Sole Survivor

An hour ago…

Evgen smiled to Crow with great content as he pointed his slick M1911A1 U.S. Army Colt at the center of his forehead. Crow gazed back deep with hatred into the bandit leader's eyes as he laid down with an elbow to support his upper body, shot twice at his left leg as he tried to make a run for it while dropping his Berretta and LR-300 to lighten his weight, he was out of ammo anyways. He didn't need to look at his comrades as he knew they were already dead, but he looked anyway. He watched as the bodies of his close friends being rummaged by the rats of the zone, he gritted his teeth and clenched his fist with the dirt of the earth under his nails. The burning rage grew inside him, killing him with defeat and humiliation, he didn't make an effort to hide his displeasure, especially towards Evgen.

"Bang," Evgen mocked as he tilted his gun upwards as if it was a sick joke. He holstered back his Colt and strode across Crow, heading towards his subordinates.

Crow blood boiled even more, "Aren't you gonna kill me?"

Evgen didn't reply immediately but instead requested his lieutenant to inform Borov about the capture.

"You resigned from the mercs two weeks ago, am I correct?" Evgen asked, ignoring his previous question.

"What does this have to do-"

Evgen aimed his Colt at Crow again, "I ask the questions here, not you."

Crow went silent, surprised for a bandit leader to use ruthless tactics and strategies, and to even speak far from a criminal. At the moment Vyhor detected fourteen high-ranking pro bandits in his PDA, Crow knew he was screwing with someone simply smarter. From the looks of it, Evgen is not your everyday criminal thug you see in the dark alleys of your streets. In fact he was more than that, he was a notable hitman in a large populous city named Donetsk, in eastern Ukraine. Born in a small village of Tulchyn, at the age of five he lost his father due to a severe case of Tuberculosis. Two years later after that, Evgen woke up to found out that his mother has left him.

"Your friend Shev just set you up," Evgen continued, "So at the moment you are in a very tight spot."

"What do you want then?" Crow negotiated, "It's obvious that you're not after my stash." Crow looked back at the remains of his teammates and their stolen equipment. The hammering pain of his left leg won't stop, his mind was receiving numerous agonizing shocks from his leg's pain receptors. He slowly moved his hand to apply pressure to the wound so it would reduce bleeding and at the same time, preventing his sworn enemies from detecting his attempt.

"Last week, there was a meeting between the mercenaries and the bandits to discuss on some certain issues…" Evgen began and a moment of silence ensued. "…and then the unexpected happened! Five rogue but professional loners ambushed the meeting in the Wild Territory and all of them were impressively killed, including my close friend, Blaze." The bandits gathered around Crow, one leaning on a derelict tractor taking a smoke, three sat at their respective building debris comparing their newfound weapons, the others were just standing, grinning, mocking, and laughing at the pathetic state of Crow. Crow hated the emotion of fear, the thought of the excruciating terror of going to be tortured and killed. The feeling of when you are afraid and panic in a deadly and helpless situation that will result you to beg for mercy or pray for help, that feeling of hopelessness.

"Of course it was a no-brainer that Crow and his little gang did it, am I right guys?" Evgen shrugged towards his allies and they murmured in agreement. "But the real question is…" Evgen began moving back and forth as if he was a college professor hitting his students with a tough calculus question. "…why did you do it?"

"You wanna know why?!" Crow fumed.

"Yeah I do want to know why…"

"It's because…" Crow took a deep breath, "The mercs aren't what they're used to be, not now, not ever, they fucking sold themselves to you fuckin' pigs! AAAAAAAAARRGH!" Crow screeched in tremendous agony as Evgen forcefully crushed Crow's wounded leg and joggled it as if he was stepping the butt of his cigarette.

He hurled back in pain, trying to regain control of the numb feeling that he is receiving. The bandits laughed cruelly, mocking his cries, in fact, one of them is recording this demented torment with his Nokia phone.

Evgen raised his hand for his fellow no-life members to halt and went towards Crow and crouched beside him.

"Wolfhound wants you dead, Borov wants you dead, and I want you dead." Evgen said, "So I want retribution, but not the stereotypical retribution…" Evgen motioned his gun, "…I'm talking about my kind of retribution."

"What do you want from me?" Crow pleaded.

Evgen grinned and stood up, "Okay boys, get him up, he's coming with us. Let's head off to the Agroprom!"

---

Garik tries to maintain his straight posture, but he couldn't help leaning forwards and backwards with his tiptoes, and also his eyes on Roksana. Despite the fact that Tolik rarely goes to Rostok, let alone the bar and Hacky hasn't been in the zone for a long time, Garik and the rest of the current stalkers in the 100 Rads paid their unwanted attention to Roksana's figurine, especially her plump breasts, stunning hips and that nice ass. Of course it was natural for the male species, after a while of enduring female isolation, fantasizes extremely of one's sexual needs. Natural but still very creepy.

Roksana sat at the far right corner of the bar interior, knowing that they were some horny or plainly curious guys staring at her, she ignored by focusing on the varnished wood of the interior. It was ancient and nearly faded, there were some small parts of vandalized chipped wood and some soaked parts too, obviously from the liquor. The three sat together, Roksana was beside Hacky and Hacky was beside Tolik.

"What can I get for you gentlemen…and lady?" the barkeep offered, with a notorious wink to Roksana.

"A bottle of Lvivske please," Tolik replied.

"A Bombora for me…" Hacky tapped the counter.

"You don't by any chance serve cocktails do you?" Roksana smiled flirtatiously.

The bar residence turned their eyes all to Roksana, wishing that they have a miraculous cocktail right under sleeves, and hoping to be the first one to get laid in the zone.

The barkeep gulped, "No…No we don't unfortunately."

"I'll have a Jack Daniel's then thanks."

After having received their drinks, the respective stalkers held out their hands of liquor as a toast, to progress. Tolik quenched his thirst with the cold icy beer down his throat, "Nothing is better than a nice local beer…"he thought.

Tolik stood up, took his stool and placed it between Roksana and Hacky, blocking the path of any potential drunken moron from introducing themselves and preventing anyone from eavesdropping.

"How long have you guys been around here?" The barkeep asked, wiping his beer mugs with a stained cloth.

"She's new…I haven't been in the zone for ages and I don't know much about this guy." Hacky replied, thumbing at Tolik.

"I've only been here for like…two months." Tolik claimed. "Don't usually hang out here though."

Roksana grinned flirtatiously, "So why do you hang out here Tolik?"

Hacky sniggered, "It's obvious isn't it?"

Tolik gave a weak smile, he didn't know why all of a sudden that he wanted to follow these two newbies. All the time he spent in the zone were mostly collecting artifacts (if he was lucky enough), hang out with his friends at the rookie camp, sleep, fleeing from the bandits or the military and getting his ass saved by an amnesiac stalker named Marked One.

"Well let me tell you the truth right now Tolik." Hacky said, "I only paid Wolf half of the money. Let's admit, the zone is no doubt a treacherous place, and we definitely need more than two stalkers doing this mission of ours. Did Roksana tell you about why we are here?"

Tolik nodded. "Good, because I can't be bothered explaining myself to death. So, are you good with guns?"

"Can't say that I am…" Tolik admitted, reminiscing a gun battle between the rookie loners and the small-time bandits. It took him nine cartridges of 9x18mm Makarov ammo to lay down a limping bandit fleeing from the scene.

Hacky looked disheartened, his chances with Wolf were slim from the very beginning. He knew he shouldn't have been too friendly and outgoing.

"I know who you're looking for!" the owner of the 100 Rads said.

Roksana eyes widened with joy, "Who?!"

"There is a stalker by the name of Flash, one of the most energetic and cunning lad I have ever seen here in the zone. He wears nothing but a black bandit jacket and some Kevlar pants, and with only that, he survives the zone for eight months and counting. There's more about him…interested?" Barkeep asked, tapping the counter for a sweet tip. Hacky took out his wallet and pulled out a fifty and laid it down to him. The barkeep grinned with satisfaction and recounted his thoughts.