Chapter CXXIX: Big Plans, Bad News

The swamplands gave off the damp smell of decomposition and stale water. Amidst the reeds, the regular thumping of boots was contrasted by the continuous crackling of a Geiger counter. The steam set off from the Boiler anomaly field condensed on Boris' MASKA helmet's gasmask lenses, fogging up his vision as he, Dima and Sanyok marched onwards. They avoided the water-filled spots, both to avoid radiation and sinking into a watery, marshy grave. Stalkers often disappeared in these swamps, and it was not only mutants and anomalies that caused it.

The rusted hulk of a ship lay in a cove far ahead, inviting the weary travellers to its warm and safe haven. The mood of the trio was quite silent, they were tired and deep in their thoughts. Boris could practically hear the ponderings of his companions. After saying goodbyes to Anton and Mark, they all wondered what would come of them. Was there a similar tranquil ending to them, or would they meet their fate at the bottom of some unmarked ditch, hole in the back of the skull after a failed raid? Boris had brushed the thoughts aside himself. The second he became a renegade, hell, the second he had been captured by bandits in Red Forest, every second alive was a gift. When a man has nothing, he'll make the time alive his, and his alone. Even in the stale bog air, drenched in rancid swamp water.

Dima was next to cheer up as well, and lit a cigarette he had stolen off Toha. The Skadovsk was in sight, and it would be enough for now. Sanyok, sensing the mood of his two companions improve, lightened up a tad as well. Dima exhaled a cloud of smoke and sighed.

• Man, I know this place is a shithole, but damn if it feels good to be back in the Zone. I was almost running out of jokes in that void, Dima commented.

• I wish you had... Those baby and dog jokes still haunt me to this day, Sanyok muttered, shuddering.

• You softskin... Hey Boris, mind if you open up that plan of yours a bit? We're planning to set up shop in the north?, Dima asked while Boris was trying to force his boot out of the swamp that was now gripping it like a living being.

• Fucking bog... Yes, I can. But over drinks, at Skadovsk. I want a bottle of beer in my hand and a plate of flesh bacon in the other before I can function properly, Boris replied, finally getting free.

Dima nodded enthusiastically, and the trio continued on, the Geiger counter slowing down as they closed on the ship. Boris observed a strange formation of anomalies near Skadovsk, up the hill before the overlook. It was like clouds of green dots, circling around, hissing and snarling. There was roughly a dozen of them, and they seemed to be chemical in nature. To avoid a particularly big body of water and chunks of unstable marshland, they passed nearby the anomaly field. And suddenly, it felt like they were wading in the deepest part of the swamp, as if the air itself had turned into a puddle of putrid water and sludge. Boris turned up most of his suit's energy to servomotors, shutting down auxiliary systems temporarily in exchange for mobility, but it did nothing.

• Keep moving fellas! The Green Dragon slows down your movement, but you just need to pull through. And avoid the green spots, at best they burn your armour, at worst they will infect you with a disease. We already had one outbreak, bring another here and you'll be swimming with the fishes!, a guard on the railing of Skadovsk shouted to them.

• Swimming with the fishes? This reminds me of a particular Monolith warrior..., Dima started, but Boris gave him a very silencing and furious glance, shutting him up.

• Let me guess, he went overboard with the puns?, Sanyok asked from Boris.

• Yes. The Pun massacre of 2018, no survivors, only pain. Hip came this close to shooting him, Boris replied, holding two fingers mere millimetres apart.

Sanyok chuckled as they finally made it outside of the slowing effects of the anomaly field. Boris looked back at the field and wondered how many more surprises the Zone had in store for them. New mutants, new anomalies... What next? New weather patterns to rival emissions and psi-storms... Blyat, he thought, but his mood brightened as he swung open the rusty door of the massive ship that was Skadovsk. The bar was hazy from cigarette smoke, it smelled like sweat, alcohol and rust, but it was safe. Beard, the local trader and barkeep, smiled wide from behind his counter, his grizzly-esque beard giving way to a mighty set of teeth.

• The man himself, as that rat Sultan used to say! Welcome in, Boris Unforgiven, been a long time since your gang was seen up here, Beard shouted, and the rowdy mood inside the bar quieted down for a second as everyone turned to face the newcomers.

Boris' hulky Absolver armour whirred and hissed as he marched up to the counter and shook the barkeeper's hand warmly. He raised his helmet up and smiled in return.

• Been too long, Beard. How's business? Owl giving you trouble as always?, Boris asked cheerfully, as the phrase "Spill the beans or take a hike" came from upstairs, directed at some unfortunate rookie.

• Slow. The anomalous zones that usually block access to many places in the north have shifted. There's North Hills between us and the route to Pripyat now, Outpost between us and the Hospital, Chernobyl-1 is also open and that bastard, Stepanych, has set up shop there. People are trying their hardest to reach those new areas. Some stalkers found Chernobyl-1 the first, after wandering for a long time in Red Forest and getting lost. More followed. Now, Skadovsk is closer to Cordon, a sort of safe haven between dangerous Zones. And the days somebody brings good loot to me are becoming rarer, Beard explained, sadness in his voice now.

• Chyort, that's rough. Well, allow me to help your business a bit, Boris said, placing a stack of rubles on the counter and ordering for his squad.

Minutes later, Beard brought them steaming plates of flesh bacon, imported assortment of vegetables and potatoes alongside vodka and beer. The three Redeemed enjoyed the meal while discussing the future plans for Redemption. Boris explained that he wanted to build a new base for the faction up north, as it was clear a lot was going to happen there soon enough. Dima proposed that they try to capture the Jupiter factory, but Sanyok said it was too eerie and hard to hold with their numbers. He in turn advertized the Ranger Station, but Boris claimed it was too close to Zaton. Krug Antenna complex was also thought over, but it suffered from bloodsucker infestations.

• What if we move into some of those new areas then? Try to seize operations in Chernobyl-1 or Outpost? I have no idea what they have in store, but they seem less crowded than these old Zones, Sanyok offered.

• Perhaps. We'll need to convene on this with the other leaders and perhaps the men too. This seems rough, but Meadow alone will probably not suffice..., Boris sighed, chasing the last droplets from his beer bottle.

• Well, nothing we can do about it until we reach Jupiter I guess. I bet Dimuha and Vityukha are lazing off at the checkpoint right now, Dima scoffed.

• After pulling off that stunt with the rescue operation, Dimuha deserves a few days off, to be honest, Boris remarked.

Dima nodded and the conversation trailed off into trivial matters, the quality of food and the emptiness of the bar, sudden bursts of laugher at Owl's grumpy growls from upstairs and eavesdropping on Gonta's stories. Once Sanyok finished his plate, he suggested that they check out Nimble's wares, and Boris agreed, it wasn't every day you'd get to check the rare stock the ex-Clear Sky member had. They headed upstairs and sat into Nimble's office as the trader was dozing off. Boris patted him slightly to wake the heavy sleeper, and Nimble woke up with a yawn, stretching his arms and looking at the trio drowzily.

• Oh, Redemption. Cool, haven't seen you guys yet. I heard you set up a competitor for me? No bad blood, the south needs a trader too and Hip deserves something good for her after bringing us the aid we needed. But what are you looking for, stalkers? May I interest you in a Steppe Eagle or Artefact Hunter suit? Perhaps a WA 2000 for your troubles coming up all this way to the north?, Nimble advertized, pointing at the massive amount of wares next to him.

There were so many different things, from puny Walther PPKs to massive Barrett M95 rifles, bullpup Saiga prototypes, rare Clear Sky armours, optics Boris had never seen before and heavily modified weapons from left to right. Sanyok found something that immediately caught his eye, pointing at a strange combination of a Berill armoured suit and SEVA scientific suit.

• What is that? Looks like one of those ankward Hybrid suit but much better made, he asked.

• That is from one of my old associates, a Finnish stalker I sold it years ago. I called it the Hybrid Alpha back then, it is basically a Hybrid heavily modified by Novikov, a damn fine piece of gear. You can have it for the low low price of 150 000 roubles, Nimble said slyly.

• One-fifty... Goddamn, I'll take it. This damn Sunset suit is atrocious and I want me something that can actually stop a tushkano scratch without melting the second I enter an anomaly field, Sanyok said, pulling out his wallet and paying the trader.

• Always good doing business with ya. Spleen can paint it in Redemption colour, he got some leftover paint from Duty squad earlier, Nimble chuckled.

• No thanks, we got a new camo scheme in mind. But I could get myself one thing here... How much is that longslide?, Boris asked, pointing at a sleek chrome-coloured pistol with a sight and suppressor.

• Oh, a Korth? Hundred thousand, those are rarer than a merc with a moral compass, Nimble remarked.

Boris bought the pistol, wincing at the sight of his large stack of rubles turning into a mere few bills, but holstering his new automatic did feel good. Sanyok packed his Sunset suit and Dima prodded them to leave Skadovsk and head for Jupiter already, he was eager to get out of the swamp air. Boris agreed, but just as they were about to leave, Gonta stopped them.

• I know you're a busy man, Boris, but there's something us Hunters might need your faction's help with, I know you folk want to help stalkers as much as you can, the hunter leader said in a serious tone.

• We do, it's our main principle. What is it?, Boris replied.

• People have been disappering as of late, and I don't mean like leaving to the new areas. Something is off here, I lost one of my most seasoned hunters last week and a couple experienced stalkers from Petruha's gang went missing as well. I was in contact with Trapper and Cashier and similar thing is happening in Jupiter and Outskirts as well. Usually you find at least a corpse or something, but not here.

• You think it is a mutant or something?

• I'm not sure. But I would sure like some help finding out, Gonta answered, but a beep of a PDA interrupted him from continuing.

• It'll have to wait, I'm afraid... Our squad in Jupiter has been attacked by unknown force, and the checkpoint is in ruins. Valik says he isn't sure if Vityukha or Dimuha are alive!, Boris said in a grim tone.

• Fuck... We gotta move, fast, this dillydallying was a mistake, Dima cursed, and Boris nodded.

As the three Redemption leaders went on a springting march towards Jupiter, the sky begun pouring rain over the desolate hellscape of the Zone. Near the tunnels of the Claw anomaly, a hunter was butchering his prey, a young flesh. As droplets begun to land on his forehead, he looked up to the heavy sky, furling his brow at the sight. He was about to turn back into the skinning when a hand emerged from behind him, grabbed his throat and something blunt smacked into his head. Falling to unconciousness, he only saw a glimpse of a rust-coloured hood and a sharp, long knife. And as his body disappered into the tunnels, only the crows feeding on his abandoned kill remembered he was ever there.