Part I. The Job.
On paper, this job it seemed simple: meet the convoy at check-point N17, and then lead them 10 clicks into the Zone, to a Research Station N29. Anywhere else it in walking distance. But, “that side”, is not anywhere. It inside of on exclusion Zone. But job is a job. If I won't do it, some other stalker will pick it up. So, I've send my fixer my price and terms. He agreed to everything almost instantly, which was not a good sign. Whoever was running that convoy was either desperate or did not care, who will lead them on the Path. But, then again, I'm relying on my gut feeling, while fixer is talking to an actual client.
Now I had to prepare, in the short 6 hours prior to our walk to “other side” of the fence and check-points. I've booted my comp, and went through everything I could find: weather report, last reported incidents on the “Fence”, news of arrival and troops rotations, locations, locations, locations, and more locations. Trying to memorise the latest maps, latest changes in anomaly fields, position and roads to other check-points, approaches to Research Station, their layout, know security, water level in Pripyat river, hunting contracts in the same area, and any rumours about it.
No, before you ask me you can find that in your google search engine. Most of information is scattered across hidden chat rooms, info-fixers who tend to sell that kind of knowledge, and yes, it may be as reliable, as your TV weather forecast. At least military has decided to share the weather report around the Zone. Some even share the latest reports and prediction on the Outbreak from the Source. Tchernobyl is not a tourist park any more: its military base crossed with mutated zoo. Where zoo inhabitants are the least of your worries.
Before I knew it, it was 3 AM, and my shining green tea pot was empty. I've done another check of my gear: well worn boots, bag of sand and bolts, gas mask and goggles, “seven-russian” ammo for kalash, tactical radio and anomaly detector with extra batteries. Everything was laid out in front of me.
“You should've asked who is leading that convoy”,- an angry thought crossed my mind.
Something was missing.
“They said they agree to my payment, but never confirmed that they will follow your instruction before going in!”, - an annoying voice in my head would not shut up.
There. I've forgot about knife, rations and flash-light.
“If they are going to RND29, they will have women on board”, - they ever-knowing whisper kept bugging me.
True. RND29, had a science team lead by a Swedish blonde, with a name I could not spell. I've checked my knife: it needed sharpening.
“Convoy is most likely led by some army goon, who will hide in the tank”, - whisper became unbearable. But as far as I knew, no stalker in Camp Odessa, got a delivery job. So army is getting it done. That's a bad news.
I've added matches and pack of cigarettes into sealed plastic bag. Then grabbed a lighter. Never met a soldier who didn't smoke.
“You must be on check-point early,”- the sick buzzing feeling of things to come, became even more annoying, - “they might not wait for you.”
My wrist watch showed 3:43 AM. My alarm showed 3:50 AM. I need to get some sleep. I grabbed the phone and left a short message to Wheelman. He never sleeps. Not after his last raid to “other side”, anyway. I cursed. But it was too late. The “word” has slipped in. I've cursed again, this time loudly.
Wheelman came two minutes before the agreed time. Professional courtesy. He did not asked anything, the simple look at my kit gave the answer. Then he put on a morning radio show and drove me almost to a pistol shot away from check-point. By the time guards had me in their sights and illuminated by searchlights Wheelman was long gone.
Now I stood with my hands up under the morning drizzle from the sick grey sky. Two guards were coming towards me in a well trained cautious lock-step, with one covering another during movement, and both kept me firmly in his sights. That was good. These guys kept their head cool and watched the 360 degrees around their check-point. Only a fool thinks that a “Fence” is impenetrable for the mutants.
I glanced on my watch. 6:01 AM.
I was on time.
Convoy was not.
This is a preview of short story I've written for background of the Zone. If you'd like to read more, then either open a pdf file or download it. Thank you for reading.
