Chapter CXIX: Beaks and Dwarves at the Terminus

 The container warehouse at Jupiter remained as the only bandit stronghold in the northern Zone, partly due to the absence of Duty and Military outposts and partly due to the strong defensive position it provided. Still, between Monolith, free stalkers and whatever horrors arrived from Red Forest, the bandits were often hanging on to dear life at the smallest of margins. Today was no different. Gnom, the right-hand man of the local boss Klenov, had spotted a large group of Zombified shambling towards them from the ventilation complex. What drew these husks to that place was unknown, but sometimes they would divert towards the warehouses.

Gnom took position with his three bandit underlings, the thug leader taking cover in the guard post. Shoddily aimed shots soon rang out from the attacking horde, pellets and bullets alike filling the air. Gnom did not care for these stray threats, instead focusing on steadying his arm. With the enemies in good distance to his AKS-74, he let loose. With atypically accurate fire for a bandit, every pull of his trigger made a mind-lobotimized human fall to the ground. The other bandits were far less lucky. On his left, one of his henchmen took a bullet to the knee, which shattered with a sickening sound followed closely by a wail of anguish from the bandit. His adventuring days are over, Gnom thought to himself and fired again.

Another bandit fell to the remaining six Zombified. Temka Tyrant, the last surviving low-ranking bandit, begun to drag Kiryukha back, but a low, nasal growl coming from the hill to the left of the warehouses stopped him. A pack of snorks were approaching fast. Kiryukha begun to scream even louder, but Temka did not focus on him, he took his sawn-off Mosin and begun to pepper the mutants closing in. Gnom focused on the zombies, but it was looking dire. The husks were so close that even their terrible aim was starting to be a danger. The snorks were inside the warehouses now. Gnom was about to turn his rifle towards the mutants when a shotgun blast struck his LC-suit and threw him backwards.

Kiryukha's screams as he was devoured by the twisted mutants echoed in the air as Gnom begun to slip out of conciousness, but this horrifying sound was joined by a fusillade of gunfire and explosions. Few minutes later, Gnom woke back up to a splash of water on his face. A exohelm stared down at him, but the paintjob on it confused Gnom.

• Oh fuck, Dutyers!, he screamed.

• No, Redemption. Blyat, we need to change our paintjob, the exoskeleton-stalker sighed and helped Gnom up.

• Redemption? What the hell is that?

• Damn, news travel slowly. Oh well. We're a new faction, we stopped the whole Sin madness a month or so ago. You really don't know us?

• I don't have time to track every new damn faction, urod. Last week some new faction popped up at the checkpoint not far from here, and you can count the amount of fucks I give about them with the fingers of one head. Now, what do you want from us?, Gnom questioned angrily.

• Man, we saved your asses and this is what we get. Anyway, here, give this letter to your boss, tell him Shishak sent it, the stalker said and gave Gnom a brown envelope. Only now did the bandit realize that the snorks and zombies were splattered around the warehouses, evidently due to the squad of heavily-armed stalkers at the gate.

• Okay, you guys ain't pussies. I'll take it to Klenov, even though I have no idea what Shishak wants from us. Last time he was here, we told him to never come back and shot him in the ass with 20-gauge.

• I couldn't care less what he wants, just delivering his mail this once. Still, if I was your little bunch, I'd be sweating bullets now. He's the big boss of Dark Valley these days. But anyway, good luck to you, judging by that performance you'll need it, the exostalker said before stomping out in his massive suit.

Gnom looked at the envelope and gulped. Looked like that shot at Shishak's arse would now come to bite them in the ass, in turn. This did not concern Dimuha however, as his duty as a courier was now over. They had come in at the nick of time, too late to save one of the bandits but early enough that the mutants had not turned their attention to others, instead being easy targets for grenade.

• Good job men, one step closer to our goal. Now, to Yanov. And no, Stepukha, don't go emptying Hawaiian's liquor supply, I need you sober tomorrow, Dimuha ordered, smiling placatively to Stepukha.

• Hey, you know I shoot better when drunk, Stepukha growled, but his protests were only met with laughter.

Half an hour later they swung open the doors of Yanov and were met by first friendly faces of the entire journey. Dimuha had asked his friends in Freedom, Arthur Heathen and Grishka Ink, to come to Yanov. They had taken three more Freedomers, Stepa Painter, Borya Boulder and Danila Artist with them. Doctor Oleg Zakarov, long-time friend of Redemption, was with them as well.

• Good to see a friendly face this far north!, Dimuha said, shaking hands with his comrades.

• Same to you, Dimuha. We're just glad we could help, it was thanks to you guys that our victory at Yanov was not for nothing, Grishka replied.

• How was it? I heard it was rough but never exactly how rough, Valik asked.

• Twenty something Monolith veterans. I was manning the tower, and in total there was maybe ten of us here, Stepa explained before continuing:

• Trapper, Loki and Hawaiian all got wounded, Bonesetter ran out of supplies but thanks to the meds Hip brought we held on somehow. We lost three guys. Would've lost a hell of a lot more if Grishka and Arthur hadn't arrived midfight and flanked them. Sukas even shot a rocket at my sniper's nest, blyad.

• Sounds rough. You got the fanatics?, Leva asked.

• Some retreated, others moved to secure the ventilation complex and got lynched by the egghead commandos, Arthur commented with a maleficent grin.

• Well, serves them right. But Dimuha, I remember you mentioning that I needed to check the local liquor selection. Toha, let's get a move on!, Stepukha said playfully.

• I specifically said... Fine, but if I find you drunk tomorrow, I'll give your spot as my lieutenant to Leva, Dimuha groaned.

As Stepukha and Toha raided the local traders for vodka and other adult beverages, Dimuha took Grishka and Zakarov to meet Garry, who was downstairs at the basement. The local guide had agreed with Zakarov to lead them into Pripyat, as the route was perilous and littered with anomalies. Garry told the squad that he would not hang around, which Dimuha agreed with. Grishka asked Dimuha what the Freedomers would do, and Dimuha explained that their main role would be to keep the escape route open. The final plan was nailed down during this meeting with help from Garry, who knew the area best. When sufficiently satisfied with the preparations, the leaders joined their men upstairs once more.

Dimuha gathered his squad around the table near Loki's office and they enjoyed one last full meal before leaving for combat. The earlier cheery athmosphere was gone, everyone focused on their thoughts. Dimuha confiscated Stepukha's vodka, promising to turn them into something far better, and begun to work with a kettle and small travel stove. Leva begun to clean his rifle, Toha started to read Dostojevski's Idiot, Valik started to write a letter, Vova organized his medical kit, Psoglav meditated, Reefer fiddled with his revolver's cylinder and Stepukha stared at Dimuha's work angrily. The situation was peaceful, serene even, with each man, a potent warrior in their own right, focused on their self-assigned task. Eventually Dimuha broke the silence, pouring liquid into small cups and sharing it with the men. Once everyone had a cup, Dimuha shouted for Zakarov to get himself one too.

• What is this?, Leva asked, sniffing the cup and making a disgusted face.

• It's a recipe I learned from Butcher years ago. The Beak, Dimuha replied with a mischievous grin.

• And why are we drinking this?, Zakarov queried in turn.

• Well, this is a drink I have so far only shared with people I consider brothers. It is a drink I enjoy before a decisive battle, we shared it with Vityukha before the Limansk siege. Now, you all have joined me voluntarily, at my darkest hour. Even Psoglav and Reefer, you barely know me but still followed me here.

• And I do not doubt it one second! This is more dangerous than working for Sultan, but at least I feel like a human being, not a lowlife and a punching bag, Reefer said with a warm smile.

• Neither do I. Monolith and Sin abused me, used me as their slave. You allowed me to join you, a pariah given hope. I will never forget it, Psoglav commented as well, nodding to Dimuha.

• And this is why you all now share this drink with me. My two brothers, the two men that led me to finally regain some honour for myself, are now somewhere near oblivion. And you all are helping me save them. So now, let us enjoy this. For Redemption! And for us, brothers!, Dimuha shouted, and tossed the cup's contents down his throat, the others emptying theirs too.

• Jesus Christ that was rough! And good! What is in it?, Reefer yelled, his face redder than a tomato in a thermal anomaly.

• Nemiroff, Moonshine and mutated crow beak. Trust me, you'll feel like a tribal warrior tomorrow, Dimuha laughed, and Zakarov paled a little, looking into his cup before shrugging.

Soon after sharing this last meal and drink together, one after another the squad headed to sleep. When morning rays shone upon the station through thick clouds, Garry led the men of Redemption and Freedom through Jupiter, into the road towards Pripyat. The large apartment blocks appeared in the distance, reaching for the sky. Their original occupants may have left decades ago, leaving the city to the nature to conquer, but much had changed since then. And the things that lurked in those desolate buildings today, hungrily awaited their newest victims. And under the long-lost city, two figures slipped from one laboratory to another, unaware that they would soon receive company of the most unexpected kind.