Speaker for the Zone
Chapter 3
Word traveled quickly.
By nightfall, there were enough loners at the ruins of Freedom HQ to make Duty's horde look like a little mob. Even Clear Sky coughed up some medics and sent them over. The whole Zone had mobilized to help Freedom in its time of need.
That couldn't change the fact that Velvet's numbers had been decimated. She probably had nothing to fear from Duty anymore. In fact, nobody did. Duty was finished, now. They would be even more vilified than Bandits. Duty would regroup, and grow strong again – but they no longer had a future. The smart ones would leave the Zone or change sides. Another similar organization would probably turn up, but Duty was through. It was now only a matter of time.
Ever had deliberately stayed behind when the Duty men pulled out. That was his way of saying that it was time for him and his faction to part ways. His plan, the Colonel had said. Not exactly.
Ever had known that Duty would never allow Freedom to grow unchallenged. His first plan had been to delay the attack, to give Velvet time to dig in and gain strength, in the hopes that when he could stall them no longer, Duty would see that such a fight would be ill-advised.
That plan had failed. Ever had underestimated the hatred for Freedom harbored by Duty's top men. He'd also overestimated their intelligence and moral fiber. "The last time I ever give anyone the benefit of the doubt," he groaned, when he came around in the medical tent as men from Clear Sky pulled bits of lead from his chest.
No, Duty was dead set on driving Freedom out. And Ever hadn't seen a way to stop it – but he had seen a way to prevent bloodshed. Freedom was richer than it had ever been, but it would still never match Duty's resources, because a good business plan just wasn't as good as being backed by numerous governments. Ever proposed a show of overwhelming force. Even if he overestimated Duty's men, he knew Velvet was no fool. If Ever showed her a losing battle, she would have no choice but to fold.
He didn't want to see Freedom die, but it was better than having the bloodiest showdown since the battle for Chernobyl. But that was exactly what we'd gotten. If they were going to go to the trouble to hire a few hundred mercs, why not use them?
Ever wasn't as bad off as he should've been. Russett wouldn't let him walk around, but he was calm and lucid as soon as he came around. I don't know how it happened, but with Velvet out of commission, he was suddenly in charge. Not in any official capacity, but the Biker listened to him, and the Biker was Velvet's second in command.
Before even a day had passed since the battle, he was already trying to figure out what Freedom was going to do. They had all the help they needed to get back on their feet, but Yantar was no longer such a desirable piece of real estate. They were going to have to find somewhere to go, and a way to move the wounded.
Yantar was just a graveyard now. Already some of the able-bodied well wishers were digging graves. Few of the burned corpses were recognizable, but at the very least they could have their own graves and markers, even if there were no names. A small forest of wooden crosses had already gone up, and the job was only half-done.
The Biker shouldn't have been on his feet, but someone had to be the executor of Ever's decisions. Sagaris did his best to back him up.
It was a mess. None of us would ever be able to get rid of the stench of burned flesh. They were trying to get people fed after dark when I found myself a little way off, looking at the stars. Russett found me. We hadn't spoken all day; we'd both been too busy. She'd brought me a shirt; I don't know where she got it. I pulled it on.
She looked tired, and a little blank. Our generators had all been destroyed; there was nothing but firelight for us now. Russett and I were well outside it, standing in shadow, apart from the others. She smelled vaguely of the alcohol wipes she'd used to clean her hands, though her fatigues were still sodden with the blood of the people she'd been trying to help.
"How's Velvet?"
"She'll live."
"And the Biker?"
"Not if he doesn't slow down. Between him and that English guy, they seem to have it under control."
"He's German," I said absently, putting my arm around her.
"I saw that guy."
"I wish I had."
"It was him or Sagaris. You aren't coming back this time, are you?" She found my right hand and rubbed it gently.
"I'm not making the script here."
"I guess not. What's going to happen?"
"One way or another, they'll rebuild. They have to. If they don't, there'll be a vacuum, and Duty will capitalize on it, and this will have been for nothing. Ever knows it. Even if Velvet doesn't…"
"Pull through?"
I nodded. "He'll still do it. And the Biker will back him up. He won't let Duty win. And the Merc will stay with Velvet."
"That big guy isn't very upfront with his feelings, is he?" It was not at all strange that we were talking like this after the events of the day. What were we supposed to talk about? The slaughter?
"He's complicated," I said.
"Good thing him and the Biker haven't figured each other out yet. There'll be trouble when they do. Sagaris found this." She held out Lunch Box. It was muddy, but still in one piece. A good cleaning and it would probably be all right. It took it and hefted it. The gun felt depressingly heavy. I didn't want anything to do with it. I handed it back. She looked vaguely surprised. Neither one of us had enough left after the day to muster up much more than this.
"I don't plan to do any more shooting anytime soon," I said. "I've had enough."
"Me too."
"Should we go?"
"You serious?"
"I guess."
"You can't, though."
"I think I can. Now."
"But you shouldn't."
"Maybe not."
"I want to stay with Velvet." Russett really did. Anything was better than facing the outside world without her sister, even the Zone. What was actually best for her – well, I'd stopped having opinions on things like that quite a few bodies ago. There was always work for a good medic in the Zone. Keeping busy helping people kept Russett going. I understood that. I also understood she wouldn't be any safer anywhere else. The Dane was still out there, and he'd been paid for two sisters, not one.
"I'm sorry."
"Next few weeks," she said, looking over her shoulder at the makeshift camp. "There wasn't going to be much time for us anyway."
She was right about that. If it was a mess now, that was nothing compared to what it would be tomorrow, and the day after. Would Bandits show up with funny ideas? Would Duty try to pull something together to finish the job, and Ever with it? Was there a way for the local mercs to benefit from this situation? The military? Any outside governments?
The actual body count was nothing compared to the battle for Chernobyl, but it was still too high. The stalker population still hadn't gotten back to normal, and now Duty, which did most of the heavy lifting in terms of keeping the Zone in check, would be down to a skeleton crew.
Things would get worse before they got better. The battle for Chernobyl had strengthened the Zone, and so had the recent changes. I was ready to bet the rate of expansion had doubled in the last twenty four hours.
"Do you at least know where you're going this time?"
"No idea."
"Figures." I pulled her a little closer. It was cold out, and she was warm. For all I knew, the last warmth I was going to feel for a long time. "You remember how mad Velvet was last time? This time it's going to be a lot worse."
"No helping it."
"I guess not." At least there was someone who understood. That was worth something to me.
"Wait a minute," she said, pulling away. "You aren't – you mean you're going now?"
"I think so."
"You're not even going to take a gun?"
"What for?"
She sighed and hugged me. "Then this is it."
"You can come if you like."
"Velvet needs me more than you do."
"I guess."
"How long have we been here?"
She meant the Ukraine.
A few minutes ago I'd have been able to tell her. Months or years, it didn't matter. Time was different in the Zone. "I don't remember."
It was tempting to let the hug just go on and on. Letting go is the hardest part, but I did it. This was not a tearful parting. We both understood the situation, in our own ways. I was very grateful for that, and I expect Russett was too.