-Lucky-     

By: Lotis

 

: Far Run

 

    The gentle, yet seemingly somehow violent splash of raindrops hit the roof around his boots, on his shoulders, and on his hood. The sky was deep gray and angry for what seemed like forever, but the air it threw down at him was cool and refreshing.For two days rain had been pouring on the zone. The Stalker walked slowly to the edge of his perch, the roof of some long forgotten soul's home. An inch or so of water had gather up in the street below him. The ancient drains still existed were clogged with leaves and debris. The Stalker realized he was trapped on the roof hours ago. He retraced his thoughts of yesterday, when he was on solid ground looking for mercury balls and galantine. He had been seemingly ambushed by 10, 11, maybe 12 blind dogs while walking down a seemingly empty and lifeless street. He owed his life to a single crow, a single crow that flew in fear when the blind dogs were about to strike. He froze as soon as the bird took flight; he knew someone was wrong, he ran. He ran through pouring rain, for what seemed like a year, but was closer to 30 seconds he guessed. He ran in between two houses and into a small grouping of broken down and naked homes. He jumped onto an overturned car, and then into a tree, he made a leap of faith from the tree to the roof he was on now, which he assumed was also his grave. Now it seemed as though the sky was weeping for his life, for these creatures would undoubtedly consume his life if he left the roof. He felt his pockets. No food, he hadn't eaten in 2 days. He couldn't last long up here. He peered over the edge of the roof and saw the dogs resting on the ground, seemingly asleep. He thought if he could just get down silently he would have a chance. Seconds after this thought however, most of the dogs seemed to peer up at him, it sent a chill up his spine to see over 20 empty sockets staring up at him. The dogs could sense him, whether he was silent or not. He realized he hadn't slept in over 24 hours, and decided the best thing to do was to take a rest before even considering trying to get down. He laid down with his head propped up on his back pack, tipped his hood down to cover his eyes from the rain and closed them until the darkness consumed the horror around him and he fell asleep.

 

: The Awakening

 

    He was abruptly awakened by a thud and a high-pitched yelp. He ran to the edge of his roof to see what had happened. He saw the dogs apparently going insane running around dodging chunks of concrete, bricks, and pieces of wood. He held his hand to his eyes to block the rain and peered across the street. He saw there a small yellow dwarf. The darkness had drawn it out of its underground home and onto the street, where it had apparently met the Stalkers hungry friends. The Dwarf was hurling anything it could find in the area at the dogs, they snipped and barked at the flying objects and tried to understand where they were coming from. One of them finally realized the dwarf was causing the barrage of objects and rushed it, the others quickly followed. The Stalker stole the opportunity and jumped off the opposite side of the roof. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him towards his car, which was about a quarter of a mile down the road. He could hear behind him the dogs barking and the dwarf's disgusting scream as they undoubtedly tore it to pieces. He kept running until he could see his car in the distance. He ran forever, splashing through puddles and ignoring the sting of the rain in his eyes. He got in, turned the key and drove. He drove towards his way out, his zone exit point; this was back towards the evil he had left behind him. He drove down the road as fast as his little Russian car could take him. As he past the old roof and near grave he could see the dogs finishing off what was left of the sickening corpse of the dwarf. He drove on, until he was clear of the zone and into his clan’s camp. He stopped his car just outside of it, turned the key off, sat, and thought. He thought about the past 3 days, the rain that fell from the sky, the dogs that chased him, and the crow that saved his life. He thought about how his entire career as a Stalker was based on luck. He sat and continued to think about it for a long while. He finally got up and out of his car; he walked on through his camp, looking up at some familiar faces as he passed them in the rain. He greeted an old friend and sat down with him under a tent. He told the story of his experience, and how he had survived; cheated death. He took time to include every detail of every moment as to make the story clear to the older man, whose brow was wrinkled with experience. When his story was finished the older Stalker sighed heavily and got up, he walked to the edge of the tent they were under, the old man set his hand on the lucky Stalker's shoulder, then looked up at the dark sky weeping down upon them. The old Stalker smelled the air, then walked off into the rain and disappeared in the fog, leaving the lucky Stalker to his thoughts. The lucky Stalker sat and thought more about how he cheated and won a battle in an unwinnable war against death. He laid down under the tent and decided to get some real sleep, for tomorrow was another day, and the zone would once again become his potential grave as he walked through its veins, that is, unless luck saves his life again. He closed his eyes and decided the hands of luck were what made the zone in the first place. He thought that perhaps tomorrow his good luck would lead him to a decent find, but then again, luck is one of the harder to find anomalies in the zone.