Chapter CXXIII: Scars of the Zone

 Dry branches crackled as hungry red and yellow flames consumed them, leaving behind only ash and smoke. A log was added into the pile, and the flames rose ever higher. The old church, where the fire had been lit in, soon filled with light, fighting back the darkness of the night. Lone stalker in a exoskeleton undersuit stretched his limbs towards the fire and let out a relaxed sigh. For a moment, he closed his eyes and drifted somewhere far away. But for a mere moment. He soon begun to make a stew of sorts using a military cooking kit, adding in olives, ground garlic, flesh chops, potatoes and pickles. Making such meals in the Zone was always dangerous, as the aroma could attract unknown visitors or mutants, but the stalker's stomach demanded it.

He added in copious amounts of Nemiroff vodka in an effort to stave off most of the radiation that the flesh had gained during its wretched life. As the stew bubbled and steamed, the stalker leaned back once more, emptying the bottle of Nemiroff into a cup and sipping it slowly down.

• Ach, doesn't come close to Mariellenschnaps, that's for sure. Well, hopefully I'll soon be sipping that back home..., Anton pondered out loud, stirring the stew absent-mindedly when a crack of a stick coming from outside startled him.

• Password!, he ordered, pointing his gun at the door.

• Sidorovich..., a familiar voice replied as ordered.

• Is a leech. Come in, Mark. You find the Redemption boys?, Anton asked.

• See for yourself, bratan, the hunter said, stepping into the light, droplets of rain glimmering on his gasmask lenses.

He was followed by a group of men. First came the owner of the church hideout, the enigmatic Tutor, his old trenchcoat concealing his rifle, hanging on his hip. After him in poured the members of Redemption, led by Boris Unforgiven and Dima Lord. Some, like Sanyok, Valik, Dimuha and Vityukha, Anton knew well. Others were unknown to him. He also recognized Reefer, his old adversary from Agroprom, and the two shared a look that said "Small world, isn't it" better than words ever could. There was also Captain Orlov, the Duty old-timer, and Dr. Zakarov, the first ecologist researcher after Kruglov who knew how to not shoot yourself in the foot while handling firearms. Each greeted Anton warmly, even those he did not know that well, and soon the big group of stalkers gathered around the campfire, hungrily eyeing the stew. Only the two mercenaries hanging around the doorframe seemed uncertain, as if not sure whether to join in or hang back.

• Alright, alright, I can see you're hungry. Dig in, friends, it's not like I was going to eat it myself, Anton said, surrendering his meal, which everyone now stole a bit of.

As the group devoured the feast, Anton begun to prepare more as he knew his current cookings would not last for long. As he did so, he and Mark chatted with Dimuha and Boris, the two Redemption leaders explaining to them exactly what had happened during the last months. The two mercenaries joined the group eventually, and even though at first they declined the meal, Valik persisted on it and finally they accepted a plate. The two of them seemed quite hesitant at first, but after tasting a few bites the contents of the plate disappeared in seconds.

• How the hell did you make this? My grandma couldn't make this good a meal!, Dimka asked.

• Trade secrets, I'm afraid. Still, a big part comes from Mark's skills too. Anyone can hunt a flesh, but Mark knows from one look which one tastes the best and is the cleanest, Anton replied.

• Cleanest?, Sevka continued, raising his eyebrow.

• Yeah, this one time we had a flesh cooking on the fire when I saw a tapeworm the length of a car squeeze its way out of the pig's nostril. It tried to crawl towards us, but Toha managed to shoot it, Reefer explained, making the two mercenaries spat out their food as members of Redemption laughed.

• He's joking, you idiots. By clean I meant radiation, of course, Anton said, grinning.

The mercs chuckled at it thus, clearly relaxing slightly. The campfire surroundings soon became filled with chatter and laughter as everyone caught up on the happenings of Redemption and the Zone, told each other the latest jokes and campfire tales and simply enjoyed the moment of peace. Boris enjoyed the moment as well, seeing his faction still thrive despite the hardships they had encountered. Dimuha poked him into the shoulder, passing him two green bottles of Ukrainian Cossacks beer, Boris' favourite. Boris took the gladly, having last had one the first week in the void. Opening the bottle, he stood upright and raised it.

• Brothers. Friends. New comrades-in-arms. Redemption, our faction, has suffered, bled and fought like furies during the last few months. Dimuha has shown to be a great leader despite the unexpected circumstances thrown at him, and each and every one of you can be proud of your achievements. But let us not forget the brothers we lost. Remember them, mourn them, forget not their sacrifices. Gain strength from it, Boris spoke, raising his bottle as a toast, the rest of the group raising theirs as well.

• To Venya!, Dima shouted.

• To Gleb!, Valik joined.

• To Micha!, Stepukha yelled.

And thus it went, names of lost comrades raising to the lips of the group, from Anton Antipin to Mihas Killer to Seryoga Stunt. All comrades lost, no matter which faction they belonged to. Tutor, the enigmatic hermit living in this church far away from all other stalkers, seemed to follow the situation with interest, his grey and white eyes darting from one speaker to another. Boris observed him while taking sips from his bottle. Something about the man was familiar, as if he had seen pictures of the lone rifleman before. Tutor met his eye, and nodded. And then it clicked inside Boris' head, but he held his tongue, for now. The mercenaries that had tagged along unvoluntarily also seemed quite taken aback by this ceremony, as if they had not seen something like it before.

As the final name was said, belonging to Edik Armorer, the group relaxed once more. Perhaps it was the gulps of alcohol taken to honour the dead or the sense of camradery that such rituals evoked in them that caused such relaxation. Soon, the group was abuzz with chatter again. Boris rose up and walked to Tutor, sitting next to the old stalker. The hooded hermit was smoking a pipe, with a smell coming from it that reminded Boris of marshlands. Tutor looked at Boris and nodded towards Redemption.

• I've spent many years in the Zone, far too many to be honest. Your men, they're quite odd bunch. Usually I see broken men, people just wanting to get by, find some artefacts and get out. Even ideologically strong faction like Duty and Freedom rarely have this kind of energy. I've seen it only once outside of Monolith, the stalker said.

• Yes, they are quite something. They all believe we are doing the right thing in a place that always just feels wrong, Boris replied, staring at the fire.

• Yes. And you may think it is a good thing. That you have found something, something worth fighting for. Unforgiven, I will say this as a friendly warning. What you are doing is exceedingly dangerous!, Tutor said with a stern tone, catching Boris completely off-guard.

• What!? We are doing what we do because no one else will, Boris retaliated, but Tutor made a placative gesture with his right hand to get Boris to calm down.

• You know who I am? I saw your expression, I know you do. Yes, you were right on that. And that alone should make you listen, boy. I saw this once before. With Clear Sky. Enthusiastic, energetic, idealistic men, thinking they could change the Zone. And what did happened?, Tutor asked.

• Destroyed their faction? But that was because of..., Boris tried to explain, but was cut off.

• Silence. It was because they did not understand what they were prodding. I did not understand what we were prodding. We struck the hornet queen and expected the hornets to allow us to leave their nest. You have done this already as well, haven't you? You helped Strelok get into the plant again, and what did it get?, Tutor asked, angrily this time.

• We stopped Sin, Dima, having joined the conversation, said. Boris had not realized that the others had noticed their arguing and turned to listen.

• You stopped Sin, yes. For now. And released some unknown horrors onto the Zone. Opened its wounds, letting the filth out into the world once more. I don't doubt your heroism, Redemption, things would be much worse if you had not acted. But you must realize that the Zone does not take kindly to those that attack it. The further you fight it, the more it fights back.

• Are you referring to the theory that the Zone is like a body of sorts, a living being fighting us, a virus of sorts?, Sanyok questioned.

• Yes. I witnessed it myself. Far too many times. And paid the price, albeit different than I initially thought. First in the Clear Sky raid, then when Marked One attacked, Tutor replied, sighing as he tossed another log into the fire.

• Who the hell is this guy then? Sounds delusional to me, Reefer commented.

• When I still fought for the Monolith, they called me Tutor. But before, they knew me as Scar, the stalker answered, and everyone but Boris looked at each other in confusion.

• But Scar is dead, he burned with the emission at CNPP, Orlov pondered out loud.

• And you fought for the Monolith? What?, Valik queried in turn.

• I, like many others in that raid, was turned into C-Conciousness' flesh-puppet. I survived the emission like I did the two earlier ones, Lebedev thought the next one would kill me but he was wrong. I wasn't turned into a Zombified, I became a warrior of Monolith after they found me, stitched me back together and brainwashed me. I served as a guard at the Old Road X-15 laboratory, then was sent to protect the Generators. One day we were patrolling here at the North Hills, when a group of stalkers known as Druids ambushed us, and took me to their camp after I was badly wounded, Scar explained, melancholy in his voice.

• Who the hell are Druids?, Toha asked, but Scar brushed the question aside.

• Story for another time. Anyway, the Druids had some way of shaking the brainwashing from a stalker, I don't remember any of it to this day. I woke up one day here in this church, only my gun with me. That was two years ago. I do not know what happened to the Druids, I do not know how long it took for the brainwashing to lift or how long I served the Monolith.

• What have you been doing since then?, came a question from Leva.

• Lived here. This area is really distant, at times there may be Monolith troops passing by, sometimes a Sin patrol, sometimes nihilists, but for the most parts this is the most hidden area in the Zone.

• Why help us then? Why bring us to your hideout, hide us from the Monolith, help us if we are so dangerous?, Boris asked.

• Because you may be dangerously idealistic, but you are also needed. You, Boris, and your men, have managed to focus on things beyond just faction squabbles and skirmishes. You did stop Sin after all, even if the Zone is more unstable than ever. And there are new threats in the horizon, many threats. You are needed more than ever, but somebody needed to smack some sense into those thick and young heads of yours. So listen, Scar said, in a deep voice, before continuing:

• I made a mistake once, alongside Clear Sky. It was because we did not know any better. Do not make the same mistake, do not fall for the same trap. When you fight the different lunatics or powerhungry assholes of the Zone, do not threaten the Zone or it will retaliate. And most importantly, do not let your enthusiasm lead you astray. The Zone is more dangerous than ever, and the factions are still at each others' throats. Somebody needs to keep at least a shred of balance.

• But there is only so much we can do alone. How are we supposed to stop the Zone's rapid destabilization alone, we were stretched thin as hell the last time and Boris almost lost his life, Sanyok asked.

• And for that, you need allies that understand the dangers just like you do now. A faction that know how to not tear open the Zone's scars. Luckily for you, I may know just the faction for that, Scar said, breathing out a last cloud of smoke from his pipe and giving the group a cunning smile.