Chapter LVI: Unforeseen Consequences

 A black smoketrail rose up to the now blue sky, contrasting the white clouds hanging low over the Garbage. With it, it carried a smell of charred flesh and burning embers. Near the Flea Market, two men stared at the source of it, both rookie loners barely over twenty years in age. From afar, Boris, Dima and the accompanying bandits could see a look of horror on their faces. The bandits gripped their weapons tighter when they saw the stalkers, but a furious glance from Boris made them lower them. Enough blood had been shed already today.

The two rookies barely noticed the newcomers, and soon Boris understood why. A pile of corpses had been tossed into a small dugout, most of them in Sunrise suits, leather jackets or trenchcoat, almost all shot in the head. Someone had tried to burn the bodies, a few jugs of gasoline were still hanging about. But most of the bodies had survived, and Boris could recognize multiple Clear Sky, loner, bandit and even mercenary patches among the dead. There were even patches Boris did not recognize, ones with two shovels and a pickaxe.

• What the hell have they done, Dima exclaimed, full of disgust and disbelief.

• I told you those guys were absolute psychopaths, Trenchcoat said, similarly horrified, and continued:

• That major of theirs killed most of these guys, many had tried to surrender when the Flea Market got smashed, but he just kept shooting. Now, army is always brutal, but this guy had lost all the screws. If someone deserves to get zombified, then him.

• I doubt our actions no more, Boris. We might have to kill to survive too, but at least we don't slaughter those that surrender, Dima said, and Boris grunted approvingly. This particular army detachment had deserved no mercy. Had they let them in the Depot, they would already be dead.

• Let us bury the dead. Mister Trenchcoat, will you guys help us?, Boris asked, and the bandit nodded.

• We might not get along with loners, and I've seen my comrades do some inhumane stuff in the past, but this is disgusting. There are our brothers in that hole as well.

• Damn, never thought I'd bury my friends with a bandit, one of the loners muttered.

• Don't worry, I didn't plan on this either. But if the Zone has taught me anything, it's that you never know what the consequences of something might happen to be, Trenchcoat replied, and the rookie nodded approvingly.

They started working on filling the hole with whatever tools they found. Spades and shovels slowly filled the mass grave, bandits, loners and Redeemed working together to perform this last favour to fallen comrades. While they worked, the loners introduced themselves as Vanya Pilgrim and Boghdan Sparks. Trenchcoat revealed that his name was Tooth, and he had years ago worked here as a bandit trader until Poker, an amnesiac bandit, murdered Yoga by the orders of Borov. Ever since he had stayed as an outcast with his friends, Kostya Vandal and Tima Rogue.

The sun started its journey towards to the horizon. The grave was now ready, and Boris stuck a primitive plank cross on it with a respirator system tied to it. The group stood next to it for a few minutes in silence. Boris said a small prayer to the fallen and the loners followed suit. Everyone headed to the Flea Market to drink for the lost ones, until they'd head out.

As they sat next to a fire, Boris opened a bottle of fine Ukrainian beer, his favourite. Dima lit a Soviet-era cigarette while the loners shared a bottle of Nemiroff. The bandits meanwhile had bottles of Cossacks vodka, made from the finest Zone-produced potatoes. It was rapidly becoming a rarity, ever since the company producing it was shut down. There was hope for it in the future possible, with a new company by the same name about to release a new and improved Cossacks 2.

Tooth and Boris were chatting about the current situation in the Zone and especially the Redemption, Tooth seemed rather interested of the new faction. Dima was meanwhile entertaining the rookies and Tooth's companions with the story of battle for Pripyat. Tooth told Boris all sorts of things about the time of Yoga, even some tales about Scar. Boris meanwhile told pretty much the entirety of his story, as despite the somewhat rough nature of tooth, he couldn't not like the old smuggler. The light was growing dimmer, the campfire being fed more wood to keep the Flea Market well lit.

• I think we need to get going soon, but Tooth. If you ever want to return to your trader roots, the Redemption may have something along those lines. We operate on a different set of morals than the bandits, and are pretty strict on them, but we're all former criminals, I dare say living with us is better than under the next big warlord thug, Boris offered. Tooth gave him a slight smile and said he'd think about it. He liked the idea of Redemption, he had seen enough bandits gamble, drink or drug themselves into getting killed.

Boris thanked him for the last time and also offered some advice to the two rookies, telling them to head to Rostok and find Anton Anomaly there, he'd give them solid jobs for sure. Once this was done, he and Dima left the campfire. They marched from Garbage to Dark Valley through the narrow pathways, crossing streams and avoiding clusters of anomalies. After travelling for some hours they came to a camp at the very edge of Dark Valley, darkness having settled on the Zone for the night.

• Now to find that Artist guy, Dima muttered, as started moving towards the pigfarm. Gunshots echoed in the night, and from time to time they could hear some beast howl in the distance, often lurkers or those new volks. A small campfire glimmered in the night like a star in the sky, and the pair decided to approach it through a collapsed part in the wall.

Two Freedom experts were enjoying a simple meal around it, flesh chops by the looks, and the pair holstered their weapons, approaching the Freedomers slowly.

• Good evening to you, bros, care to tell us who you are and what faction you belong to so we know whether to offer you a blunt or hot lead, one of the Freedomers asked in a friendly but cautious tone.

• Boris Unforgiven and Dima Lord, leaders of the Redemption faction. I don't smoke, but Dima here could sure use spare cigs if you have one. Either of you called Danya Artist?, Boris asked, answering similarly with a friendly and laid back tone.

• I am, what's it about, the other Freedomer replied, and Boris gave him the package. The Freedomer's eyes lit up.

• Oh yeah, finally Semyon sent these up, I've been waiting for months, Danya said, opening the package. It was full of old movies, Westerns, action movies, sci-fi flicks etc. Boris raised his eyebrow to this, and Danya explained himself.

• So we got a VHS player working in the base, I think the original base commadant used it for, ahem, home videos, and no one really wanted to see those so I asked Semyon to send me some actual proper movies.

• I see. You guys should put a movie theatre then, Dima suggested, and Danya nodded enthusiastically. Boris sat down next to the fire while Dima lit the old Soviet cigarette given to him by the other Freedomer, Matvei Bayonet. In the night, even more shots were fired, sometimes combined with the sounds of mutants, other times by the screams of dying humans.

• Any idea what's going on in there?, Boris queried, pointing towards the bandit base with his thumb. Matvei shrugged, but Danya was a bit more talkative:

• Bandits have been tearing each other apart the past day. Ever since Sultan was killed, all pretense of hierarchy and order was lost and everyone started collecting old loans or settling grievances the way the bandits know the best.We left the main camp then, but it seemed like the situation was only getting worse. Olivius is of course doing his best, but there are talks of some old bandit warlords heading towards Dark Valley with haste to fill the spot. Shishak and Jack, for example.

• Well, ain't that a pickle. Wouldn't mind seeing those shitstains collapse all together, Dima muttered, prompting an agreeing amused grunt from Matvei.

• Welp, thank you two for the info, but I think me and Dima really need to get going. Crossing the Truck Cemetery at night isn't fun but I'd rather go there than stay with trigger-happy bandits, I think I might still owe cash to some of them and I don't intend to repay it, Boris said with a grin, and the Freedomers chuckled. Dima rose up as well.

• Well, if you're heading there, stop by at Wild Napr's camp. He asked me to stop by to help him with something, but we're heading to Wild Territory. You guys seem like you could handle the issue though. Wild Napr's this permanently dirty fellow, he's probably in the trash hills of Truck Cemetery, Danya told the Redeemed, and Boris nodded. They'd go by the camp anyway, maybe helping would buy them a free meal.

The two Redemption members disappeared back into the night, and as the Freedomers added firewood to the fire, the moon came out of the clouds to light the way of the two travellers. While Boris was still shook by the events of the day, he felt good to travel once more. The south has seen some unexpected things today, both in the state of anarchy in the bandit faction and the absolutely unforeseen event of truce between Garbage's residents. Yet such was the nature of the Zone, and Boris was intrigued to see more of these strange phenomena as they continued. The road called him, and he answered.A black smoketrail rose up to the now blue sky, contrasting the white clouds hanging low over the Garbage. With it, it carried a smell of charred flesh and burning embers. Near the Flea Market, two men stared at the source of it, both rookie loners barely over twenty years in age. From afar, Boris, Dima and the accompanying bandits could see a look of horror on their faces. The bandits gripped their weapons tighter when they saw the stalkers, but a furious glance from Boris made them lower them. Enough blood had been shed already today.

The two rookies barely noticed the newcomers, and soon Boris understood why. A pile of corpses had been tossed into a small dugout, most of them in Sunrise suits, leather jackets or trenchcoat, almost all shot in the head. Someone had tried to burn the bodies, a few jugs of gasoline were still hanging about. But most of the bodies had survived, and Boris could recognize multiple Clear Sky, loner, bandit and even mercenary patches among the dead. There were even patches Boris did not recognize, ones with two shovels and a pickaxe.

• What the hell have they done, Dima exclaimed, full of disgust and disbelief.

• I told you those guys were absolute psychopaths, Trenchcoat said, similarly horrified, and continued:

• That major of theirs killed most of these guys, many had tried to surrender when the Flea Market got smashed, but he just kept shooting. Now, army is always brutal, but this guy had lost all the screws. If someone deserves to get zombified, then him.

• I doubt our actions no more, Boris. We might have to kill to survive too, but at least we don't slaughter those that surrender, Dima said, and Boris grunted approvingly. This particular army detachment had deserved no mercy. Had they let them in the Depot, they would already be dead.

• Let us bury the dead. Mister Trenchcoat, will you guys help us?, Boris asked, and the bandit nodded.

• We might not get along with loners, and I've seen my comrades do some inhumane stuff in the past, but this is disgusting. There are our brothers in that hole as well.

• Damn, never thought I'd bury my friends with a bandit, one of the loners muttered.

• Don't worry, I didn't plan on this either. But if the Zone has taught me anything, it's that you never know what the consequences of something might happen to be, Trenchcoat replied, and the rookie nodded approvingly.

They started working on filling the hole with whatever tools they found. Spades and shovels slowly filled the mass grave, bandits, loners and Redeemed working together to perform this last favour to fallen comrades. While they worked, the loners introduced themselves as Vanya Pilgrim and Boghdan Sparks. Trenchcoat revealed that his name was Tooth, and he had years ago worked here as a bandit trader until Poker, an amnesiac bandit, murdered Yoga by the orders of Borov. Ever since he had stayed as an outcast with his friends, Kostya Vandal and Tima Rogue.

The sun started its journey towards to the horizon. The grave was now ready, and Boris stuck a primitive plank cross on it with a respirator system tied to it. The group stood next to it for a few minutes in silence. Boris said a small prayer to the fallen and the loners followed suit. Everyone headed to the Flea Market to drink for the lost ones, until they'd head out.

As they sat next to a fire, Boris opened a bottle of fine Ukrainian beer, his favourite. Dima lit a Soviet-era cigarette while the loners shared a bottle of Nemiroff. The bandits meanwhile had bottles of Cossacks vodka, made from the finest Zone-produced potatoes. It was rapidly becoming a rarity, ever since the company producing it was shut down. There was hope for it in the future possible, with a new company by the same name about to release a new and improved Cossacks 2.

Tooth and Boris were chatting about the current situation in the Zone and especially the Redemption, Tooth seemed rather interested of the new faction. Dima was meanwhile entertaining the rookies and Tooth's companions with the story of battle for Pripyat. Tooth told Boris all sorts of things about the time of Yoga, even some tales about Scar. Boris meanwhile told pretty much the entirety of his story, as despite the somewhat rough nature of tooth, he couldn't not like the old smuggler. The light was growing dimmer, the campfire being fed more wood to keep the Flea Market well lit.

• I think we need to get going soon, but Tooth. If you ever want to return to your trader roots, the Redemption may have something along those lines. We operate on a different set of morals than the bandits, and are pretty strict on them, but we're all former criminals, I dare say living with us is better than under the next big warlord thug, Boris offered. Tooth gave him a slight smile and said he'd think about it. He liked the idea of Redemption, he had seen enough bandits gamble, drink or drug themselves into getting killed.

Boris thanked him for the last time and also offered some advice to the two rookies, telling them to head to Rostok and find Anton Anomaly there, he'd give them solid jobs for sure. Once this was done, he and Dima left the campfire. They marched from Garbage to Dark Valley through the narrow pathways, crossing streams and avoiding clusters of anomalies. After travelling for some hours they came to a camp at the very edge of Dark Valley, darkness having settled on the Zone for the night.

• Now to find that Artist guy, Dima muttered, as started moving towards the pigfarm. Gunshots echoed in the night, and from time to time they could hear some beast howl in the distance, often lurkers or those new volks. A small campfire glimmered in the night like a star in the sky, and the pair decided to approach it through a collapsed part in the wall.

Two Freedom experts were enjoying a simple meal around it, flesh chops by the looks, and the pair holstered their weapons, approaching the Freedomers slowly.

• Good evening to you, bros, care to tell us who you are and what faction you belong to so we know whether to offer you a blunt or hot lead, one of the Freedomers asked in a friendly but cautious tone.

• Boris Unforgiven and Dima Lord, leaders of the Redemption faction. I don't smoke, but Dima here could sure use spare cigs if you have one. Either of you called Danya Artist?, Boris asked, answering similarly with a friendly and laid back tone.

• I am, what's it about, the other Freedomer replied, and Boris gave him the package. The Freedomer's eyes lit up.

• Oh yeah, finally Semyon sent these up, I've been waiting for months, Danya said, opening the package. It was full of old movies, Westerns, action movies, sci-fi flicks etc. Boris raised his eyebrow to this, and Danya explained himself.

• So we got a VHS player working in the base, I think the original base commadant used it for, ahem, home videos, and no one really wanted to see those so I asked Semyon to send me some actual proper movies.

• I see. You guys should put a movie theatre then, Dima suggested, and Danya nodded enthusiastically. Boris sat down next to the fire while Dima lit the old Soviet cigarette given to him by the other Freedomer, Matvei Bayonet. In the night, even more shots were fired, sometimes combined with the sounds of mutants, other times by the screams of dying humans.

• Any idea what's going on in there?, Boris queried, pointing towards the bandit base with his thumb. Matvei shrugged, but Danya was a bit more talkative:

• Bandits have been tearing each other apart the past day. Ever since Sultan was killed, all pretense of hierarchy and order was lost and everyone started collecting old loans or settling grievances the way the bandits know the best.We left the main camp then, but it seemed like the situation was only getting worse. Olivius is of course doing his best, but there are talks of some old bandit warlords heading towards Dark Valley with haste to fill the spot. Shishak and Jack, for example.

• Well, ain't that a pickle. Wouldn't mind seeing those shitstains collapse all together, Dima muttered, prompting an agreeing amused grunt from Matvei.

• Welp, thank you two for the info, but I think me and Dima really need to get going. Crossing the Truck Cemetery at night isn't fun but I'd rather go there than stay with trigger-happy bandits, I think I might still owe cash to some of them and I don't intend to repay it, Boris said with a grin, and the Freedomers chuckled. Dima rose up as well.

• Well, if you're heading there, stop by at Wild Napr's camp. He asked me to stop by to help him with something, but we're heading to Wild Territory. You guys seem like you could handle the issue though. Wild Napr's this permanently dirty fellow, he's probably in the trash hills of Truck Cemetery, Danya told the Redeemed, and Boris nodded. They'd go by the camp anyway, maybe helping would buy them a free meal.

The two Redemption members disappeared back into the night, and as the Freedomers added firewood to the fire, the moon came out of the clouds to light the way of the two travellers. While Boris was still shook by the events of the day, he felt good to travel once more. The south has seen some unexpected things today, both in the state of anarchy in the bandit faction and the absolutely unforeseen event of truce between Garbage's residents. Yet such was the nature of the Zone, and Boris was intrigued to see more of these strange phenomena as they continued. The road called him, and he answered.