I sit here now, on the edge of my hotel bed, in Kiev, reflecting on the last few weeks. My weathered fingers grip the only object to remind me of the horrors and the hell that I witnessed in the corner of this world.

The black and white photograph shows the cheery faces of my other squad mates, gathered round, before we entered the zone.

We happened to meet in a vacant bar, in Kiev. I can’t remember how it started, but we somehow assumed that each one of us wanted to get inside that zone. The others had all been fascinated by the effect of radioactivity on organisms, and so wanted to study the all-too-real mutants.

In hindsight I realised that our meeting was beyond a coincidence, but I thought nothing of it over the next year.

We all wanted to enter the zone, but we decided to pass past the military posts individually.

I had entered the zones northern perimeter undetected, which showed my worth to Duty. But it was in the aftermath of a bloody battle in which I managed to dispatch five Monolith members that Duty offered me a place.

Duty is the only stalker clan who take it upon themselves to eradicate the mutant infestation of the zone. After rising through the clan I became leader of bravo squad. Playing my part and Doing What Must Be Done. To rid this corner of the earth from the hellish creatures that dwell and fester within.

We hunt the mutants to their hives and their nests, where they can be annihilated.

This is not for material gain, we strive to protect the human race from the possible invasion of a mutant force. We must destroy them while they are contained.

Duty carry out their own training inside the zone, where it is easier to learn the habits and instincts of the mutants. All members are trained in combating all known mutants, while each member of “protector” rank specialises in eradication of one particular mutant. My specialty? Controllers.

I always followed the ideology of liberty, to give back to humans what is rightfully theirs: freedom.

When I first saw the nature of the controllers, my mind, my rational thought was blinded with a murderous rage. I couldn’t stand to see a human life reduced to the zombies that lumber before the controllers. I became expert in tracking and eliminating controllers in the most effective way possible.

All Duty members are trained in extreme wilderness survival. We are taught from the experience of Spetnaz, Royal Marines and SAS personnel. We have many militarily trained members, which gives us an edge over other factions, like the misguided Monoliths. We are a formidable force against the Russian military should they get in our way.

The clan is based around the old fabled times of “witch and vampire hunting”. I don’t believe in this never-ending struggle between good and evil forces in these European lands. But I do know of what lies in the zone, and I know that it needs to be dealt with now.

It is hard to explain, but what we see in the zone is beyond the nightmares of the untrained mind. Not mythological creatures, but real flesh and blood creations, with pre-evolved instincts. Instincts from whatever animal they were before.

It was only by chance that a pack of blind dogs had been crossing the area. About twenty bloodshot contorted mongrels barged into the warehouse where our showdown began. Three Monolith members on the ground level were massacred by the frenzied mutts. The other two were pursuing me into the rafters of the building. They hadn’t quite reached the ladder when they were bowled over by the huge dogs. Their jowls dripping with blood and drool. My stomach heaved, and I had to turn away, as I heard the dogs cracking through the skulls.

They were thirsty for more blood, but I managed to escape through the holed roof.

But that was when I challenged the zone with a PM Makarov pistol and a pack of sandwiches.

Now under the wing of Duty I have grown to become a vital asset to the containment of the zone.

One November morning I was called upon by the main Duty leadership. We arranged a meeting place in an old cottage. From my squads camp I travelled to the Duty headquarters, in bravo squads trusty Niva 4x4.

I was told that the scientists would pay very handsomely for the retrieval of a Dr. Durchstein. I asked why not send echo squad, considering they were already close to the location, besides my squad was on outpost duty.

A thought dawned on me and I felt very grim and depressed. Sure enough they confirmed my fears.

“The situation is that doctor Durchstein has been………” he considered the right word “….seized by a controller.” He lowered his tone and said seriously “your expertise is called for.”

I protested that there isn’t much chance this doctor is still alive. Controllers don’t care much for the requirements of the human body.

“We still remain hopeful, considering it has been about eighteen hours since he was captured.” I remained adamant but accepted the mission. A human life is as precious as the next.

I drove back to bravo’s camp and informed my men of the mission. After pointing out the location on a map I showed them a portrait photo of Durchstein.

He was an elderly man, with a shaven head and white beard. His small eyes hid behind glasses.

“We drive out oh-seven-hundred tomorrow. Standard equipment will be LR-300 rifles, and HP-SA sidearms. Except Collins, you take the SVU. I’ll be taking this make-shift tazer for the doctor. Take your standard radiation and anomaly detectors. I don’t want us to be caught out.

“Jones, you drive Reddie, I’ll take Bluie.” We named our Nivas. For easier clarification, of course.

“Aye sir.”

“Johns and Baker your with me. Collins and Smith, ride with Jones.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now get a good nights sleep.”

As planned we set off and reached the destination at 0717. We left the Nivas round a hill, 300 metres from the site. Not being so stupid as to expose our silhouettes in the early light, we moved round the base of a hill.

200 metres from the sight I scouted out the buildings with my binoculars. They were a group of long derelict warehouses, with corrugated-iron roofing. There were no windows on our side, allowing us to sneak up.

I had tweaked an anomaly detector to become hyper-sensitive so it could pick up the eerie psychic transmissions of the controller. I had once asked the scientists about controllers, when I did they looked uncomfortable and muttered their studies were “inconclusive”.

As we approached closer to the buildings, in a hexagon formation, my modified detector let out a few faint beeps.

I unfolded my LR-300, and indicated for everyone to do the same. We were about 100 metres away when a zombie stumbled into view. We crouched low among the thicket of bushes and shrubs.

The zombie turned our way and froze. My throat felt dry and the bottom of my stomach fell away. But then it turned away, crouched down, picked up a small branch and started beating the ground. It continued to do this for more than a minute, so I sighed with relief and slowly rose to continue on.

The key to controller hunting is to always have the element of surprise among your arsenal. A controller won’t have time to attack if you can rush them and take quick shots at the head.

As was usual, I spotted zombies on the roofs of the buildings. The controller waits for you to move in between buildings, then zombies drop down and attack you from all sides. It must be a three-storey drop, enough to break a zombie’s leg.

I wanted to locate the controller, so I signalled to halt, beckoned Collins by my side and pointed out to a steep incline to the right. We crept through the undergrowth so that we could get a clear visual of all the buildings. The peak of the hill was level with roofs of the buildings, perfect positioning for Collins.

When we reached the peak, I scanned the site with my binocs.

Beyond the long warehouse were two smaller buildings, both built in the same style.

About eight zombies were on the rusted roof of each of the three buildings and some moved in between on the ground, trudging through the dirt.

This wasn’t looking good, there were more zombies than one controller could manipulate. In a worst case scenario we would have to deal with more than one controller.

They or it could be inside anyone of the warehouses, in which case the whole mission just became a whole lot more complicated.

I instructed Collins to set-up a makeshift snipers nest here, and said “If you catch the controller in your sights, don’t hesitate.” He nodded.

I peered over my left shoulder and signalled my other four men to advance on the buildings.

I slid down the hill, trying to keep a low profile, and joined the rest of the squad.

50 metres and closing. I signalled to round the right side of the building immediately in front.

We all lined up along the side of the building, as I peered around the corner. I guessed around six zombies were walking around at ground level, and then there were the 24 above.

A few kept trying to walk into walls; blood stains were their knees repeatedly bashed the bricks.

I readied my rifle, pushing it back into my shoulder. I looked over at Collins and nodded. Immediately, I heard a distant puff and a thud overhead.

I ran round the corner and immediately dropped to one knee. I heard my men spread out from behind me, as I found the first target and opened fire. I fired a short burst at one zombie 15 metres away, spraying up his shoulder and across his head. I heard more short bursts as my men fired, then moved.

I was told Dr. Durchstein would be in a dark orange environment suit, the image of which I imprinted in my mind, so as not to miss him.

I ran into the long warehouse and took down dark figures in the shadows. Even in this gloom orange would be distinguishable. I ran outside again and glanced at my men who shook their heads in between firing off rounds.

In the left corner of my vision I saw a blurred figure thump to the ground, beside me. I backed away before I noticed the hole in the right temple.

The zombies had located the threat and were moving in around us. A few dropped behind Baker and Smith. They span round and Baker brought the butt of his rifle into the chin of a zombie, breaking its neck with a crunch.

I felt drowsy and nauseous. I looked at Jones and Johns and raised my sights before shaking my head and clearing the effects of the controller.

I heard a short high-pitched squeal. I span round and aimed at the window above me, double-tapping at the sadistic face I saw there.

I grimaced, and filled with rage I ran inside again and sprinted up the stairs. I found the controller skippering behind boxes. Zombies advanced, murmuring and gurgling at me. I sprayed three bullets across the chest of one, and double-tapped another in the face. But the third was limply gripping what looked like a farming shotgun. I fell to one knee and squeezed the trigger, resulting in a clunky tap. The rifle was jammed.

For half a second I stared down the barrel of a shotgun and murmured: “Shit.” I swiftly dived to the left. Half-way through my side-ways roll I plunged a hand into my jacket’s chest pocket and pulled out my pistol.

I heard a boom and muffled cracks, as the shotgun was fired into the floorboards.

The zombie remained motionless, but I didn’t hesitate and fired a high-powered round, puncturing just above the right ear.

The zombie’s shotgun clattered to the floor as he was blown side-ways. Wasting no time I dropped my rifle and I began to tread carefully.

I slowed my breathing, sensing the silence descend like dust. The gun-fire outside felt distant, I was hunting the controller.

I carefully stepped round a few containers, listening out for sudden movements up ahead.

A scuffle! About five metres ahead. I sprinted past rows of containers when the controller was abruptly in front of me.

The little fucker cocked his head and blinked. I raised my HP-SA and blew the back of his bloated head onto the wall behind. The controllers are strong of mind but have frail bodies.

I peered outside and saw a war zone in the courtyard area, in between the buildings. I smashed a window and leaned out.

Slumped up against a wall was Jones, with bullet holes across his chest and face. I heaved a heavy sigh and traced the sign of the cross.

I was always comfortable with killing mutants, because they quite simply weren’t human, not even indigenous to this earth.

There are others, like me, in Duty who refuse to murder another human, under any circumstances. And so, when dealing with the military we have perfected the art of instantaneous camouflage that even they couldn’t match. Or we avoid conflict altogether and retreat. If we become locked in combat we shoot to maim, which requires a certain mentality when the enemy is trying to kill you outright.

And then there are those in Duty who won’t let any human stand in the way of mutant annihilation, such is their devotion to our common quest.

I ran back to my rifle and with some effort cleared the jam. I ran downstairs and out into the courtyard. Just inside the doorway of one building I saw Johns sitting in a corner, his leg ripped to shreds. Baker was fending off zombies as they approached.

I unexpectedly saw an orange figure pass a doorway, across the yard. I ran past Baker and tossed my remaining LR-300 clips to him. Then I sprinted after the doctor.

When I reached the doorway I pulled out my controller detector and held it to my ear. I heard faint beeps so I put it away and walked up the length of the building.

I pulled out a cathode and an anode and attached them to a power pack. I passed round a steel divider in the middle of the warehouse and saw Dr. Durchstein repeatedly picking up a rock then placing it down again; his controller must be pre-occupied.

I silently stepped up behind him, turned the power pack on and pressed the electrodes in the back of his neck. He juddered and spasmed until he collapsed on the floor. Putting the tazer away, I slung the light body of the doctor over my shoulder and strode out of the building.

I saw Smith had joined Baker and Johns. I yelled “Pack up; were outta here!” Smith repeatedly fired bursts into a crowd of advancing zombies as Baker lifted Johns over his shoulder.

I back-pedalled while firing my pistol. I kept seeing zombies on the outside of the crowd abruptly falling inwards; it was Collins taking pot-shots.

Smith laid down suppressing fire while Baker and I finally rounded the hill and reached the Nivas. Collins ran down the hill, and now had his pistol out, taking more pot-shots.

Taking no chances I opened the boot and slumped Durchstein inside. Baker laid Johns down in the back, while Smith tried to do something about his leg. I got in Bluie and waited for Collins to hop in. Baker was ready and raring to go. I nodded and he sped away, back to camp.

I was ready to follow when Collins said “Shit! Jones. What about Jones?” I looked over my shoulder and saw a mass of zombies trundling across the undergrowth, there were definitely more than thirty there, it’s as though they multiplied.

“We’ll come back for-”

The rest of my sentence was drowned out by the deep thrumming of rotor blades.

Shit, the fucking military were here. I stamped my foot down, throwing the Niva across the grassy terrain. I knew it wasn’t much use trying to outrun a Mi-24 in a white Niva. We would look like terrified rabbits, darting about under a bird-of-preying.

I saw the other Niva, Reddie, up ahead, diving in and out of a ditch. They must have heard the helicopter because I was having difficulty catching up.

Collins briefly withdrew his head from the open window and said “They’re circling round the warehouses.” Then continued leaning out.

“What are they looking for?” I murmured.

We drew up to the trail of reddie, running parallel to a wood. I accelerated and managed to catch-up. I mouthed to Baker to stop, and signalled a halt. We slowed down and stopped at the edge of the wood.

Baker, Collins, Smith and I got out. Looking in the back of the other Niva I asked Smith “How is Johns doing?”

“He’ll be okay. The bullets ripped a good-”

“Bullets?! How did this happen?” I exclaimed, I thought a zombie had clawed his leg.

Smith looked uneasily at Baker. “Johnson was controlled. He opened fire on the closet one,” he gestured to the Niva “which was Johns.” He sighed “We had to return fire.”

“Luckily, Johns was metres away, and the zombie’s aim was terrible.” said Baker.

I walked round to the back of the Niva and peered in. Johns left leg was bandaged and bloody, he appeared unconscious.

Baker asked “Sir, what about the chopper?”

“They’ve stopped by the site.”

“No, I mean we should get moving. They might start looking for us.”

“I understand, just let me check on the doctor.” I took out my pistol and opened the boot. The doctor was still unconscious. I shook him, but to no avail. I slapped his face a few times; he shook his head and blinked rapidly.

“Doctor Durchstein?” he just stared. “Can you walk?” he still stared. “Can you talk?”

“Yes. Of course I can talk.” His voice was unusually high, with a slight Ukrainian accent. “Who are you?”

“Introductions later. Get in the back seat.” I said briskly, grabbing his arm and helping him out of the boot.

He lumbered into the Niva, remaining silent. Collins sat in the back with him, while Baker and Smith returned to the other Niva.

I opened the drivers door and was about to get in when I heard the deep thrumming, pulsing across the open grassland.

I quickly started up the engine and drove off, with the others behind.

“About three-hundred metres and closing.” said Collins, rather calmly.

I pushed the accelerator even further, to maximise our speed.

I did my best to try and see the copter in the rear-view mirror, but it was often out of site.

I estimated it was about 100 metres behind us now.

We rounded an island of dense trees, among the open grassy plane, speeding away, due north.

The Mi-24 now eclipsed the sun, its immense shadow pitting us in darkness. If they wanted us dead they would have opened fire by now.

Just as that thought process left my mind, a sudden streak flew up from the island of trees, and exploded into the helicopters tail, blowing off the tail rotor and sending the great hulking mass spiralling down towards the ground.

I grimaced as it impacted the ground, spewing up dirt and earth. It burrowed into the earth for about half a second before something ignited in the fuel tanks, blowing it apart.

Fragments and twisted metal rained down in front of us. I weaved in and out of the debris, before resuming a straight course.

The vapour trail of the missile could still be seen, and I considered turning back before better judgement took hold. Whoever brought the heli down may want us dead as well.

We continued for about five minutes and finally reached our camp. We de-activated the sentries, presents from the scientists, and lead Dr. Durchstein into a run-down shack at the centre of our camp.

Baker and Collins entered the shack with me, while I stationed Smith outside, to look over Jones, resting in his tent.

The gleaming sunlight caught your eye where ever you looked. The sometimes irradiated wind would roll over the Chernobyl plains, and chill the hairs off your skin.

Although, sunlight couldn’t penetrate through the dilapidated roof, so the interior was unusually gloomy.

Inside, we sat Dr. Durchstein on a mouldy old stool, and decided to let him know enough so that he wouldn’t run away.

“We are bravo squad of Duty.” I waited for a reaction.

“Duty, yes I know of you. You, you seek to destroy all the mutants, don’t you?” he seemed humoured, and wore a sly smile.

I leaned into his face. “Is something funny, old man? My superiors will be mildly disappointed that we didn’t find any such scientist. I for one will have no regrets.” I leaned back and surveyed his now serious face. “Now, tell me, do you know something we don’t?” He remained silent, averting my eyes. I brought out my hand-gun and held it loosely by my side.

After a pause, he reluctantly muttered “Der nomlies.”

“What?” he looked up, into my eyes.

“The anomalies. They are the gates that hold you from your troubles. And the artefacts are the keys.”

“We’re not in the business for artefacts.”

“Don’t play stupid, you know exactly what I mean.” I stepped back from him and looked at Collins and Baker, they both shrugged.

“The anomalies are linked to the mutant infestation? Everyone knows the mutants are a result of intense radiation.”

“Not now. High radiation levels are a factor, but another cause has come into play. You see the radiation has dissipated. The continuing mutations must be a result of some constant energy. The changes we have documented are occurring far more rapidly, more so than mutations over generations.

“We have linked these rapid mutations to-”

The left side of his head exploded. Baker was splattered with blood, membrane and splinters of skull.

I instinctively threw myself away, onto my back. I immediately looked to the wall were the shot came from, and noticed a rather large hole in the rotting wood of the shack. The hole was characteristic of a very high-powered sniper rifle, probably those issued to military stalkers.

I lay there hugging the ground, genuinely not knowing what to do. Collins and Baker we both looking very nervous, having dived to the floor as well.

I considered out situation. Dr. Durchstein is now dead, and we are under siege in this not very protective shack. We don’t know who would want Durchstein dead, or for what reason. However, my guess would point to the military.

Although one thing seems clear; Durchstein was their target and no one else, other wise I wouldn’t be thinking these thoughts right now.

I decided to act, and crawled to the doorway of the shack. I peered out and saw Smith slumped in a deep red pool. The canvas of Johns’ tent was splattered, from the inside.

I immediately whipped out my binoculars and started scanning the horizon and the hillsides.

I was in desperate need of an infra-red vision for my binocs, but that sort of hardware is hard to get hold of in the wider-world. Let alone in the zone.

I didn’t see any movement, beyond the blades of grass bowing to the rolling wind.

Perhaps the snipers had departed. I crawled further away from shack, but there was nothing extraordinary. I crawled close to a dead tree, overshadowing the shack. Hidden behind the trunk I slowly got to my feet.

I saw Baker in the doorway, and gave him an all-clear signal. He cautiously stepped out into the blanching sunlight. Keeping his eyes on the hillside he crept up to my side and said

“No snipers waited behind, huh? Well they got their target,” he nodded his head to the shack. “And a few others.” He muttered under his breath. “I’ll find those military bastards before I leave this hell on earth.” He brought out his combat knife and stabbed it into the dead wood of the tree.

A silence descended, as we both stood, facing the hillsides, the wind whipping at our clothes. Collins wandered out of the shack, looking pale, and feeling morose.

“They could have been ex-Spetnaz, or other special forces.” I said. Baker remained silent. “We have to decide what to do now.” I said as I returned to the shack.

I turned to Collins, “Did you search him?” he shook his head. So I went inside and searched the pockets of Durchstein’s orange jumpsuit. In his breast pocket was a little navy blue booklet, a diary.

I read the last entry; it must have been just before he was seized by the controller.

November the 6th, he was leading a research team out to 633456 – a grid reference – to collect artefact samples.

Why samples? Artefacts usually weren’t very big; they could bring whole specimens back to the labs.

He had requested security for his team. His superiors had allowed them side-arms.

I leafed back through the dates.

October the 24th. His handwriting was scrawled, almost unreadable. His research team had discovered something significant, in the lab. Some property of the artefacts showed experimental evidence that confirmed his “reversal theory”. The rest of the entry was illegible.

I showed the diary to Baker and Collins, who seemed mildly interested.

“‘Reversal theory’, ay? Some sort of magical cure for mutants?” remarked Baker.

I turned to him with a deadly serious face. “It could be exactly that.”

Collins handed back the diary and a leaf of thin paper fluttered to the ground. It had scrawled numbers on it and a label:

256434 – camp 2

I went back to Durchstein and found what I was looking for: a fairly detailed pocket map of the zone. I looked up the grid reference for ‘camp 2’. I estimated a 10 minute drive.

I showed the location of camp 2 on the map to Collins and Baker.

“Let’s get going now. I have an inclination this camp will tell us what Durchstein was up to. Take rifles, side-arms and two grenades each; we don’t know what could be up there.”

This time we would take just one Niva; Bluie. I sat in the driver’s seat waiting for the others, when Collins and Baker hastily piled into the back.

“Drive! Fucking drive!” I obediently started up and put my foot down. I twisted round to ask Collins what’s wrong when I was just in time to see the shack crumple, from a sudden pressure.

“Gravity anomalies.” I muttered

“Yup, I’d say Durchstein’s body is unrecognisable by now.”

We continued for another eight minutes, the small dirtied car hugging the edges of woods and hedgerows.

A low flat bunker rose from the landscape. We circled the building; the uninteresting concrete block gave no clue to where an entrance might be.

Collins’ keen vision eventually found a slight inset in one wall.

I left the Niva in the care of a clump of trees and bushes, about twenty metres from the bunker.

We cautiously approached, all the while checking the surroundings for wildlife, or our military friends.

Collins and Baker covered my back, while I ran my fingers round the edge of what seemed a doorway.

I pressed with my finger tips, where a handle should be. The door moved back and shrugged off, like dust, what I thought was solid concrete.

The new gleaming surface slid to the side, allowing an overwhelming rush of stale air to wash over us.

We stepped in.

A dim light seemed to emanate from the walls, as though the building didn’t want to be consumed by darkness.

I immediately noticed that one-way windows ran the length of the building. I thought the featureless exterior walls were solid concrete.

The building was partitioned into separate labs, with equipment laid out on the work-surfaces, and displays still showing experiment data.

In one lab was a chamber, which looked like experiments were conducted inside. A screen showed a cylindrical container, inside the chamber. The camera quality was poor, but I could just make out what looked like a hunk of rusted metal, no doubt an artefact.

Displays opposite showed that artefact 13-574E1 was emitting an as yet unknown type of radiation.

“Hey!” called Baker from the doorway into the next lab “You better come see this.”

Ranked against the wall of the second lab were vats containing mutants, some of which I had never actually seen before.

Collins looked up at several of the displays. “They’re alive alright. Even shows brain activity in some of them.”

“Shall we get rid, sir?”

“No,” I replied. “Not yet. I want to know what Durchstein found with these mutants,” I looked back to the other lab “And those artefacts.”

I paced back to the first lab and tried to activate a workstation. I called back “Collins, see if you can find anything on the scientists’ logs. Baker come in here and help me with this thing.”

There were some controls next to the screen, but it was mostly touch-screen technology.

Baker navigated to the files on the experiments, before a security warning blocked us.

“How does it know we’re not authorised? We haven’t even put in a password yet.” protested Baker.

I shook my head, realising we weren’t going to get very far. Then I noticed something: “Hey, look at your fingers. The tips, they’re bleeding.”

Baker held his hand up, perplexed. “The screen, it cut my fingers.”

I yelled into the next room “Collins, you find anything?”

No answer.

Shit. I looked at Baker, who slowly turned to face me. Then we bolted into the other room.

Collins was lying on his back. His hands and his face were all bloodied. The console he was working at still gleamed with the last thing he was looking at.

Baker rushed to his side, while I looked at the display.

“Sir, I’d be careful, with this weird scientist shit.” I paid no attention and tried to speed read as much as I could; it was Durchstein’s unpublished paper on reversal theory.

Baker was starting to become agitated. “I can’t find a pulse, dammit I can’t find a pulse.”

He slowly stood up; I noticed it too. Light had briefly beamed through the windows.

We both looked out, across the plains.

There was a pair of headlights bounding up and down across the landscape, heading straight for this bunker.

“What the-” began Baker. It looked like a truck of some sort, travelling quite fast across the rough terrain.

Realising what was going to happen, I hurriedly read through the rest of the paper.

Durchstein had effectively found a new type of radiation, which, in a nutshell, reversed the effects of radioactive mutation. It was incredible, the radiation encouraged new tissue growth, repairing damage, which was previously thought of as permenant.

The radiation even caused DNA strands to revert back to their natural structure.

Possibly the Holy Grail for Duty.

“Shit. Sir, I think it knows we’re here.” I slowly looked up to see what I could now identify as a military APC. It’s metallic menace grinning at me, between the headlights.

More resolved than usual in situations like this, I simply stood. And recited the obligatory “Oh shit.”

The hulk of powering metal burst through the windows; shunting away the wall dividing the first and second lab.

Baker and I were blown off our feat, then buried in rumble.

The first lab was totally decimated, half of the second still stood, with half of the mutants unaware.

Although pinned to the ground by chunks of concrete I still tried reaching for my hand-gun. I felt my fingers round the grip when I heard debris being removed.

I heard muffled talking. Silence. Then a shot very close by, from a pistol.

Rubble above my head was removed, so that blinding light filled my vision. The light moved away, and I could make out the silhouette of someone standing over me.

Before they said anything I knew who they were.

I choked “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right,” said the grainy monotonous voice “we don’t.”

They’d destroyed everything, all the research, and the one man who could bring it back they’d killed.

They left me there, and retreated into the night.

Mutants would be gathering soon, they always respond to changes in the zone.