entrance to the Great Swamp. Shit, maybe they even had the chopper still in the air, ready to go after Strelok and him. If this was the case, they were as good as dead. However, if he remembered correctly, first they had to reach the train tracks. Maybe they could turn the tables on the military there, set up an ambush for the soldiers chasing them. He reached behind him and tugged at Strelok's arm in a silent request to speed up, and also to make sure he hadn't lost him this time. The pained gasp he received as answer was not something he expected.
Upon turning around to see what the matter was, Scar was greeted by an awful sight. Strelok held his right arm rigidly to the side, the whole sleeve of his suit darkened with blood. Judging by all the blood, he had been bleeding for a while now.
"Remember that soldier that appeared right in front of us?" Strelok's voice was strained as he tried to keep an air of calmness.
Scar was anything but calm. He honestly thought the soldier had failed the shot, it hadn't even occurred to him to ask Strelok if he was alright.
"Keep going, I'll follow you." Strelok reassured him. His words were difficult to believe when the blood still dripped down his arm. Nonetheless, they had no time to stop, the soldier were still hot on their heels.
They kept going, but at least they were close to their destination. The figure of a train loomed in the horizon. However, first awaited them another anomaly cluster, the distortions they caused in the air easily visible this time. There was no time to take the careful approach. Scar randomly threw some bolts around, ran ahead evading the anomalies as best as he could and hoped for the best. Strelok trailed after him, following in his same footsteps. Worst case scenario, if he stepped into a vortex, then Strelok would know to avoid that exact spot. Miraculously, this careless approach worked, and they left the anomaly field unscathed.
The collection of rusted train cars lay on the tracks, like a toy long ago forgotten. Instead of hopping into the open wagon, Scar tried to open one of the closed ones. It would be a less obvious hideout. Sadly, the years of neglect under the Swamp's damp weather had rendered the door useless. The rusted thing did not budge. Alright, the open wagon would have to suffice. Once inside the light was minimal and the flashlight became necessary. There was a lone crate shoved at the end of the carriage, and Scar made Strelok sit on it. The crate was probably as old as the train, and it did not resist under the strain of the stalker's weight. It collapsed and sent Strelok crashing to the floor. Scar squatted by his side and took off his backpack.
The first thing he noticed was how pale the stalker looked, although it could also be an effect of the unflattering direct light of the flashlight. The arm was a mess of blood. Scar poured water from one of their canteens to cleanse and assess the gunshot wound. A small entry hole and a clear exit wound. He'd seen people survive much worse, seems like Strelok had been lucky. Or as lucky as someone could be while still receiving a gunshot. The wound was kind of unremarkable, despite the bleeding. But if a major artery were hit the bleeding would be almost unstoppable and not this slow trickle, right?
Meanwhile, Strelok had rummaged around his backpack with the other hand, searching for something. When he found it, he handed a military issued medkit to Scar, who wasted no time in ripping it open. Scar shoved one of those clot promoting sponges over the gunshot wound, and then bandaged it over as tight as he dared. That should stop the bleeding.
The loudly voiced commands announced the imminent arrival of the soldiers. And seconds after, a harrowing scream announced that at least one soldier had stepped into an anomaly. Everyone in the Zone had seen it happen at least once, and it was very easy to picture one of the soldiers walking into the distortion wave in the air, instantly becoming a twisted heap that resembled a wrung rag, accompanied by the sickening crunch of bones breaking all over. No more screams followed, so the rest of the soldiers probably kept clear of the anomalies, advancing and coming closer to their hiding spot. Scar prayed they would keep walking, but it was an empty hope.
"Check every wagon!"
The entrance could act as a chokepoint, but only if nobody noticed the open door on the other side of the wagon. And if they threw grenade in here they were done for. And that counting they did not ask for reinforcements; the helicopter's weaponry would get through the thin steel walls like it was butter.
The sound of heavy footsteps came closer and closer. Scar used the scope of his Vintar to spy the movement going on outside. One of the soldiers was coming towards their wagon. He was alone, as far as he could see, but that was about to change. Upon seeing the open wagon, he quickly came to the right conclusion.
"Over here!" He shouted and other five soldiers came running, guns held high and ready to fire.
They were going to open fire against them at any moment now. Scar just hoped the metal walls of the wagon were thick enough to stop bullets, otherwise they virtually had no protection. The soldiers indeed started shooting, yet instead of firing at them, they were shooting in another direction. This was accompanied by cries of "What the fuck is that?"and "Don't let it come closer!"
As wonderful as this unexpected reprieve was, Scar didn't understand what was happening. Strelok was equally surprised. A quick peek outside revealed the reason of the soldier's agitation. Something that moved like a monkey was approaching them. It looked too human, almost like an old man, until you noticed his claw like hands or his abnormally elongated neck. Its whole body was oddly out of scale, too thin and long. Whatever this was, it wasn't something Scar had seen before.
While the military were busy freaking out and killing the new mutant, they seized the opportunity to flee. Using the other entrance to jump out of the wagon, they went in the opposite direction, without sparing a single glance behind. With a little luck, the soldiers wouldn't notice in which direction they escaped. And if not, at least they had a head start over them.
The marsh looked all the same to Scar, so he had no idea of how far they had arrived. It seemed like they were in the middle of nowhere. So far, no one seemed to be going after them, although the dying sun and ever present layer of fog in the horizon seriously diminished the visibility. The fleeting sensation of safety was thoroughly smashed by the sound of a helicopter in the distance, getting louder and closer with each passing second.
The flat terrain around them offered no cover. And there was nothing else around as far as they could see. They could also keep running, but sooner or later the chopper would catch up with them. Calling it a desperate situation was not an exaggeration. And it was going to get much worse. What neither of them imagined was the much worse part wouldn't be getting shot by the helicopter as they feared.
The dwindling sunlight gave everything a rusted tint, making the grass look like dried blood. Very fitting, Scar thought, as their end would be bloody if the helicopter detected them. A thunder rumbled in the distance. A nice torrential rain might actually help them, it would reduce the chopper's visibility.
Immersed in his thoughts as he was, Scar didn't notice anything amiss until Strelok made him stop. A pack of dogs was coming towards them, running like crazy. Strelok already had his SIG ready as best as he could, despite the reduced mobility of his right arm, prepared to open fire. Scar switched the Vintar for the pistol. But the dogs weren't coming for them. The mutants arrived at their position, ignoring their shots, and kept running and yapping like the devil itself was after them. No matter how hard they looked, neither Scar nor Strelok could see what scared the mutants like that. The only thing noticeable was the rumble of the helicopter, now dwarfed by the mounting storm. Oddly enough, Scar could have sworn the light was somewhat better now, brighter than before.
"Oh no," Strelok whisper of consternation was the last clue Scar needed to assemble the pieces of evidence.
"It can't be," he said firmly. The Zone was unpredictable, alright, but this was too much. "There was one little more than twenty-four hours ago, it can't be another emission."
As if to mock him, a lightning discharged in that moment, followed by a loud thunder. The sky slowly grew blood red, and more thunder followed after the first one.
"A blowout," Strelok laughed mirthlessly. "If we couldn't hide from a helicopter, what possibility do we have against an emission?"
"C'mon, we must keep going." Scar refused to stand here doing nothing.
"Why? Look around, there's nothing but water and grass for miles." He hated to admit it, but Strelok was right. "I always knew the Zone would eventually take me. It seems the moment has come."
His bitter words rang true for Scar as well. All stalkers knew the Zone could claim them at any moment, fickle mistress it was. But nobody ever thought today was the day it would happen.
Using his uninjured arm, Strelok grabbed Scar by the collar of the suit and dragged him closer. He bent forward willingly and met the stalker halfway in a desperate kiss. The air was charged with psy energy, and the sky bloomed in a flash of lightning. Strelok curled his arm around his neck, and Scar put his hands around the stalker's waist, pushing him as close as it was humanly possible. Scar enjoyed every second of the kiss, yet he would have liked it better if it didn't feel so much like a goodbye. When they broke apart, Strelok's pleased sigh filled him with want. He wanted more time, more of Strelok's kisses, more everything.
The emission was about to be in full force in a few seconds, when all the energy would truly 'blow out'. An idea suddenly sparked in his mind, along with a half remembered story from long ago about a guy who was knocked out cold during a fight, with an emission building up as they fought, and when he woke up some time later everyone else was dead. It was a wild guess, but it was all he had. The emission was already a death sentence, nothing he did would really worsen their situation.
"I'm sorry," He was almost sure the stalker hadn't heard him over the thundering noise, but Scar had felt the urge to apologize for what he was about to do.
Emboldened with determination, Scar walked behind him and put Strelok on a choke hold. The stalker struggled and tried to dislodge Scar's arm from around his neck. Scar tightened the hold, cutting off the blood supply to the brain. It was risky, and stupid, and it may not even work. But if he was right, and Strelok remained unconscious long enough, or the emission was a short one, then perhaps he would survive.
After a few seconds the stalker went limp, and Scar gently lowered him to the ground. As for him, Scar knew he might or might not die. Professor Kalancha thought he could survive a few blowouts, but he also said the effects of it on his nervous system were slowly killing him. Scar already survived three emissions, maybe he would survive another, but it was a gamble.
A ball of fire exploded on the horizon, a column of dark smoke rising up where the helicopter crashed. The red sky flashed in a blast of light, and the wave of energy swept everything in its wake. It had its own unique kind of terrible beauty. That was his last thought before darkness claimed him, and then Scar knew no more.
#
The return to consciousness was like waking up with a hangover. He was disoriented and confused. Why was he on the ground? He tried to sit up, but he felt dizzy by the sudden movement and had to lie down again. His blurry vision wasn't helping either. Closing his eyes, he stopped trying to make sense of his surroundings. There was a blank spot on his mind, and that was terrifying. He already dealt with amnesia once, he didn't want to lose more pieces of himself. Pain radiated from his right arm up to his shoulder, and he had the sinking feeling he had been shot. Was that why he'd been unconscious? No matter how much he tried, he didn't remember why he was lying on the mud, out in what looked to be a swamp. Yes, he wanted to go to the Great Swamp to visit Doc, but–
It all came back in a rush. He travelled with Scar to the Swamp, and last thing he knew they were hunting down the renegades that ambushed and robbed them. Until the military came along, and then they went on the run, until... Son of a bitch, Scar had tried to strangle him! Why would he do that? The blowout was going to kill them either way. Wait.
He opened his eyes and sat up. He had no idea of how he survived the emission, but he needed to know what happened to Scar. Locating him wasn't difficult, he was lying on the ground a few feet away from Strelok. He looked dead. The nosebleed staining his mouth and chin certainly gave him a ghastly appearance. A wave of cold dread swept over him. Oh God, no, please don't be dead. Strelok crawled up to him and with a shaky hand he grabbed Scar's wrist and tried to find his pulse.
All Strelok could feel was his own pulse beating madly, but maybe it was because he wasn't doing it right. He pressed his fingers against Scar's neck. He wasn't sure, but he thought he felt something. He shook him by the shoulders, gently at first and then more forcefully. The merc did not react.
"Wake up, goddamn it!" He went from aggressively shaking him to slapping his face. "Wake up, you asshole!"
Nothing seemed to work. That wasn't good. But he couldn't be dead, he couldn't. Strelok was almost sure he'd felt his pulse! Should he try CPR? Fuck, he had no idea of what to do.
#
The emission had been as unexpected as it was short. Doc observed the red sky and lightning from the safety of his house, Druzhok fitfully keeping guard by his side and growling. Mutants were not affected by psy discharges like humans were, but it made them jumpy and nervous all the same.
"It's alright, buddy." Druzhok continued growling, although he quietened a bit when Doc put his hand on the dog's head. "This will be over soon."
His thoughts veered to Strelok. The last time he fretted so much about someone was when his nephew joined the military. His fretting was founded that time, as soon they received notice of his death. That was years ago though, before the Chernobyl disaster. But it certainly was similar about how he felt about a certain stalker. He was stubborn, and rash, and Doc had patched him up too many times. He dreaded the day he showed up with an injury he couldn't fix.
The final rumble of the blowout echoed for a second, and then the unnatural red brightness died down at once, creating a momentary illusion of total darkness. This increase in the frequency of emissions was odd. The Zone used to be much more predictable, but ever since the Big Emission it had turned fickle and unstable.
Moments later, a high pitched beep broke the peace. Doc got his PDA out of the pocket and saw he had a message. It was a single word, "HELP", and the sender was Strelok. There was no other information on the message, but it did not matter. Doc tracked down Strelok's PDA to get his position. He was not very far from here, a twenty minute walk at a brisk pace, if you knew the right path. He grabbed his bag with emergency medical supplies and set off, Druzhok happily trotting after him.
He found Strelok halfway to the point where the PDA indicated he was. The stalker was dragging someone across the ground, using only his left arm hooked around his chest to do so. Doc immediately noticed the bandage in Strelok's right arm and the blood caked on the sleeve.
"What happened to you Strelok?"
"It's just a gunshot wound, but him..." Strelok was at loss of words to describe whatever happened to his companion, who Doc assumed was the infamous mercenary he heard so much about. "You have to help him Doc."
"Did he also get shot?" Apart from a nosebleed, he didn't look like he was wounded, but something must have happened to him.
"We got caught outside during the emission. I... I was unconscious for a good part of it, and when I awoke, he was like this."
Doc didn't know what to say. For starters, surviving a blowout while outside was nothing short of a miracle. Secondly, the fact Strelok said he'd lost consciousness was worrying, and it could mean some serious internal bleeding. And lastly, the mercenary did look dead. He knelt by his side and checked his pulse, prepared to tell Strelok the bad news. However, he found a pulse, weak but steady. Strelok sagged in relief at the news. Between the two of them they carried the mercenary to Doc's place. Strelok insisted on helping, despite barely being able to move his right arm without grimacing in pain.
Back in his shack, Doc settled the mercenary on one of the beds, unsure of what else he could do for him besides waiting and praying. Doc had no idea of how one should treat someone who had been exposed to a massive wave of psy energy. So he focused on healing what he could, namely Strelok's gunshot wound. He unwrapped the bandages and carefully removed the haemostatic sponge, in order to examine the wound.
It wasn't as bad as he feared, no signs of extreme damage or internal haemorrhaging. It was a clean wound, and he hoped there were no bullet fragments inside. That was impossible to know without an x-ray, of course. The bone didn't seem to be affected at all, thank goodness. Although once more, to be absolutely sure he would need an x-ray. Since that wasn't possible, Doc just cleansed the wound as best as possible and bandaged it again.
As he always did, Doc layered a couple of Soul shards between the bandages. The original artifact broke years ago, but the remaining shards still retained some of the original artifact's healing properties. It was a good trick. Wounds healed quicker, and the radiation they emitted was minimal, nothing a good swig of vodka couldn't cure. Speaking of which, he served a shot of the liquor to Strelok and another for himself. It was also good to calm the nerves.
If only treating the mercenary was that easy. Just to appease Strelok, he put a handful of Soul shards on a small pouch around the mercenary's neck; although he doubted the efficiency of such measure. It took some herculean effort, but in the end he managed to convince Strelok to go to sleep. The stalker was exhausted and it showed, keeping vigil over the mercenary would not help any of them.
"Call me when he wakes up." Strelok requested before leaving.
Doc didn't have the heart to tell him it was more of an 'if' than a 'when'. And even if he did wake up, he might end a brainless shuffler. But he just agreed with Strelok and let him had a night of much needed sleep. He was also going to get some shut eye, checking on his patient could wait until morning. After all, all they could do was waiting.
#
He awoke to a stranger looming over him, in an unknown place. The stranger was an old man, who had been checking his pulse until he noticed Scar was awake. Unsure of what the fuck happened to him, Scar quickly surveyed his surroundings. The room wasn't a total ruin, so this was probably the old man's hideout. On one hand, it meant he was somewhere safe, at least for now. On the other hand, the lack of a certain stalker made him fear the worse. He sat up on the edge of the bed, immediately regretting the decision.
"There was a man with me, where is he?" The man regarded him with a strange expression. Scar held his gaze like it was a contest he intended to win.
"Strelok is still sleeping." Relief flooded him. His harebrained idea had worked, thank God. Then Scar realised the stranger had referred to Strelok by name.
"You're Strelok's friend, yes?" It was the old man's turn to be surprised.
"Yes, I am. And I know who you are." An awkward silence followed the old man's admission. He looked at him like a judge who was about to pass sentence. Scar endured the scrutiny, unflinching.
"I'll be honest, I don't like you. However, since for some strange reason Strelok seems to be fond of you, I'll try to be civil. But listen up young man, if you ever harm Strelok," the again was loudly implied and both of them knew it, "I'll feed you to my pet pseudo-dog. Are we clear?"
Not very friendly, but he supposed his mistrust was understandable, given Scar's involvement with past events. So to mollify him, Scar gave a single nod of acquiescence. As if to prove the threat wasn't an empty one, a huge pseudo-dog strode into the room. Holy shit, seeing one of those things up close was unnerving. The beast started growling at him, and he had to tamp down on the impulse to scramble back and search for his weapons. Point taken, the old man wasn't kidding. The beast calmed down upon receiving an affectionate pat on the head from his owner. As intimidation techniques went, Scar had to admit this was one of the best. The solemnity of the moment was dissolved when Strelok entered the room.
"I heard voices Doc." He looked like he'd just woken up, bleary eyed and yawning.
The effect Strelok's presence had on him was immediate. Scar couldn't help it, he dropped his guarded expression and looked at the stalker with a soft smile. God, it was good to see him alive and well. In turn, Strelok's face bloomed with joy when he saw him. Then it was quickly replaced by rage.
"I'm going to murder you." He approached him like a storm of fury. "You tried to strangle me! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Ah, he'd be lying if he said he didn't expect something like this. He knew his decision had been somewhat sketchy, to say the least, but he'd been panicking and at the moment it sounded good. Besides, it worked!
"You're alive, aren't you?" Scar's justification did nothing to calm Strelok. Yeah, maybe he should have worded it better, but it was difficult to think clearly when he had just woken up.
The mercenary's declaration had left Strelok momentarily speechless. "You can be such asshole, you know that?"
"You complain now, but you looked pretty pleased when –"
"Shut up before I decide to kill you after all."
"I knew you would be cross with me," Scar admitted under the stalker's angry glare. "You were about to die and I wasn't sure I would survive either. I panicked and tried to think of a way to save you. It didn't sound as bad in the moment..."
"That's..." He combed his fingers through his short hair and sat on the edge of the bed. "That's really fucked up."
Doc coughed, gathering their attention. Scar had almost forgotten the old man was still there, watching their exchange and judging Scar's every word. At least he looked supremely uncomfortable, Scar noticed with petty satisfaction.
"I'll leave you alone to sort this out." Doc awkwardly excused himself out of the room.
With the old man gone, the pseudo-dog left as well. That was a relief, Scar had the impression the beast didn't like him much, but unlike its owner, the beast wasn't trying to be minimally civil. Good lord, what kind of crazy nutter keeps a pseudo-dog as a pet? Strelok's tired sigh brought him back to the present moment.
"Do all your plans to save people include a strangling attempt?"
"I admit that perhaps it wasn't the best idea, but you survived the blowout and that's all that matters. I couldn't stand there and do nothing while you died."
Maybe this time he had managed to explain himself a little better. Strelok regarded him with an expression Scar couldn't completely decipher. At least his fury was slowly melting away. Or so he hoped. Slowly, giving him ample time to move away if he wanted, Scar drew his hand near to Strelok's and grabbed it in a tenuous hold. Much to his surprise, the stalker welcomed the gesture. He even squeezed his hand. Scar squeezed back.
"If you ever again do something remotely similar, I'll kill you for real."
"I guess it's fair." He would have said that in such scenario there would be a waiting line to kill him, and his friend Doc was at the front of it, but it didn't seem appropriate. Instead, he swiped his thumb over Strelok's knuckles in a fleeting caress. "Does that mean you intend to continue travelling with me?"
Silence fell upon them as Strelok thought about it. Scar barely dared to breathe, waiting for his reply.
"I suppose, if you're going in the same direction as me, it wouldn't hurt to have company." His nonchalant way of talking was belied by the fact he was still holding Scar's hand.
"And in which direction would you be going?"
"Out of the swamp." Scar chuckled at his answer.
"Yeah, alright, I think we're going in the same direction."
First he would have to go to collect the data from Clear Sky, but that shouldn't take long, and meanwhile Strelok would have time to say goodbye to his friend. Afterwards, his path surely was leading him out of the Great Swamp. And once out of the swamp, all the way to Yanov to deliver the data to Sakharov's old assistant.
"Tell me, how do you feel about a trip to the north? I've heard Yanov is a very peaceful place." Judging by Strelok's delightful chuckle, the stalker's answer would not disappoint him.
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