Sweat, clammy and clinging covers my body, the smell of cordite and putrefied flesh, the taste of iron and vomit, and darkness.
My heart racing, I can feel my pulse in my temples and finger tips, my hands are shaking, eyes darting from point to point, adrenaline coursing through my veins, my senses overloading.
Using my left hand, I drop the magazine out of the scared and battered AK47, push a fresh one home, letting the bolt run forward against my left palm, chambering the first 7.62mm cartridge of a Thirty round stick, as quietly as possible. Putting the empty magazine into my left trouser pocket, my hand comes out moist, smelling the fluid, it's urine, I've just pissed myself.
Listening …… The wisp of air passing, the drip, drip of liquid………..a faint, ever so faint scratching, I move forward slightly, a few inches, then a few more till I've covered about 2 feet and I can probe the closest of the carcasses with the barrel of my rifle. No response.
I retreat back to my sanctuary, my haven, my 5Ft X 4Ft space beneath the concrete stairs on the ground floor of some industrial plant, 20 Klm's inside the perimeter of the Chernobyl exclusion zone. I'm not ready to venture out yet; daylight can't be far off?
Time passes; I take a drink washing the remaining vomit down and rest my back against the solidity of at least 12 inches of reinforced concrete, relaxing my muscles a little and my nerves a lot.
"I'm gonna get out of this one, I'm gonna make it" I keep repeating this mantra to myself; it was a close thing but your alive, lucky and alive. Yes lucky there weren't more zombies, lucky you got your back into this corner and lucky the controller has lost interest?
How did I end up here?
Four Hours ago I was serving as a perimeter guard, a relatively safe position on the boundary of the exclusion zone, a post I had held for over a year. Occasionally we would trade with STALKER's, a little black market, that sort of thing. You get to meet these guys, their stories, the adventures they've had and the wonders they've seen. So I begin sneaking into the zone, against orders and all that, not far, nothing dangerous? Then one day this STALKER, Rolf a German, I've traded with him a couple of times, some 7.62 and filters, says he's seen me inside the zone and I should go out with him one time.
I thought about little else for a week, what an opportunity it would be and the next time he was through, I told him I was interested. It could only be fore a short time, 6 hours or so or I would be AWOL (absent without leave) and the shit would hit the fan. Deserters get shot in this part of the country.
We arranged to meet at the end of my shift, inside the wire, not far from my blockhouse, away from prying eyes. I gathered the gear I was told I would need; NBC suit, gas mask, 12 filters, binoculars, rations 48Hrs, 3 canteens of water, 2 frag grenades, 2 smoke, 24 9mm rounds for my Glock pistol and 7 sticks of 7.62 as well as my normal equipment. Eg Flack vest, Bayonet.
At the appointed time I made my way to the rendezvous, Rolf was waiting, his smile stood out in the darkness. "What'cha smiling for" he was obviously in good spirits!" I thought you might have chickened out. It's gonna be a walk in the park,"" You bring that gear?"
"Yeah"
Rolf,Getting up from where he squatted in the long grass, " All of it?"
" Yeah the lot" "Should I put the suit on!"
" No need to get a head of your self, everything is fine now!" and he started along a disused track headed into the zone.
I headed after him, he set quite a pace. After travelling for about an hour, he paused on the track and signalled that we should move to the right into a lightly wooded area on a slight rise.
We trekked into the woods and up the incline to just below the ridgeline where he signalled me to halt while he crawled to the crest to reconnoitre.
After about 10 minutes he signalled for me to join him.
I reached the top in no time, in scarcely above a whisper"It's been rather uneventful"
"You never can tell"
"Where we headed, what can you show me!" Getting a little anxious.
"Well I got this spot in mind, it's seen some action, nearly every time I've been there!"
"So you think there might be some action"
"Yeah a little, not much and nothing I can't handle!" "We gotta go, it's still a couple of hours off, so keep quiet and follow me!"
So after a quick scan at the surrounding terrain, he was off.
Around 2 hours later I'm getting worried about getting back by my deadline, when Rolf comes to a halt on the crest of a small ridge and signals that we should talk.
"Hey man, I gotta get back and theirs barley enough time"
"Hold on their, My special place is just over the hill, and theirs plenty of time, we had to be especially careful on the way here, but I've got a quicker way out for you!"
"Its Gonna be OK isn't it!"
"Yeah Fine, piece of cake!" " So we go down, you stand off at a quarter to twelve and watch the left, I'll watch the right. Questions?"
"What are you expecting!"
"Nothing much, nothing at all really, just being careful"
"So why is this a Special Place!"
"I like it cause I can usually pick up some stuff to sell and its made me quite a few roubles for very little trouble. No more Questions now lets move!"
With that we were on the way. I was feeling a little nervous, anxious, edgy. I held my position and kept focused until we entered the compound, Rolf led the way up to the main entrance, after a quick scan of the corridors he motioned me in to the left, as I passed he said
"Go down first room past the stairs!" So I headed on down. The Door was closed, he tapped me on the shoulder and handed me the key. I unlocked the door and pushed the door wide open. The room smelled musty and tinny, there was debris all over the floor and little light until Rolf cracked a Glow stick and threw it in. The light revealed what I had taken to be debris, several packs, 3 to 4 handguns, 4 long arms and a pile of cloths, discoloured in brown much like the stain that covered most of the floor.
Confusion befuddling my mind I turned and said" Quite a stash"
Rolf, his grin widening said, "It's getting bigger all the time!" Raising his AK ae47.
The look of horror on my face, retreating in to the room as I realized what was happening, what had happened to others, could be gauged by Rolfs ever increasing grin. He obviously relished this part.
My horror only increased as he followed me in, drawing out the moment, prolonging the toucher, I was armed but I wouldn't stand a chance.
"Don't move, I want this as clean as possible, make it easy and I'll make it painless!"
Several other forms appeared behind Rolf silently; the look of further astonishment and direction of my eyes caused him to glance over his shoulder, spinning and dropping to one knee, he opened up on full auto truncating the 3 zombies that had made it into the room. I took cover in an alcove, which had obviously been storage space under the stairs. Rolf was reloading and firing as more zombies pushed in to the room. He was falling back and I was firing in the intermission. He kept firing until his weapon ran dry with an ominous click and around 20 figures lay in pieces about the floor. He turned making to move to me, I pulled the trigger leading the bullets up through him to concentrate on the last of the zombies in the doorway as the Glow stick faded away.
And there I sat in the darkness, piss and puke, blood and faeces, twitching at every sound and just praying it was over.
The grey light of predawn came creeping through the shattered windows of the adjoining hallway, filtering through the doorway, offering soft illumination on a scene direct from HELL.
Rolf lay dead in a pool of his own blood scant yards from me and strewn across the intervening space to the door, the mutilated remains of his
And what of the controller? Was it out there with more zombies, had it just ran out of strength, was it preparing a new assault?
I couldn't stay here?
No I can't stay here, it would be back and I will run out of ammunition, water or food.
So steeling myself, I push into the wall sliding my back up the slick concrete surface, never taking my eyes of the doorway or my finger off the trigger.
Stepping over Rolf, I make my way across the room staying on the periphery of the ever-intensifying light. I make it to the firearms piled on the floor, I glance down, the two AK's have no magazines, so that's why Rolf told me to bring the extras. Crouching down I examined the M16 and discover a full magazine of 5.56, the LR300 also has a full mag, so that's 60 rounds. The LR is a superior weapon but finicky and ammo is hard to come by as it is a foreign calibre and supply is sparotic. The next long arm was a FN2000 machine gun and only issued to military SALKER's, had one of Rolf's victims been a GHOST. The common soldiers knew military Stalkers as ghosts, because they were already considered dead men. They lived apart from the rest of us in a firebase inside the exclusion zone and they got the most difficult assignments in the deepest, most dangerous parts of the zone. There were no actual stories, everything was TOP SECRET on a Need To Know basis, only rumours spread by stalkers returning from their own errands.
The last long arm was a Dragunov sniper rifle a precursor to the SDV, an excellent weapon of its age and in fair condition, in the right hands a marksman could hit a target over a kilometre away. It chambered 7.62 but there was no ammunition in the 10 round magazine.
There were 6 handguns, the strangest was a 9mm Mauser machine pistol, a relic at nearly a Hundred years old but it looked to be in excellent condition, not particularly accurate but a high rate of fire. There were two PM Makarov's a FN
I moved onto the first of the 4 packs, a civilian job, good quality and empty except for a Down lined parker and arctic sleeping bag. He next looked like a rucksack that a STALKER might carry, inside were 2 closed containers with BIOHAZARD symbols, an electronic devise, 2 X24 Ration packs and 2 canteens that seemed full. The last of the packs was a military model, it had an integral water supply built into the frame with an air reticulation unit attached and a single new BIOHAZARD receptacle, this looked to belong to the same fellow who had carried the FN2000, there was nothing else.
I retreated back to Rolf's body; one of my rounds had severed his jugular. I dragged it into the far corner. I then placed my AK within easy reach, rolled him over and began stripping of his rucksack and tattered NBC suit. Low and behold the stalker was wearing a SpecOps Flack Vest. It had been struck by multiple rounds and sustained tearing and burns but it hadn't been breached, it was still serviceable. In side his rucksack was the companion (new) BIOHAZARD bottle with something inside and two more battered ones, a pair of Nightvision optics, 2 canteens full, a solar charge torch, half a ration pack, a shelter half and an electronic device with AZD in raised lettering on the case. I hadn't seen one before but this had to be an Anomalous Zone Detector, a sophisticated piece of scientific equipment used to avoid contact with anomalies that occurred with ever more frequency with in the zone. I had no idea that they were commercially available, maybe to only the selective few?
I removed the Flack Vest and put it on, taking up my AK I moved in a half crouch towards the door, having decided to risk a look out side. Passing within feet of the corpses of the zombies I noticed a metallic flicker amongst the blood spattered gore and remains. Reaching with my left hand, my right on the pistol grip of the AK, I grasped the metallic disk. It was a Dog Tag; the name read "
Pocketing the tag, I moved the remaining 6ft to the door. It was around 5 o'clock and the sun was breaking fully over the horizon. The encounter had taken place about an hour ago; it was fully 20 minutes since I had left the crawlspace, choosing to live rather than wait for death.
My fear had lost its edge and my nerves had settled a bit, I began moving stealthily out into the hall. Glancing at the floor I noticed a mass of blood pooled in the doorway and drag marks trailing around the corner to the stairwell, I shifted my grip on my AK, crossed to the far wall of the hall and slowly stepped in to the T of the stairwell. There was nothing waiting, the trail led up the stairs to the second level, I assume that's where the zombies had come from. Rolf had been careless in his approach to the building his appraisal of me and the murders in general. He should have disposed of the bodies better, not the same mistake I'll be making given the chance.
There was a lot of blood left on the floor and on the stairs, if the trail belonged to the controller, it could be, should be, severely handicapped? Should I escape now and leave well enough alone? Would I be able to escape, from the upper story it would be able to see me, if it had a weapon, no one said they couldn't use weapons did they?
If I just go up easy and see how much more blood there is?
So keeping to the far wall of the stairs I move up them, one at a time keeping balanced, probing with my ears, they turn to the right and switch back on them selves. I hear nothing, nothing bet the scrape and thud of my footfall, the
I crawl up the remaining stairs, so as not to present a target; I poke my head up just enough to see. To the left nothing, to the right the blood trail.
Silhouetted against the windows at the far end of the hall, a figure, I stab the AK forward, tugging the trigger back, On full auto the gun kicks like a mule and tracks up into the ceiling chopping the fibrous panels in to snow like confetti, I'm kicked back, loose balance and tumble down the stairs, I scrabble dropping the old mag and thrust a new one home, let the bolt slide home chambering a fresh cartridge.
Time stands still, lying on my back on the landing, fresh urine pooling in the crack of my arse, waiting for death to descend.
A minute passes, it feels like an hour, I roll on to my stomach and crawl up the stairs, looking to the right, the scene is as before. I check that the gun is loaded and switched to full auto, getting a more secure grasp, determined not to allow a recurrence of the previous incident.
I move into a squat and move toward my target.
Pausing about 14 meters from the target, I can see it is propped on a chair a pool of blood surrounding it. Relief washes over me, my fists begin to shake and I have to loosen my grip to release the pent up tension in my muscles before cramping sets in. Moving closer, the creature has its back to me, straddling the chair leaning over the chair back, looking out the window, towards the rising sun. It's back is ripped open, torn to shreds, its blood no longer dripping, just pooled on linoleum tile, a stark red on dirty brown. It's been dead awhile, probably bled out in the minuets after the incident. I drag it from the chair to a clean stretch of floor, and reach into my top left breast pocket retrieving a KODAK disposable camera and take 3 exposures from different angles. It's covered in brown skin, leather like and about 5ft from head to toe, light frame with sinuous muscle. I put the camera away and draw my survival knife from the scabbard on my left hip. Putting my left knee on its chest, I put my weight behind the blade and begin sawing through its lower neck.
Ten minuets later severed head in hand I returned to the room on the first floor. I wrapped the head in the shelter half and put the package in Rolf's rucksack. Taking my camera again I snap off a couple of exposures. Retrieving the other rucksack, I placed the 2 electronic devices, Smith and Wesson 44, 9mm Mauser machine pistol and the BIOHAZARD bottle with the specimen on top. Preparing to leave I move the weapons and gear in to the alcove beneath the stairs covering them with the clothing remains, the bodies I Then drag out side into the compound, scrounging around I gather some litter and wooden debris and construct a pyre to consume the remains, lest something similar occur. Taking up my bundles I find that I'm carrying more weight than I'm comfortable with, one of the rucksacks would have to remain. I couldn't leave my survival gear so it would have to be one of the trophy packs, which one. Head or gear, deciding to keep the head, I put the other in the room with the other stuff, secured the door and returned to light the fire. Lighting a taper with my ZIPPO I put it to the pyre, strapped on my gear and waited only long enough to ensure the fire would continue to burn for a long time.
I headed out making a beeline straight for the ridge where we first paused; it was slightly higher than the surrounding vista and easily seen from my current location.
One and half-hours later at a forced march I was almost at the crest when I decided to take a piss and have a drink. Looking back the pall of thick black smoke continued to rise uninterrupted into the clear blue sky. The buildings were hard to discern their weathered condition, their colouring and the lay of the land conspiring to make them indistinguishable from the surrounding terrain. Only by tracing the black column to ground could I be sure of that location. A flash, a reflection, the sort you get when the sun strikes glass or water at an odd angle, I scrabble for my Range glasses, I should have had them out not in my rucksack. Scanning the area, I can't see anything; what ever it was it's gone, if it was ever there.
That excitement over, I finish my drink and head out. It's around 8 o'clock and I'm already overdue, with maybe another 40 mins in it. Shit if I'd found the controller earlier instead of cringing in that hole, I could've made it back on time.
—————
Side Story
Stalker sees smoke and goes to investigate. Arriving from the south the Stalker lays up and reconnoitres the area with his binoculars. He sees a man in military fatigues hide something in the building, then leave in opposite direction. The Stalker cautiously approaches the site, when he arrives he finds 20 or so bodies being disposed of. Searching the nearby building he finds the locked room and promptly leaves, heading west from the plant on errands of his own.
—————
"Vladimir! Vlad! It's me Ivan, Don't shoot!"
"Don't shoot I'm coming in!"
I was 150 meters out from my blockhouse outpost and a little over an hour and a half late and desperately trying to be seen. Both my arms were above my head, my shoulders and forearms burning with fatigue of holding the AK. If I dropped them now it might look hostile, they might shoot.
"Arkie you there! It's me Ivan" I'm about 100 meters out, I'm not getting any closer until someone acknowledges me. AK's aren't known for their accuracy, but at under 100 meters any one of these guys could get lucky. " I'm gonna lay down now OK. All Right Here I Go"
The easy part is getting to your knees, then the hard part of falling face first in to the grass and keeping the AK out front. Perhaps putting the gun down first then moving away and lying down would have been a better plan, I only thought of this as the ground rushed up and my face became buried in the dry dusty earth.
"OK Ivan! Get up and come on in! No hasty moves were watching you. He He He!"
I'd only been on the grass less than 10 seconds " Vlad why were you waiting? Didn't you recognize me?"
"Only from about 200meters out"
"Then why"
"To see what you'd do and don't you feel silly"and I did feel silly, humiliated in fact, but also glad, glad that I could feel anything except searing hot lead. All too many times these guys had seen rampaging mutants and laid in to them with hot lead and ordnance to bring quick respite. What was it they said "War is 98% boredom and routine and 2% utter terror" or something like that. I'm glad they enjoyed a joke; I hope the Captain would too, but I don't think he'll be laughing and I'm sure not.
The gate in the fence behind the two barricades screeched open, we left the hinges un oiled on purpose for security. Two MP sergeants stepped out, these guys were big and solid and none to happy. These two were cut from the same cloth and I think that cloth was steel mesh.
There eyes were flat and cold like looking into a snakes, nothing moved them, nothing impressed them, everyone was just a bug, if the order was given they'd crush you like a roach and think nothing of it.
"Soldier Hand me your weapons and fall in" MP on my left
I handed the AK over but first, then removed my pistol from my holster on my right hip and handed it over but first. These guys weren't the slightest bit worried I'd do the right thing, how could I not, one man against a force of nature and their were two standing not 2 yards from me.
I felt small, helpless, chagrined and this was just beginning. I'm sure they felt nothing or even less than nothing. Not like stepping in dogshit in your best loafers more like a farmer walking around horses all day and when he steps in shit he don't even notice.
So we marched through the gate, I heard it sqaul behind me, past the secondary perimeter, into the main thoroughfare, past the enlisted men's quarters, past the amenities and mess area and came to a halt in front of HQ and Administration. "Attentshun"
MP without my guns proceeded up the stairs and into the building. It appeared he was the superior man and I'm sure that's one thing he did feel.
5 minutes later he was back "Follow me Corporal" and I did in my best parade ground manner. We came to a halt in front of the CO's office; the sergeant knocked once then opened the door. Come in Sergent, Corporal, you may wait their"pointing to a space 4 yards in front of his desk. "Yes Sir"
"Sergent consider this a debriefing and take notes will you, they may be required for a court marshal"The Sergent pulled a note pad and pen from his top pocket and began writing immediately.
Corporal Ivan Krunov, begin by telling me where you have been for the past 9 hours"had it only been 9 hours; it felt like a lifetime. And so it began. 2 and half hours later it was over, I'm sure they had wrung ever last detail out of me, after going over my story 3 times and answering detailed question to further clarify specific points. We had the head out, I'm sure I noticed a spark of interest in the MP, fleeting as it was. I was sent to wait in the outer office; the Sergent went off to type up the statement. The Captain made some calls.
Ten minuets later the Sergent was back for my signature, I perused the document, I'm sure the details would be accurate, so I signed.
The Captain poked his head out from behind his door "arguh Sergent, give that statement to my secretary and place this man under close arrest. Take him to the holding cell in the basement, Oh and remove all his effects we'll want those for analysis!"
The basement, I'm naked, the Medic arrives "Well have a full cavity search, any nasties go in there, with the rest for analysis, you can take them when you leave!"
Humiliation is something I'm growing use to, I pray, pray he searches my mouth first"
"OK open up" pointing to ward my head, he's quit gentle and I hope his manner continues, " I like to do the mouth first, you know saves on changing gloves."
"Ok nothing there, bend over and spread you cheeks" as he applies lubricant to the gloves!"
"Ok nothing there, I'll take these and make em priority" and the MED TECH was gone.
Throughout I had watched the sergeant's stone visage and seen not a single emotion had passed, he was truly hard. He turned to the nearby bench and grabbed a pair of prison fatigues, tossing them to me "Get dressed now, Corporal" and closed the cell door.
I was thoroughly worn out. Now I've been around 30 hours without sleep, on two marathon treks, been frightened to my wits end, pissed my self twice, butchered a mutant, murdered a man (alright self-defence, but it didn't feel a whole lot different) and burned the corpses of 20 hapless individuals. I felt weary, tired through and through, all I wanted was blessed sleep.
It came soon enough.
————————————-
Side Story, in another part of the Zone
"Tasic it's me Emmel" the Stalker called from the darkness beyond the firelight.
"Come ahead Emmel" "You alone!" the voice came from within the corrugated iron shack.
"Yeah, you!" stepping into the light.
"No one else has come in yet!" "Get yourself a cup of java from the pot, I'll be right out!"
Emmel grabbed a cup from nearby and poured coffee from the jug at the periphery of the fire. Tasic propped his weapon, a BM16 double barrel shotgun, against the wall of the shack and retrieved the stew he had just ladled out, the proceeded to the fire near Emmel. "You want food, help yourself!"
"No I'm fine, ate a couple of energy bars a couple of hours ago, they'll tide me over till I get where I'm going" what ever you consumed with Tasic got tacked on to your bill, the coffee was usually free!" you got any 5.56!"
"Nah all out"
"Ill take 100, 7.62"
"For what!"
Emmel rummaging in his rucksack produced his 2 Biocanisters. "I got a slug thingy and a nut with some residual!"
Examining the first can, " alright you can have the 7.62 for the Shaft Worm, any thing else you need."
"I'd appreciate cash for the other!"
"Right o, I'll test it with the probe, then we can dicker!" Pushing the copper needle into the thematic seal set in the lid of the can. While waiting for the reading to settle, "What ya seen lately"
Emmel shifted his seat and sat more comfortably in cross legged fashion, "Well now, I was on my way over here, around ALPHA/BETA/Delta, an I saw this pall of thick black smoke coming up from them old industrial sheds. So I head on over for a look see and I get there just in time to see this military type heading off into the woods to the north of there, so I go on in and would you believe it, there's 20 odd zombies and a controller all carved up and roasting in the middle of the compound. So I had a poke round the main building and sure enough this guys got himself a lock up. He must be one hell of a fighter to take
"Well now, I wonder when the mysterious fella will happen in here, Ill let the others know!
The readings done, Ill give you 80 for it!"
"I was thinking more like 120!"
"Right, enough haggling we split the difference!"
"Deal" Emmel Takes the cash and cartridges and stores them in his pack, " One thing before I go, If you see that Pussy ROLF tell him to stay away, I seen him poking around their before and he wouldn't want to run into this fella, he's a real killer." Emmel drifted out of the light and was gone.
——————————
I was woken by the clang of the cell door banging open "What the, How did I get!" then it dawned on me as the memories came flood in, I staggered slightly.
"Pull Yourself together Soldier" "The Capt'n wants to see you. Follow me!"
"What time is it, how long I been out!"
"26 Hours, now lets move!"
So we went up to the next level, the Sergent knocked once and opened the door
"Sir, Prisoner waiting as ordered, Sir.
"Thank you Sergent, send him in, you may wait there!"
I proceeded, in my best parade manner and came to rest in the same place as yesterday.
"Sir, Prisoner reporting as ordered Sir!"
"You Corporal are listed as a deserter and I'm well within my rights to have you executed and I may do just that. You have endangered everyone in this outpost by your dereliction to duty and failure to follow orders. Your little sojourn has caused my position, ability and reputation to be called into question!" Pacing back and forth in front of his desk.
"A reckoning is due, an example must be made. Now here are your options, One you will be shot or two you will be transferred effective immediately to the STALKER military facility inside the exclusion zone where you serve a term of no less than 5 years!" His eyes lit slightly and a smirk plucked the corners of his mouth. "Yes it is essentially a death sentence but who knows, you survived this encounter without backup support or advanced training.
Your choice Corporal, make it now!"
"Sir, I will take the transfer, Sir!"
"That is as well, my superiors are quite impressed with the intelligence you brought back and that you managed to survive at all. They feel that it would have been wasteful to lose the experience you have gained!"
"So you will wait in your quarters under close arrest until your departure is organised, pack your personal effects, you will be issued new equipment at your next assignment!"
Yes Sir, thank you Sir"
"Sargent Take this man to his quarters, close arrest!"
An hour later, my effects packed and I'm sitting on my bunk when my thoughts are interrupted by the steady TWUMP, TWUMP, TWUMP and whine of turbines of a
The Sergent stepped in the door and beckoned, with as much haste as I could muster, I grabbed up my duffel and followed him to the helipad that serviced the Med Facility.
The doorgunner yelled over the roar of the turbines, "Mount up, stow that gear, we're out of here!" I had barely secured my harness when the engine pitch increased violently and the
There was a single soldier waiting when I disembarked, the helicopter took off and flew towards the horizon away from the zone. " You'll be looking for the commander, he's in the HQ in the blockhouse basement in the centre of the compound. There's no signs and no insignia, He's the one with the salt and pepper hair. Hop to it now!"
"KNOCK, KNOCK" on a steel reinforced door, inside a sandbagged trench, 2 meters below ground level in a reinforced concrete wall at the blockhouse.
"Come in, you must be the new guy I'm Stanislaw Catechol, commander"
The man was leaning nonchalantly against a utilitarian desk, of average height and build; the only outstanding features were his salt and pepper hair and an aire of quiet competence. He seemed friendly if not slightly amused.
"Corporal Ivan Krunov, reporting as ordered"
"We run a fairly informal operation here, you can call me Stan"
"Yes Sir"Not knowing what to make of the situation.
"No cut it out, seriously. We're in a combat situation 100% of the time out here, we don't salute or use rank, no insignia and the buildings aren't posted. We don't want to give our enemies targets. You'll soon learn where every thing is and who's who!"
"Yes Stan!"
"Take a seat, I've looked your file and read the statement, it all seems quite incongruous!"
"Pardon, I don't understand" perplexed
"What you haven't heard the rumour" his face creasing in obvious mirth.
"What rumour, I really have no idea what you are talking about!"
"It's spread right across the zone by now. Well it goes something this, a single Military STALKER, out for a bit of target practice wiped out a whole hive of zombies, the figures 40 I think and a bunch of controllers, then barbecued them for good measure. Apparently he's
"But Stan you know the truth, you've read my statement it's not like that!" feeling shaken to the core.
"Yes son I have, but they haven't and they wont. As far as they're concerned WE"RE all one armed supermen. You see, you've already done me a great service, proved to be an asset to this corpse!"