After a two-day walk from the so-called «drop zone», I finally seemed to claim my very goal. But what I found was not what I was supposed to find. It was like an old-fashioned ghost town, like the ones that had been very popular in the western states of the no-longer existing US. I didn’t know why exactly they had split up, but I could remember that there had been some sort of economic crises (like everywhere at that time). The people’s minds had been split up into two major philosophical directions. The first group had said that they should trust in god (like they had always done before — so their money’d said) while the others had talked about seeing reason and taking up the things themselves. The second major group had got stronger and stronger, while the rulers of the US had remained «with god». They hadn’t wanted to lose their power and hand it over to the people. So their only chance had been to blow up the whole American continent. But somehow, not all nuclear rockets had been started, and it had come to the point that only the east coast had got totally destroyed. The ones who had survived died later with extreme pain or had been strongly mutated. The «stalkers» had had their first actions at that time. Their operation was to kill all the mutants, because they had been a threat and a danger to society.

But this ghost town was significant other than the ones in America. The whole situation was much spookier here. This was not in the so-called Wild West, but in the very wilder east. The zone of Chernobyl had been known for human error since 1986. The malfunction (or maximum credible accident) of the nuclear power plant had had very deadly consequences and if the western European states hadn’t recognized it, nobody would have discovered it. Generations of kids who had been born in the later Ukraine had had mental and physical handicaps, some had even been born with cancer or genetic defects. Others «had become» stillbirths or deformed children.

After the Chernobyl-accident, many villages had simply disappeared in the region. Then the nuclear plant had been closed down, even if there were still some voices that wanted to renew and reopen it (like the Russian nuclear inspectorate «Gosatomnadzor», the Ukrainian «NRA» and the Ukrainian nuclear electricity concern «Energoatom» in the late 20^thcentury). But when plans about reopening had got more concrete, voices in the nation had risen up, saying that the plant should get the status of «protection of monuments». But the very corrupt government of the Ukraine easily «had convinced» those voices with some help of bullets. To suppress the growing of the «subversive» opinions (which were against the reopening), the Ukrainian leaders simply installed a military regime. With its help they began doing some research in Chernobyl zone. However, nobody knew what was going on down there. One only knew that it wasn’t simply producing nuclear power anymore. There were some conspiracy theories that stated that the government wanted to control the inhabitants’ minds with a big antenna.

Many people, who had been working around this zone, said that they saw some structure deforming, while others maintained that they had seen zombies or things like that. «Nonsense», I thought first. But then as I sat there on a big stone and looked at the ghost town, I did not know what to believe. At least I didn’t see any sort of religious revelation in this like some of the stalkers. To me, it was just a dialectical change of nature, just a little bit more extreme. Yes, this all was caused by some unknown strong dialectic influence of molecules and dangerous radiation. Only because it is not usual for us, doesn’t mean that it is not natural. I hated this mystifying and idealistic gossip ever since. What for all the good philosophic and scientific achievements if some people speak of God again and again? No, this hadn’t got to do with any god or devil, but with interesting physical irregularities. And I will find out how those came about. I have some psychological suffering, but I’ve ever known that there was no God (it was only a sorry excuse for some things that couldn’t be explained that easily).

Me, I am Dmitri Petrowitsch Spannjew also called «Odinoky Wolk», the lone wolf, 44 years of age, former member of the special military unit «Spetznaz», exiled because of «ideological reasons», suffer from several psychological errors, such as schizophrenia (that means I sometimes cannot distinguish between reality and conceit). It has been my first exploration of the area since I joined a stalker-clan.

After the dissolution of the military regime in 2007 (because of political pressure inside and outside the border), I was one of those completely insane people to find out the secrets of the Chernobyl area, called STALKERS. Some saw themselves as protectors from mutants and rationally inexplicable things. For me, it was just silly talk. But hey, at least it was adventurous — I hoped. It was quite funny, because in the times when I grew up, hope was not worth a rabbit’s fart.

With the regime came many brain washings, and with those, oblivion spread. Because of many political errors and a lack of information, only a few people noted the occurrences in Chernobyl. Some villages that survived after the explosion were said to be attacked by «monsters»... A hermit, who lived in the woods near the nuclear plant somehow survived. He lived in a cave far away from the major road. He seemed very confused and talked some stuff about «changing conditions». I didn’t know what that meant, but I was about to find out. He said that his cave had changed somehow, and that he couldn’t get into it, because the entrance was «too small» for him then. I thought he had just eaten too much... People said that some sort of ghosts of the soldiers of the old regime still «guarded the zone». They thought I’d better watch out. «Nonsense, pure nonsense..." I thought, and I was really sure about this at that time. But I could already feel that something was very unusual here. To think that all these were just stupid stories to shock some children to keep them away from there, gave me some courage.

As I waited for my dealer, who had said he’d gotten «new stuff», I looked around and explored the area. I was quite well equipped. I lit one of my favourite cigarettes to kill time. My ABC-protection suit hung down my arms, while the pants were too tight. I put my hood back, because the sun was shining and I was about to get an overheated head. A gas mask — very useful here, a small pistol and an AK-47 supplemented my equipment. I removed the old magazine, took a new one — reloaded. The cigarette began to have an effect: I got loosen up. As I held the rifle, I could feel the «warmth» of the metal through my suit. It was a good, relaxing feeling. I had had this feeling the last time I touched my last girl friend 10 years ago. No, it wasn’t actually love, but it was... no, it is stupid to love a gun. It was something to hurt or kill a living being, it had no right to be loved. And as I stood there and philosophised with myself, suddenly, and without announcement, very heavy smog got me. It came from nowhere and appeared exactly over the ghost town, and therefore, over me. For god’s sake, I bought a gas mask (90s model) from a dubious dealer. It looked defect, but I hoped it wasn’t. — I spat out the cigarette and put on my gas mask. Nevertheless, it felt like my eyes got green and some sort of sticky substance was touching my face. I closed my eyes, but it didn’t help. Somehow I could still see through my eyelids — as if my eyes used x-rays: the environment was completely distorting around me. I broke down and got unconscious.

When I woke up, I wasn’t in the ghost town anymore. Shiny grey Trees formed a circle around my dead-looking body. My brain felt like exploding because of the headache. A small fear ran over my neck. Pain penetrated my legs, as I wanted to get up. I already knew this feeling. My first action in Spetznaz... Taking some hostile commanders down, anywhere in the Middle East... Easy. Silent. Efficient. That was how we were supposed to operate. But an opponent sergeant, who shot me into my legs, uncovered me. I got him down straight. In our training we were forced to resist any physical damage. Now, the pain was from a completely different origin. Yes, it was the fear. I had never had this feeling before and I hated it. As I managed to stand up, I looked around. Far away, in the distance, I saw a house. I took my new binoculars — yeah, U.S. Marine-style. The house seemed to be ... rusty. Odd...

I felt something touching my shoulder. I turned around smoothly. The tree had changed somehow. It was now bent like a palm tree and one of its branches «touched» my shoulder. I started back, my eyes opened up. That couldn’t be. Where at first stood a single, rusty shack now was an entire settlement. Some houses were complete rots, only one building — it looked like a hospital — seemed to be quite okay. I first thought that my schizophrenia was taking out the Mickey of me again. I ran for the hospital, I ran as fast as I could. I ran because of the fear, and besides I felt like someone was pursuing me. I looked around me shortly one more time. As I looked back to the woods, I could swear I’ve seen a human-looking creature hiding behind a tree. «Your eyes are playing a trick on you», I said to myself, as I didn’t see it anymore. This was crazy. I could remember that the man looked a bit freaky. Maybe one of those handicapped, unconcerned children playing in the woods.

As I reached the hospital, I looked around, searching for some sort of key. I took a look of the building. It stood there like a ruin. I didn’t think of one of those ancient or medieval ruins, but of some sort of post-nuclear one, with a well in front of it. I wouldn’t have drunk this water for millions of dollars (knowing that the dollar wasn’t worth anything anymore). And then — out of nothing — a piece of the roof came down. Just in front of me. This reminded me of the time when I was young. It had been winter and snow was coming off the roof and hit me on the head. Some girls behind me were laughing, but I walked on and acted as if nothing had happened. This time, I wouldn’t have been able to go on so easily. The door seemed to be locked or something. I examined the whole front of the building, but without any result. I still felt pursued and so I looked for the next window to climb through. Some wood boards barricaded it. I pulled them down quickly and jumped in. Inside, the biggest fright was waiting for me. Just a single light bulb was hanging down from the green ceiling, giving just a pale light. On the floor lay dead bodies over and over, tiling the old wooden bottom. I didn’t know how they had got there, but I could easily see that they had been badly slaughtered. At the northern wall there was a sort of altar. It was made of corpses and a wooden, nearly rotten cross (I didn’t know what kind of cross, I had never ever seen such a cross) above it. I doubted my belief in science. Likely my schizophrenia again... At one corpse, I saw an earthworm, which seemed to be bigger than a normal one, eating through it: from the nose, through the brain and out the ear hole. Some blood came out of the corps’ mouth. It didn’t look like normal blood... as well as everything else seemed abnormal. I got on my knees to sniff at the blood. As I had expected. It was a mixture of pus, gastric acid and alcohol. Bacteria were actually working on it. I took a special container and absorbed a little bit of this substance with caution. Maybe it was worth something, maybe it was poisonous — at least I could give it to a scientist to examine it.

I looked for some things I could need, but didn’t find anything, not even a single toilet brush. A staircase in the rear corner caught my eye. I went there cautiously and looked down the staircase. In the cellar it was all dark, waiting for careless guests to come down. For one moment, I thought to see a pair of red eyes, looking at me. A cold shower ran down my back. «Damn schizophrenia», I thought. I began to breathe deeply. «What should I do now!» I asked myself. I decided not to go down the stairs. Suddenly — a loud cry came out of the cellar. It nearly gave me a heart attack. I took charge of my legs, ran through the room and jumped out of the window.

Outside, somebody seemed to wait for me. Seem... That was the word that fitted most in this location. At least I hoped it fitted. Was it real, or just a dream? I didn’t know. Nothing was sure out here. The — hopefully human — one, «who was waiting for me», left his old-style Lada in front of the «hospital». I realized that also this was just an assumption. I started exploring the old, soviet-type car. How could it get here without my noticing the sound of the engine? Ladas were known for being loud and performing little. As I looked at the panel, I recognized the key was in the lock. I called whether somebody was here, but nobody answered. After a while, I heard a «UHHHHH» or so. I looked around. The «child» I had seen before was looking around the corner of another building. I shook my eyes and rubbed my eyes. The «child» was gone — at least it wasn’t here anymore. But it was: I turned around and looked into the eyes of a ZOMBIE! I knew that the «child» wasn’t really normal. It started to hit me in the stomach. I fell on the ground. It rushed at me and tried to bite through my neck. I could hardly get it off me. With a kick into its stomach I managed to throw it off. I stood up quickly and released my rifle. I fired at it from a secure distance until it didn’t move anymore. — I tackled nearer and then, my eyes began to burn. I couldn’t see clearly anymore. I looked at the zombie’s corpse on the ground. Somehow it changed. It distorted and became: my ex-girlfriend! Suddenly I could remember: it was me who had killed her 10 years before. It was in the car, it was an accident — and what was worst: it was my entire fault! She was dead and I suffered from psychological errors since then. My concussion made me forget this event — or had I simply edged it out? All my «friends» said it wasn’t my fault — but how should they have known this? Alcohol is and remains fatal. A flash went through my brain: I «loved» something that killed because I loved somebody I had killed. THAT was the feeling I had felt before. But that was still not all: my «ex-girlfriend» started talking to me. She humbled me, told me that I was a complete idiot. I was totally finished. Then, she seemed to change her mood. She warned me and told me to come back never again. I couldn’t endure it anymore. I ran back to the Lada, opened the door and drove away in fear. It didn’t matter to me where I was driving; I only wanted to get away from there.

After a while, I recognized I had lost my entire orientation — on top of that somewhere in the forest. The road — seemed — to change all the time. But this is not physically possible. I remembered the hermit talking about physical anomalies. Now it was me to be one of its victims. I got tired, and the fuel low. I had my eyes half opened and my concentration was dwindling gradually. Suddenly, the car bumped over something. I braked and got out. Some sort of creature was lying under the right rear tire. I looked at it closely. It was a rat, only twice as large. It still twitched around, and it was losing the game with godfather death. It expelled one all moving cry and died. Then, everywhere all around, many of those «rats» surrounded me. They got nearer and nearer. I reloaded my machine rifle, knowing it wouldn’t help that much. I fired at the rats, but I could not concentrate enough to hit them right. I suggested getting into the car and driving away. I did it. Just still. I drove to a glade, stopped, fell asleep.

The next morning as I woke up, I wasn’t at the glade anymore. I felt like I was in this one-hit-wonder movie «Blair Witch Project», where three youngsters discover «dark magic» in the nearby forest. In the film they said that the environment changed all the time. Back then I didn’t believe that this was true. In the meantime I have changed my opinion... Instead of the glade, I was now in front of some disused rails. The tank was empty and so I decided to go on on foot. I crossed the rails and suddenly, I heard the honk of a train. I looked left and right, but I couldn’t see a thing. I followed the rails over a train bridge and along a left turn to the end of the zone, until I reached the remnants of a jumped off the track train. I explored the completely damaged train driver’s room. I had to have been wrong, because the honk was defect. The train couldn’t make that sound. Some days I wished to have never got up. I must have gone mad... all this was totally insane. I found a newspaper that was lying on the «floor». I checked the date and compared it to that of my watch... It was the same: 12^thApril 2006 — That was the day of the first incident there (at least it was the date the official reports gave to the public). That couldn’t be. Did I hear the honk from 4 years ago? Or was my schizophrenia just playing a trick on me?

I climbed out, put my rifle on my back, grabbed some stones and started throwing them against the wreck of the train. It was relieving somehow, and so I went on and on. I knew that something unusual was happening soon. After a while, you get a feeling for this in the zone. And I was right — because as I continued throwing the stones, they suddenly started to come back — like boomerangs. I shot — the stone flew — stopped in front of the train -came back and hit me in my belly. Oh, that hurt. That was enough for me, and so I began to shout, using bad language. After some time, like somebody mentally ill, I cried, laughed and got down on my knees. I threw up, and with it all the fear and helplessness. I passed out...

I don’t know how, but my favourite Ukrainian dealer, Andrej, found me some hours later. He picked me up and drove me to his home. On the way I told him my story. «Now you know what the people were talking about... you can be lucky to have not met any opponent stalker. Now relax and recover... you will need the power to go back on your mission again», were his first words as we came home. «I don’t know if I want to do this again», I answered. «Jeez, you must be pretty down to say that. Lie down, that will be good for you. You know ol’ comrade Marx said: Matter’s all that matters!» He knew just how to make me laugh.

After some hours, I was totally recovered and back on the way to my stalker-clan meeting.

I was ready to face the unbelievable again...