The air has the light smell of smoke as the wind travels north. The sound of an encroaching Blowout is growing nearer, those distant rumbles overhead cause this sort of weight to form in the back of my head. My head leans back into the chipping brick wall I'm leaned up against and I close my eyes, listening…letting that same weight start to fill my body like filling a cold glass with hot water.
Despite the sky being completely overcast with white and grey clouds, the light behind my lids is still bright. The darkness of my closed lids this muted burgundy mixing in front of my eyes. The air is cold against my skin, making goosebumps raise up on my exposed forearm.
I usually kept my entire body covered, gloves, long sleeves and my mask but I was in a "Safe" zone. Radiation here wasn't high enough for me to be concerned so I figured I could take a breather. This place that I've settled under is a half-destroyed house, no roof of any kind left to it. The walls that were left were sturdy, built from heavy bricks and some were still covered with a thick but chipping paint.
It'd been a few days since I'd seen my last Anomaly, and less time since another Stalker has crossed my path. I could partially blame myself for that since I never stayed anywhere longer than to eat, get in a nap, smoke a few and then get on my way again.
This light flapping sound makes me open my eyes and look up to see Dima, adjusting his feathers as he's perched high on a tall wooden pole. I couldn't peg if it was once used to hold wires or was a support beam but it was dug deep into the ground and still stuck up straight into the air above the walls of this place.
Dima usually rode on my back or shoulder, when we stopped though, he'd find a tall place to settle. He's a better watch that some of the Stalker's I've crossed, by the time someone else notices company, he's already told me and I'm gone.
I wish I could have glossy and flawless feathers like his, something that just a few quick pecks could perfect after a long trek. I envied his ability to fly away, to dodge trouble and go wherever he wants to go. I still didn't understand why he stuck with me, but damn its never a dull day with him around.
I scoffed and took a long drag off of my half-smoked cigarette, that dry taste on my tongue bringing a small smile to my face. When Dima and I would arrive a place with a few Stalkers, they'd think he stuck around for food. He quickly left my shoulder and would nip at peoples ears all night while I tried really hard not to bus a gut laughing.
He never needed me for care, he never needed anyone for anything…another reason I envied him and respected him.
Just as I move to take another drag, Dima cries out and takes flight. The flapping of his wings is usually my little timer, I better be prepared by the time I can't hear him anymore. I set down the remaining butt of my cigarette in a little crevice between some bricks, grab the base of Dragunov, swinging it up and resting the back of it on my shoulder.
Sturdy, heavy and as glossy as the day I…acquired it; many Stalkers have their niche and mine was Dragunov.
I was on the ground floor of this place so I looked around, knowing that there were still some remnants of a second floor here…just had to find the stairs to get up there. Low and behold I found myself a set of worn out, rickety wooden stairs that somehow survived. I tested my weight on the first step, sort of just bouncing there for a moment on the front of my foot. It croaked with my weight but remained firm so I kept going up, paying close attention to the depth of the creaking. If it was louder than the others, I'd step as close to the wall as possible for more stability.
Once I get to the top, I see that only this landing has survived and I looked around more. The walls here are also made of those massive brick's downstairs, good cover for me and all the windows are heavily boarded up. One thing that made me wrinkle my nose was the blatant garbage scattered about. The wrappers were new looking and there were bits of food still on them. Disgusting.
My eyes are drawn to this little opening level with my shoes, a square shape in the wall where a brick had been removed. I knelt down and peered through it, a perfect little opening out into the world and a dream spot for my set up.
Pulling out the tripod and setting it up before that small opening, I lay down on my belly and lean into the scope, my eye focusing on the light red tinge to the center arrow.
Outside this dilapidated house, I can see the open field and the tall grass waving in the breeze. There's a long wall of stone not too far off from here and I can see 6 heads bobbing around behind it. I let a small snicker escape as they all suddenly hide behind the wall at the same time, like prairie dogs.
I keep my scope trained on the edge of the wall closest to my hiding place and wait, finger lightly pressed on the trigger.
There's a distant pop and the area I'm watching is engulfed in smoke, just as they start moving in. The smoke is still spreading out as the first in their line comes out, only half hidden by the smoke and I don't hesitate.
I aim nose level about an inch from his face and fire, the bullet snapping his head back and squirting blood into the air. His limp body collapses backwards and knocks his friends back and I curse.
I expected them to have a little more sense than snuggling right up behind one another. His body falling backwards, knocked the rest of them back as well. It was going to be at least two easy kills, but then again no one said these guys were smart.
The cloud spreads out and I pulled back from the opening, propping my rifle up against the wall. Ok, of the five remaining, I saw two with long rifles on their backs and the other three only seemed to have handguns.
They appeared to be other Stalkers, not from the government so that provided a different list of expectations. They wouldn't have the experience of those bastards, but that also means they're unpredictable. Their dumb luck could also be bad news for me, keeping my distance won't be easy since newbies always charge in like mutated boars.
I started towards the stairs and just as I got to the third step from the bottom, I stopped. I held my breath and listened as three sets of footsteps started in and I wait when I hear that familiar flutter of feathers overhead.
That sound was quickly followed by a wet plop and a curse.
"What the hell?"
I pulled my knife out of the sheath on my hip and jumped down the last two steps, my foot skidding slightly upon landing. I had maybe two seconds to kill these three and find where the other two went.
They came in in a line, three gas mask wearing men with the leader of their line having a little white splatter on his head. I used the momentum from my jump to launch me forward and I dug the knife into his throat until the handle bumped his jaw.
Releasing the knife, I shoved him aside and body slammed the second one back, hitting the third with a loud 'oof'. The three of us fell outside the house and I jumped up, backing away and snatching at my handgun, firing directly at their heads. The guy on top of his friend took the bullet through his left eye and went limp, his friend however had that dumb luck I was worried about.
My bullet ricocheted off the very edge of the lens of his gas mask and I heard it fling. I took aim again and fired two more rounds, both burying themselves in his forehead. I kept my gun raised as footsteps reached my ears and I whipped around just in time to see the remaining two round the outside of the house, their long rifles at the ready. I managed to fire one round as I jumped back through the doorway and bumped into the still struggling body of the guy I stabbed first.
"Cyka blyat!" one of them shouts and I catch eyes with the one remaining.
He's coughed up some blood inside his mask and I can see the droplets on the inside of his lenses.
"Sorry, you were supposed to die first." I say and grab his jaw with one hand and the handle of my knife with the other. One sharp twist and crack, he stops struggling and dies. I jump up, tugging my knife from his throat and hurry behind the wall.
I reached over my shoulder and pulled my AK to brace against my shoulder and took a deep breath. Two left, both had long range weapons; I might have to take a few shots for this.
I turned the corner and raised my sight to presumed eye level, pulling the trigger and sweeping to the right, blood spraying against the door frame and just as the second one went down, my left leg kicked out from behind me and I fell to one knee. I looked up and could see a smaller looking man out in the field. I raised up my site and took a shot and he screamed, falling to the ground.
His voice carried out over the fields and I sucked in a breath through my teeth. Looking down, I could see the rip in my pants and the growing dark stain spreading out on my pants. I bowed my head and flopped over onto my back, my thigh burning and aching as I reached down the back of my thigh.
I never thought I'd be so happy to feel a bullet hole in the back of my thigh. The bullet wasn't still in my body so it was going to be an easy patch up job, but I hate the sounds coming from outside. The guy I shot was making a racket out there and I could hear the snarling barks of Blind Dogs as a pack swarmed in towards him.
I tried to ignore the sound as I got myself up, his scared yells devolving into desperate screeches and sloppy tearing. I got up and slowly limped up the stairs, no longer worried about the stairs creaking.
Once I found my Dragunov still set up by the wall, taking it off the tripod with an audible click. I pulled at the boards from the farthest south window and looking out into the field I could see them tearing at his limbs.
I watched as the skin ripped loudly and the dogs heads were painted dark red, this wet crunching filling the air and the stench of iron. I glared into the site and centered his head and whispered to myself.
"Dasvidaniya," and pulled the trigger, his head popped back and hit one of the Blind Dogs in the snout.
Lowering Dragunov and stepping back from the window, to me wasn't even relaxing. My muscles were tensed up and I wasn't sure how long it would be until that Blowout starts, but I'm sure I can come down from this without any interruptions.
I loaded Dragunov onto my back and closed my eyes again, feather fluttering reaching my ears as Dima returned to my shoulder and let out a softer trill as he settled.
"Damn it…That was my last cigarette."