"Why would they have this?" Blackjack was asking, half to himself.
"To use it?" Ogre ventured.
"They'd have broken it down in smaller packs if they planned on using it," Nikolay answered. "I think they had it wrapped up like that for a trade."
"And who would they be dealing with..." Mystery was thinking. He knew that there were passages and corridors underneath them, crammed with rusting machinery, anomalies and other dangers, but still, he felt as if there was something else down here that was important to him in particular. And his spotty memory still did not stretch that far.
"Let's take it anyway. We can trade it ourselves," Sataida proposed.
"But what if we're caught with it?" Screws objected.
"Hellooo? There's no cops here, it's the Zone, remember?" She retorted mockingly.
"Yeah, let's see how you pitch that argument to a Duty patrol," he shot back with an edge. He had gotten a hold of himself and decided that he had been weak for too long. Plus, if he indeed wanted to get her –and the pangs on his chest whenever he turned towards her were strong signals in that regard–, acting meek was not going to help.
"We're not on Duty territory," Blackjack interceded. "Yet. But still, it may be useful as a bargaining chip of sorts. Maybe we can use to bribe our way out of trouble sometime."
"I concur." Hunter's agreement was flat and dry. Ogre nodded and stowed it on his own backpack carefully.
"What would it be worth here?" The giant pondered.
"Not much, probably... Even if they're quite widespread here, Jellyfishes can't be grown anywhere. Drugs can," Maxim reasoned.
"Got a point, there."
Hunter searched the unconscious bandit thoroughly. He found the usual assortment of ammo, food, cheap cigarettes, a smartphone with a set of headphones, and a Flash artifact. "Here," he said to Ogre, "have it for the moment. You have the heaviest load."
The giant shrugged and smirked. "Not going to argue, there."
The mobile phone he handed over to Sataida, who skillfully navigated it. "There's a voice log of sorts here... no, wait. There are several. It's going to take some time..."
"Then get on with it, girl." Ogre gave her an affectionate smack with one of his massive hands. "What about him? We leave him there?"
"We're not going to drag him across the whole place, are we?" Mystery asked rhetorically.
This time, Blackjack and Mystery took point, Hunter closely behind them; Sataida and Screws were in the middle, while Ogre closed the march. They all wore their masks and protective gear, and it was a good thing they did that because the fumes only got worse as they slowly climbed down the creaking spiral staircase.
And still, when the walls around the staircase opened into a wide corridor crammed everywhere with churning greenish clouds, the distant echoes of high-pitched shrieks could be heard.
"Rodents," Blackjack whispered. "Stay sharp."
No one replied. There was no need. They all clutched their weapons with tense hands, with the usual exception of Hunter, who held a throwing knife on each hand almost carelessly.
It was obvious that the anomaly-plagued corridor was too narrow for people to walk side by side, so Mystery took point, followed by Hunter and Blackjack. The amnesiac stalker found it was easier for him to navigate these places not by thinking, but merely by reacting instead; habits he did not know he had made him look around some corners but not around some others, ignoring some places and taking extra precautions near others, as if he already knew where to expect danger. Behind him, Hunter noticed his increasing confidence and followed closely.
Upon reaching an archway leading to another room, Mystery stopped and raised a bunched fist. Everyone stopped in turn. He listened and watched, again out of long-dormant habit, but nothing perturbed their tense wait other than the muffled screeches of the rodents somewhere deep inside the catacombs and the bubbling of the anomalies. When he was satisfied, he set on again; this room was also chock-full with fuming greenish clouds, and whatever machinery that once had been there was now reduced to formless piles of liquid slag. Only the anomalies lit the hall, and the place was a chaotic dance of shadows and greenish lights as bubbles popped and hissed.
Then again, he rose a hand, and everyone stopped to hear the staccato of automatic fire, followed by high-pitched squeals. There was people down there, and it was not unexpected. Rats everywhere scuttled around for refuge.
Blackjack signaled Mystery to move on, that he kept him covered. Hunter was now wielding the decrepit assault rifle they had taken from the bandit, a battered AK-74, and was also looking down the hall through its sights.
Something roared somewhere down the tunnels, and they all readied themselves for another bloodsucker, but what darted into the room via a doorway on the other end, running in desperation, was a masked soldier, who paled upon seeing the stalkers ready to shoot. Then the roar repeated itself, louder than before. Mystery spotted the blur behind him and raised his AKM: "GET DOWN!"
The soldier immediately got to the ground. Hunter got off the first shot, but it was irrelevant: the mutant was literally chewed down to mincemeat by the barrage of five assault rifles.
"Come, get closer, we aren't going to shoot you," Maxim invited. The serviceman did not need to be asked twice; quickly he stood up and approached. "You're hurt?"
"God, no! Thank you a lot, you've just saved my sorry ass... but hey, you know you're not going to get a warm welcome down these halls, do you?" The voice was soft, still unbroken by age; probably the soldier was very young.
Mystery quickly warmed up to him. "Well, we're kind of experts in, say, shotgun diplomacy," he stated with a smirk.
"That won't save you. The things around here aren't about listening, if you get my meaning."
"Thanks for the heads-up," Ogre said. "But..." They all looked at each other. Telling the soldier what they were looking for was out of the question.
"You may find some, er, artifacts down here, maybe, but it's dangerous as hell," the soldier warned. "I, for one, don't want to spend another minute down here. I'm outta here."
"You're deserting?" Sataida asked in disbelief.
The soldier sought the female voice and stared at her apoplectically. "What? A girl, here? Are you insane? You know what they do to girls here?" Sataida said nothing, but her eyes flashed fiercely behind her gas mask in defiance.
"We've been trying to convince her of that... but well, she's headstrong." Ogre shook his head.
"I wouldn't bring her into the base. The bunch up there are all criminals in disguise."
"We weren't thinking of parading her around," Screws joked, glancing at her. His heart swelled when he saw her smile beneath her mask. "But why are you deserting?"
The soldier drooped his shoulders. "I've been posted down here every day since I arrived. Everyone who gets stuck with guard duty here kicks the bucket sooner or later, there are a lot of uncharted rooms and passages and there's dangerous things all around. And I've outlasted everyone else so far, twice over at that. I guess I've pushed my luck long enough." He snorted hatefully. "I've overheard there's bets being placed on who lasts longer, or something. Someone in command would cash in big time if some mutant got me." He glanced quickly over them all. "Or if some stalker did... So, you see..."
Mystery expressed his sympathy. "Some fellows you got, huh."
Blackjack put their minds back into their task: "How many soldiers are up there?"
"Up in the base? Say, around forty or fifty men around." The soldier watched them all carefully. "What, you planning to storm the base?"
"Is there a way?"
"Well, there's a hatch on the other side of these tunnels that leads straight into a backyard, but it's kept guarded; that's how we get down here. But they'll hear you coming; there are sentries posted everywhere. And if push comes to shove they can always radio in for helicopters."
Ogre swore under his breath. "This just keeps getting better and better." He turned hopelessly to Blackjack.
"Oh, stop worrying on my account!" Sataida hissed.
"If they're the gangsters in disguise you say they are, you think there'd be someone interested in this?" Maxim signaled to the giant, who produced the package from his backpack.
The soldier shook his head. "No, not that I know of. I mean, maybe, it wouldn't come as a surprise. I know there's someone smuggling in liquor, but how do they do it, hell, I don't know." He again stared at them each, one by one. "Are you really, really sure you want to go in there? I mean, there's nothing of value there, other than a poorly stocked armory... but maybe you know something I don't," he added.
"If we told you, we'd have to kill you." Everyone smirked at Screws' remark; it seemed straight out of an espionage novel.
"Yeah, figured as much." Then the soldier's face lit up. "Hey, maybe I can help you after all. I mean, you are going to sneak in, right?" Nobody replied openly. "I guessed as much. Listen up, after nightfall the patrols pull back and everyone goes to the barracks to sleep or play dice or get drunk, save a token few who get posted as tower guard or gate sentries. At least one of the command staff, though, remains on the second floor of the main building, every night."
Ogre allowed himself a cautious smile. "What kind of army discipline is that?"
"None, why do you think I'm leaving?" The soldier asked rhetorically. "Someone wants to turn me into a pile of cash, and because they can't they keep bullying me. They hate to lose their bets against me every night. That's some exemplary... er... esprit de corps, was it?" His French was blatantly mispronounced and heavily accented, but it was clear enough. And it distilled bitterness.
Blackjack nodded, in part to conceal both the relief and the indignation that had surged within him. "It's the best you can do, to get out of here, then. When does the next guard shift start?"
"Around 0300 hours, give or take. As of late my reliefs have been arriving well past 4 AM." The youth did not need to clarify why.
Hunter, who for the most part had kept a watchful eye out for mutants and other soldiers, spoke up dryly. "We are most grateful for your help. Now, if you will only join us until we are done, we will set you up properly to make a living as a stalker. It's either that, or being tied up to some pipe. Your choice."
Most of the group, Mystery and Ogre in particular, were surprised and somewhat disappointed at the icy stalker's treatment of their informer, but it made sense. As easily as he had told about his fellows, the soldier could have a pang of guilt and report their presence, which would of course ruin everything. The serviceman was surprised and angry for a moment, and was about to rudely tell Hunter where he could stick it, but a quick glance at the stalker's readiness changed his mind. He wet his slips, both anger and understanding written in his eyes, "Well, I see your point. I'm coming with you. It beats being tied up to a pipe, I guess."
Hunter smirked coolly. "Good choice. Here, come with me. We have your payment right here. Blackjack, if you will please...?"
"Of course." Maxim unslung his backpack and produced the spare black armor suit he had taken from the Monolith dead, back at the rookie village. "Here, put this on." Silently he complimented the quick thinking of his comrade; if he was dressed like him, it would make it much harder for the soldier to switch sides if their plan – if they had a plan at all – soured up. "You can have my spare rifle until you get one yourself." That said, he handed him his own SCAR and a few clips, which the now former soldier took unconvincingly. Blackjack was about to ask why he did not have a rifle, but he guessed the bloodsucker he had escaped from had something to do with it. "What is your name, if I may ask?"
"Er... it's Boris." The transition from soldier to deserter to stalker was going much faster than he had anticipated or was comfortable with, and it showed.
"You will need an alias. Everyone has one here. That one is Hunter; I'm Blackjack. They are Ogre, Mystery, Sataida and Screws." He pointed at each of them, who saluted him in turn.
"Alright, that's settled then," Hunter said with finality. "Boris, you stay with Ogre. And keep your eyes sharp."
They all set on again, Mystery on point, Blackjack and Hunter slightly behind him. Sataida and Screws followed them, then Boris and Ogre. The giant gave him a friendly nudge. "Don't you worry," he whispered. "He may seem mean, but if you get on his good side he's never letting you down."
"Yeah, well..." Boris sighed. "It's that..."
"Quiet," was Mystery's reprimand. "You can cuddle later. I don't want any of his dear mates to hear us."
They passed by the dead bloodsucker, whose bleeding carcass had attracted over a dozen rats and gigantic cockroaches that fought over the remains. They turned left, and found themselves in another barely lit corridor that ran to their left and right. The ghastly green light given by the many chemical anomalies was distorted by the shimmer of very hot air, whichever way they looked.
Mystery gulped. "Burners."
"Fantastic." Blackjack turned to Boris. "I take that you know a way?" He was about to say that he had just ran across that gauntlet to escape the bloodsucker, but the gleam in his eye was enough.
The young soldier nodded. Whether he noticed Maxim's unspoken mind or not, he did not say. "Yeah. Which way?" Maxim signaled left with his rifle. "Follow me, then... Step exactly where I step and you will be fine. Don't turn on your lamps."
It seemed that his story was true, because with complete confidence he worked their way through the stifling hot maze, his steps never faltering; there he stepped slightly to his left, and there again he turned right, and here he walked straight on, almost brushing the deadly green fumes in doing so.
"You must have had quite some time on your hands, to have mapped them so thoroughly," Mystery whispered, in part to compliment him, in part to conceal his growing uneasiness. He remembered vividly these corridors now, and was certain that he had walked them well over a hundred times, but the burner anomalies were new. And he knew that there was an almost equal corridor a few meters to their right, connected to this one via passageways and rooms.
Boris swelled with pride. "You bet. I've killed more mutants by using anomalies than by shooting at them. You know, bloodsuckers are almost insensitive to these acid greenish things, but fire kills them just the same."
"Good to know," Blackjack noted, as discreetly.
"Do these anomalies shift their positions?" Mystery inquired in a whisper.
"All the time, blowout or not."
The corridor reached its end; there, a narrower passage led to a barely visible stairway, and a doorway to their right led into a darkened room with another doorway directly opposite. The amnesiac stalker turned right, leading them with ever more confidence as the veils on his memory crumbled away, and found himself in the mirror corridor he expected. His steps grew faster, now certain that he was near somewhere important, and stopped by a hole in the wall to their left, waist-high; it was wide enough for a man to crawl in it. A ladder was dimly visible on the other end.
"What is it, Mystery?"
He did not answer. Instead, he got rid of his backpack and was about to climb into the hole, but Hunter overrode him. The silent stalker crawled along the duct, reached the ladder, and started to climb cautiously, his senses primed...
Halfway he stopped, smelling fresh air coming from above. That brief stop saved him: his hand hovered in midair almost over a tripwire. Very carefully, almost delicately, his left index finger followed the copper wire to an almost invisible concussive charge, expertly placed behind one of the ladder's arms. For an instant, Hunter considered disarming it, but he needed to turn on his headlamp and that would inevitably warn whomever was on the other side of the ladder, waiting in ambush. Slowly he climbed down.
"We can't go that way," he whispered. "The ladder is booby-trapped. And someone is there." He turned to Mystery. His eyes bore into him. "Why did you want to go up there?"
The amnesiac stalker cursed. Now everyone was looking at him. "Well... I... see..." he stumbled. He closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes to stare back at Hunter: "I know that place. It's a hideout. Some friends use it."
"Those 'friends' are the Monolith?" Blackjack asked, his face blank, but his voice a warning.
"Hell, no! The damn maniacs hunted us. They..." his words trailed off. "...They killed a friend of mine. Fang, he was called. A sniper shot... him... through the collar of his exo..." He seemed to recall something: "Remember when Screws... showed ...?" He tried not to tip off Ogre, Sataida and Boris about the artifact.
Maxim nodded. "What's it?" He said brusquely.
"I had said something about a Dragunov and a friend, yes? It was him who got killed..." More faces flashed through his mind. "There were others too... Guide, Ghost, Doc-"
Ogre interrupted him: "Guide? THE Guide?"
"Who's Guide?" Boris asked in puzzlement.
Mystery did not reply. He was paralyzed, struggling with his thoughts and emotions and his haltingly recovering memory. Blackjack stared at him thoughtfully. He had known him briefly, and while he had always had his misgivings about the man's memory loss, it seemed real. But if everything had been just an elaborate act to draw them into an ambush, it had been an impeccable one. Everything it takes to get us now is armed men appearing from both sides of this corridor, and we're toast.
"And some of these friends of yours are up there now."
You got that one right, thought Guide, overhearing everything. Finally, Strelok was down there. And not alone, it seemed.
"...and what do you want to do?" He heard that unknown voice ask. He looked into Ghost's eyes. Then, into Farsight's.
A choice had to be made. Kill Strelok, or talk to him. Strelok had to be stopped, the youth and the controller had said back at the Valley, but stopped from doing what? Destroying C-Consciousness? And how?
A stone clanged loudly over the metallic duct. Everyone was startled.
Hunter reached for the stone, which was wrapped in some kind of paper with something scribbled over it. He removed the paper and read what was written on it...
"Keep your eyes open. Someone will be coming down to disarm the trap."
The next few minutes were insufferably uncomfortable. Hunter had his senses primed on the scuffling and shuffling that was taking place somewhere in the duct before him, while the rest of them watched out for more mutants or soldiers. Blackjack consulted his own smartphone for time: 23:17. He found himself sweating beneath his mask, and hating himself for being led into such a dangerous situation, for everything about this unexpected rendezvous screamed: ambush.
Then someone spoke, the voice a muffled echo distorted by the duct walls: "...your amnesiac friend can come up on his own, if he wants."
All eyes were fixated upon Mystery. The man slowly picked up his backpack and AKM, and crawled into the duct. With quivering hands, he climbed up the ladder. A gloved hand helped him out of the duct.
There were five people in the room. Two of them he did not recognize; one of them was a stocky man built like a rock who looked like a foreigner, given the non-Slavic features of his face, and a young boy, who hardly looked older than sixteen, that stared at him as if reading him. He recognized the sharp, gaunt face of Ghost, who had helped him into the small utility room, and that of Guide, balding, weathered, the first stalker to ever breach into the Zone, and... someone wearing Fang's exoskeleton...
Slowly, the man on the exoskeleton took off his helmet. Mystery blanched and stared in disbelief. That was the young soldier he had met not an hour ago. That could not be. Shakily he raised a finger and pointed at him: "You... you..."
Guide stepped forward. "Welcome, Strelok."
WHAT?! Did he just call me...?