"You're serious?" a man, early thirties, crossed his arms, his hands haphazardly resting on each other, looking at a woman, about late twenties, almost her thirties, as she stood near the prepping table in their makeshift home, filling her bag with the necessities needed for the approaching tour.
A small knife, a handgun with a full clip, a set of matches, a sack of large marbles, a sack of lug nuts tied to long strands of torn cloth, a medical kit, the compass, and an old locket.
The woman didn't say much, her mind wondering elsewhere, until the man lightly touched her shoulder, and she turned her head towards him while gently pushing the rest of her things into the backpack, before zipping it closed.
"It'll only take a day, Peter, just like the others," the woman tells him as she hoisted the backpack around her arms, securing it, as she stood in front of the man, a disapproving look in his silver eye, the milky blue in the other barely glistened.
Shaking his head, his short blond hair stiffly moving, he responds with, "You know how I feel about you doing these tours with those idiots. It's a miracle they gotten this far in life!"
Ever since his beloved followed suit with the others in the area in illegally hosting tours in the quarantined zone after his injuries forced him to quit his job as a welder five years ago, he never slept well until she returned home from a tour, and only then can he sleep like a rock, his arms wrapped around her.
Multiple times he begged her to quit, that while they weren't fortunate like others, at least they had each other, but she couldn't sit idly, something bothered her and it's the reason she went into the business.
Even if it's illegal for a reason, with mandatory prison sentencing upon capture, and everything that came with getting caught near the quarantined zone that's been patrolled regularly for almost forty years since the catastrophe befell the area long ago.
However, his beloved pointed out that it's worth doing because of how much money she earned from hosting the illegal tours, her prowess afforded her the right to charge more than others in the work, enough money that Peter didn't need to work so hard to keep a house over their heads, and worry about them freezing in the harsh winters.
Since she started, they lived comfortably, not extravagant by any means, but they're able to keep themselves warm, they have a stocked fridge, and Peter didn't have to stress, except, he pointed out, he didn't have to stress about putting food on the table.
He's stressing about her coming home from her tours in one piece.
"It's not worth your life, my little angel," Peter protested his beloved risking her life for these illegal tours, "maybe you have no trouble going through there, now, but that zone, I worry it'll swallow you whole!"
Pulling on her dusty gloves, the woman sees the solemn look in Peter's eyes before she lowered her hands to her side before telling him, "I know what I am doing. I've always been careful. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have done it in the first place."
It didn't satiate Peter's concerns and he stopped his beloved before saying to her, "Niki, I know why you're doing this, but do you really think you're going to find anything this time around, how many times have you been searching?"
Faced with the question as she stood in front of him, Nikita pondered before she answered, "I have to try, Peter."
Greedily, Peter wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close, as he tells her that after this, he doesn't want her doing this again.
This time, he meant it.
No amount of pleading, begging, talking him into it's going to work anymore.
A miracle Nikita hadn't been arrested by the security in her five years, a miracle she even comes home in one piece, but now, Peter's had enough.
It's not worth risking her life over, even if the idiot tourists paid her lavishly for her tours, and while it'll put a crimp in their life for a while, Peter's optimistic they'll work it through, like they've always done.
He'll find another job; he's got the years under his belt that he's qualified enough to take a different job than his former.
It won't be much compared to his old job as a welder, but it's better than his beloved risking her life every few months when some idiot tourist comes through their sleepy village looking for a thrill in the zone.
"I mean it. After this, I don't want you going back there, I don't care how much money they offer. It's only a matter of time…" Peter's voice dropped towards the end as he felt his emotions welling within him as he felt his hands tightening their grip on Nikita.
The stories he heard about the zone since he was a small boy, they never left him even as an adult, of various incidents and strange occurrence since the zone came into existence decades ago.
Even the strongest men went missing in the zone, taken from this world by the unknown forces that were born when the incident happened so long ago.
Monsters, demons, Peter heard them all, he might've not gone into the zone, himself, but he believed the stories from the people who came from it.
Enough people gone missing, the ones that came back, came back wrong, different than they left, and some worse than others.
With rumours of unusual phenomena that occurs in the zone, the last thing Peter wanted was his beloved encountering one of them.
Seeing the fear in his eyes, put Nikita in a peculiar position, before she relented, promising him, that this tour would be her last, and that she'll figure out another way to earn money, that didn't require her guiding tourists through the zone.
Not the one to lie, Nikita gave her word, and it relieved Peter, as he lessened his grip on her.
"I know how much it means to you, my little angel, but it's been five years, now. If there was anything, you would've found it," Peter sharply exhales as he looked into his beloved's blue eyes, embracing her one last time with a kiss, before she went towards the door.
Tugging on her heavy drab coat, Nikita bid Peter farewell, while he haphazardly crossed his arms, watching her as she left their little home in the village.
The latest tourist wanting a trip into the zone's a woman, preferred to call her 'V' rather her actual name, it's good practice not knowing much about the tourist, in case they're ever stopped by security.
The usual rates tourists paid estimated around 90,000 rubles a head, but this tourist insisted on paying extra.
Nearly 450,000 rubles, paying half upfront to prove that she was serious and after the conclusion of her tour, she'll pay Nikita the rest of the money.
Hearing a woman willing to pay that much for a tour would've normally made any person like Nikita treat her with caution, fear that she's a plant by the security forces, but after meeting V, Nikita believed she was genuine.
Why a woman such as herself wanted a tour in the zone, any number of reasons, but Nikita couldn't decline the money, it would help them plenty.
In accordance to the unwritten rules, Nikita keeps her tourists from getting into trouble, making them respect the zone, and her penchant for vengeance when crossed.
Tourists have the right to conclude their tours early, but they cannot treat the zone unjustly.
All people who frequent the zone treat it with implicit respect, ever since the nuclear accident gave it an unusual life, so many years ago.
Nikita wasn't any different, she treated tours as they're going to a house, respecting the zone's silent wishes, and not making a mess of things.
Since her introduction as an illegal tour guide, Nikita felt an instant connection with the zone, seemingly understanding the silent wishes it held.
When the zone compels her, she listens.
Even if a tourist wants to go somewhere, if the zone doesn't will it, Nikita obeys, as incidents arises plenty when tourists go against their host's wishes.
Keeping a firm hand on her tourists, going far as vetting them even before agreeing to host them, Nikita heard stories about the idiots, as her husband calls them, who get into trouble.
Some simple as going where they shouldn't and getting a scare of a lifetime to various degrees of bodily harm or even death.
One of the driving reasons why authorities arrest and imprison anyone caught in the zone, but as though they tried, people slip in and out, undetected.
Those who live near the zone, have no other options for work, their villages losing chunks of people after the incident occurred, the jobs went with them, and turning to illegally going into the zone's their only way of surviving, with some unable to simply move elsewhere.
Caught in a hard place, Nikita does what she can for her and her husband, and though it isn't ideal, it's better than what some chose to do when there's nothing left.
Having turned spring, there's subtle warmth in the air, though sharp coldness lingered, especially as people venture close to the zone, it's known that snow will fall in the zone while it's summer outside the parameter, even vice versa, with it snowing outside the parameter, and a summer day inside the zone.
Feeling the air, Nikita thinks that the weather in the zone's decent for them.
Walking through the unkempt road, her shaggy dark hair stiffly moved as the beanie kept it in place, while Nikita went to the one place everyone goes, a bar.
The floors rotted, some having holes, the walls peeled, broken furniture, it was their hub, where people like her meet their marks, and where they meet each other to tell of stories and warning when there's a patrol.
Entering through the creaking door, the smell of expired cigarettes and liquor wafted through the air, Nikita glimpsed around, seeing people at the tables, drinking.
It's a custom to drink before going out on tours into the zone, a last rite some say, in case they don't come back, but Nikita never liked to drink before tours.
Familiar faces mixed in with unfamiliar faces, Nikita recognized the few as she went through the bar, mindful of the holes and sagging floor as, going up to the counter, and taking her spot.
Checking her wristwatch, Nikita waited for V, having told her to meet here, then after that, they'll head their way into the zone.
Silently, Nikita waited for V, overhearing the familiar faces negotiating with their marks, trying to get more than the standard fee.
"If only it were more than one, you'd be rolling in money!" Nikita hears the owner of the bar, a retired host, mused as he heard the take for this tour, an unusual amount of money from only one tourist.
He'd spent his early years doing similar tours in the zone, but ended up retiring due to receiving an injury from one of the many things lingering in the zone.
Hell's jelly, witch's jelly, whatever you wanted to call it, it's a substance that indiscriminately consumes anyone or anything unfortunate in stepping in it.
When he was younger, it was an iridescent blue, but as years gone, the substance changed colours, becoming indistinguishable to puddles of water.
The day he accidentally stepped into it's when it became translucent, like water.
A miracle he even survived when he did, thankfully the tourist that contracted him for the tour was a medical doctor wanting to study the zone, for whatever the reason, managed to save his life with quick thinking, at the expense of his leg from the knee down, forcing him to retire from his profession, taking the money he made, pouring it into a bar where his fellows can linger among their own.
Outfitted with a prosthetic leg, Hugo hobbled as he grabbed a glass from behind the counter, filling it with cut ice, pouring in a drink, before sitting it in front of Nikita.
"I'm not drinking," Nikita tells him that she's ignoring the custom for the moment, but Hugo insisted that she at least have a drink.
Consider it a triumph that she survived this job for five years, intact, in more ways than one.
"It will be my last," Nikita informed Hugo that after this, she's leaving the profession at the behest of her husband.
Slowly nodding, his hair receding from age barely moving, Hugo mused that's not unusual in their work, eventually their loved ones nix their future tours, out of fear or worry.
He found that transitioning back to civilian hood's the most difficult tour than any ever took, everything dulled and withered when he stopped touring.
The excitement gone from his life, he couldn't handle it, so he took to working in his bar, as it's the only time he can go back to when he was younger.
"However, I am a mere man who sought my fortunes, you are a woman seeking answers," Hugo pointed at Nikita before reaching down, grabbing himself a glass with ice, pouring himself a drink, and encouraged a toast with Nikita, on her past achievements and glory.
Relenting, Nikita toasted with him, before drinking the vodka that Hugo poured.
Resting the emptied glass on the counter, Nikita hears Hugo say, "It is for your own good, the zone, she gives, but when she takes, she takes."
He personified the zone, too, giving it feminine qualities, like Nikita, and knows the unpredictable nature.
When she feels like it, she will take, and she takes with impunity, because when visitors come to her, they're under her rules until she allows them to leave, if alive at all.
Seeing the unsure look in Nikita's blue eyes, Hugo assures her that she'll find work elsewhere, but she admitted she had other concerns.
"You've been searching since she left, my little wing, if she went to the zone, then the zone has her, and she will not let her go," Hugo warns that if she didn't her answers then, Nikita wasn't going to find them, now, and if the zone has them, she's at her mercy.
As the nature of the zone.
Slowly nodding, Nikita frowns as she sat quietly in her spot, while Hugo tended to the others, and she waited until a woman entered the bar, causing heads to turn.
She didn't look like an atypical person from the region, dressed differently, like a true tourist, in her leopard spotted skirt and high boots, with the fine makeup, some would say she's in her mid-twenties.
Her straight short blond hair swayed back and forth as she walked towards the counter, she knew Nikita by sight, and she sat beside the woman.
"Couldn't pick somewhere better?" V bemoaned the choice in meeting spot, but Nikita says they can't meet elsewhere, this is the only spot in the village they're able to deal with their business without issue.
"You wanted to go to the zone, this is the place," Nikita tells her as she sat with her arms crossed on the counter.
Shrugging her mink furred shoulders, V responded with a dry, "At least repaint the walls!"
Going over the rules, ensuring that V knows them well, Nikita tells her that the custom for going on tours involved drinking.
Some called it a last rite, in case they don't come back.
"But you'll bring me back, right?" V questioned this and Nikita warned that she never makes promises on tours.
The zone gives, but when she feels like it, she'll take.
It's a matter of who or what.
"Pedantic, isn't she?" V played into the superstitions in the area and Nikita states that it's the truth, the zone does what it pleases, they're only guests, and when the zone no longer wishes their presence, she will expel them.
Dead, or alive.
A leg over the other as she sat on the stool, V asks about the zone, and Nikita answers her questions while Hugo made glasses of drinks for V.
"Is it true?" V asks Nikita.
Shrugging, Nikita says, "It is her world, now. Anything can and has happened in it."
Crossing her arms over her exposed knee, V leaned in, asking another question, "Have you seen it?"
Shaking her head, Nikita says that she follows the zone's rules, if it exists, she doesn't know, as the zone doesn't see it fit to show her.
"Could it exist?" V asks Nikita's opinions on the matter and the average height woman uncrossed her arms as she shifted in her spot while thinking about it.
Briefly, she closed her eyes, when she opened them again, Nikita says, "If it does, then it is her will that reveals it to us."
Her short hair flowing like the river as she tilted her head to the side, V inquired, "If it does, could you find it?"
Pondering this, Nikita verbatim stated, "If it does, then it is her will that reveals it to us."
Hugo heard the conversation coming back to the counter, questioning them, and V asks if he heard the stories.
"Sure, I knew a man who found it," Hugo stated that he knew someone who found what intrigued V.
Curious, V asks him about the man, but Hugo says that it was a long time ago, and the man who found it, died shortly after.
"What happened?" V raised her fine eyebrow as Hugo poured another drink for her.
Blinking as he screwed the cap onto the glass bottle, Hugo says, "He killed himself over it. Poor bastard."
Checking the time, Nikita ended the conversation early, saying that it's time, asking if V has everything, and she nodded.
Briefly, Hugo stops them, looking towards Nikita, and telling her, "See you in time, sister-stalker."
Paying for her drinks, V followed Nikita out of the bar, and the women made their way through the village, onto narrow paths that ended abruptly, but hidden paths adjacent to them, carefully avoiding the patrols.
Some chose to use vehicles getting into the zone, but Nikita preferred walking, patrols are geared towards vehicles, anyhow, and she knows the back ways better than most.
A couple of times, they're stopped by the presence of a passing patrol, hiding in spots, continuing until they're close to the fence.
"Remember, when I say stop, you stop," Nikita went over the rules once more with V.
The zone may look no different than the village, but never forget that it's changed, and will never return to the normalcy of then.
Visibly annoyed with Nikita hammering the rules, V assured her that she'll follow them, she'd like to come back in one piece.
"If she lets you," Nikita warns.
The zone may give, but she takes.
They reached the high fencing that wrapped around the entire zone, preventing most from sneaking in, and Nikita finds the broken part of the fencing, allowing them inside.
The weeds have overgrown the entire section, acting as a buffer, but they're not in the zone, not just yet, Nikita knows when they're in the zone, the moment they're past the creek that streaks across the area, towards the thin line of grass.
One half looks fine, the rest, dreary and unkempt.
The one half that looked fine's the one people know to stay away from.
"How long do you think it'll be like this?" V asks Nikita how long she thinks the phenomenas will last.
It's been like this for almost forty years, surely, it'll have to end, someday, right?
"Maybe it'll end when the last of the radioactive isotope decays, who's to know?" Nikita shrugged as she led V through the thick weeds, listening for the creek.
Perhaps when the radioactivity in the area finally dissipates to the very last isotopes, the phenomena that persisted vanishes, unable to feed off the energy from the radioactive isotopes.
By then, they'll all be dead, so it won't matter.
Mindful of the uneven terrain, the two made their way through the weeds, in the distance they hear the running creek, and climb over the stones sticking out of the water.
"Are we in the zone, now?" V's curious as Nikita quietly led them.
With her hand, Nikita pointed in the distance and V looked in yonder, seeing that there's unkempt grass that went up to her knees that they've been traveling through, suddenly stopping, becoming short and trimmed, like someone didn't cut the grass all the way through the area.
"When we cross that threshold, you are in the zone, and where we enter, will not be the way we leave, are you comfortable with these arrangements?" Nikita gave V the final chance of backing out, but the tourist crossed her arm, her glistening lips pulling back into a smile as she turned her head to Nikita.
Smiling, V says to Nikita, "I didn't come all this way for a nature trail."