Chapter CXXXIX: Loneliest Man in the Zone

 As sun begun to creep over the hills, and the embers of its radiant glow burned in the horizon, the town of Chornobyl's new inhabitants clamored to their shelters for the night. Here at the frontier of the Zone, it was best not to brave the night. Even in Cordon, wandering out into the night was exceedingly dangerous. Here, there was no telling what a stalker could run into if they were careless or foolish enough. The night-time woods near the only Freedom and stalker holdout echoed bellowing, howls and growls from unknown mutants. At times, bizarre human-like voices could reach the base as well, raising the hairs on the guards' necks.

Gloomy was one of such guards. He had been a volunteer, actually, and his shift would end in five minutes. The next guard would arrive before it, which was important to Gloomy. He stared into the drop below him, standing atop one of the administrative buildings of Chornobyl factory. The building was probably almost ten metres tall, flanking the compound and serving as a tall wall for it. Gloomy sighed and took a step closer to the edge. One more step, and this wretched existence would be over. One more, he strained and tried to force his body to move, but it did not budge. Finally, a minute later, he stepped back from the edge, gritting his teeth.

• After all this years, all the tries, still my cowardice holds me back. Can't even manage to kill myself, Gloomy murmured spitefully.

• Uh, excuse me, what the fuck?, a disturbed voice called out from behind him.

Gloomy turned to face its source, and from the dark came a flashlight. It was some new guy, dressed in black and red armour. He was wearing an exoskeleton, but his helmet hang from the belt on it. The man had a brown, almost black hair, light-grey eyes and quite young face kept almost militantly out of facial hair. Between his lips was a half-burnt cigarette. Despite the man's concern, Gloomy could sense an air of intensity coming off of him.

• Were you about to end it all, mate?, the man asked, and something in his tone made sure Gloomy did not even try to lie.

• Yes. Truth be told, I just want to get out of it all. I'm a worthless piece of shit, no one even notices my existence. Every artefact I find, I either lose it foolishly or it gets stolen by some prick, every stalker I meet barely even pays attention to my pitiful form. My parents gave me away the day I was born, none of the foster homes kept me for long, I came to the Zone to find some meaning and only found more misery. I'm in the place that by all metrics should be some sort of new Klondike with dangers, adventures and treasures. And I feel nothing but self-pity and sadness, Gloomy explained, the sadness in his voice so deep that the warrior in front of him was visibly moved.

• Damn... Mate, killing yourself will achieve nothing. You're still young and in shape, there is things you can achieve. Sounds like bad luck has followed you along but you still have plenty of time to turn it around, the man said, empathy in his voice.

• Bad luck? There's been nothing but bad luck. Not a single event in my life has gone right, Gloomy shouted in rage, then seemingly calmed and looked up to the man before continuing.

• But you. Listen, I can't kill myself. No idea why, it's like some sort of self-preservation or cowardice thing. I've tried many times, many many times, but it won't work. But you look like you've killed before. Do me a favour and end it all. I still have some stuff stashed away that I can give you as a reward if you do it, Gloomy said enthusiastically.

• What? No, fuck off. I'm not killing you because you can't pull your shit together.

• Fine. I'll force your hand then, Gloomy said and grabbed his pistol from its holster, aiming at the man.

But before he could even fire, the man had taken him by the throat. His mind registered the Makarov he had drawn leave his hand, tossed over the edge of the building by the man. The man's face came into view, furious, and Gloomy begun to shake slightly.

• Stupid trick, boy. Listen here, and listen well. I won't kill you, because wasting your life is useless. Don't waste both our time by demanding such idiotic things. Sell that stash of yours and get the hell away from the Zone. I've been on your shoes, but I can't go back to the real world. You can, so do so, if you can't handle it here. Now, the man growled as he dropped Gloomy on his knees.

Gloomy panted, slumped over and trying to process what had happened. It was like the chokehold had snapped him back to his senses, and he shook his head before getting up. He looked into the exo-man's eyes more clearly now.

• I'm sorry... Something has been weighing on my mind the last few days I've been here. You're right, to waste my life now would be pointless. It's just that everything I do seems to lead to further setbacks and disappointments.

• Alright, sorry about roughing you up like that. But I know how you feel, I lost everything before I came to the Zone. But the lowest point is not the end.

Gloomy shuddered, the chilly night wind blowing through his Predator suit. The man was right, perhaps the Zone was causing this sudden depression in him, and the best course of action would be to leave. But something still pulsated in the back of his mind. A malignant being that tried to guide his instincts towards the ledge and over it. Gloomy suppressed it, and tried to push away some of the melancholy that had piled up in his soul for years.

• Why are you doing this? You don't know me, I don't know you, you never even said your name yet. Why waste your time on a recluse like me?

• Name's Dimuha. And the reason I'm wasting my time on you is because somebody else once wasted their time on me. But I also believe that you might help convince Max on an issue far greater than your mental health, no offense, Dimuha replied empathically.

Gloomy raised his eyebrow questioningly, and Dimuha explained that they were trying to convince Max that there was something in the lab nearby that could turn people into insanity. Gloomy nodded, his depression has grown much, much worse while in the Chornobyl area, and while his poor luck here as well could be the source, another reason seemed possible. He agreed to help, but pointed out that Max most likely would not take this as solid proof. Dimuha agreed, and said that they had another lead his friend was following. He asked Gloomy to help them with the lead, and the loner agreed.

Half an hour later in the slope nearby, a stalker was moving in the underbrush, covered by darkness. The man was a hunter, just like Gloomy, carrying an old Mosin rifle on his back. The hunter was clearly determined to reach his target, and seemed pleased as the church tower came into view. He fumbled for a cigarette, put it on his lips and then, coming to a realization, put it back in its pack. Behind him, about fifteen metres up the hill, Vityukha observed the man through his night vision binoculars. Something about the erratic movements and suspicious behaviour had first attracted the Redemption medic's attention. And the further from the base they went, the more his feeling of unease grew.

• Maybe he is out on a night artefact raid?, Vityukha mumbled to himself quietly, but shook his head.

• Couldn't be that, nobody hunts for artefacts here at night. Dangerous as it is already during the day. Besides, Semyon is a hunter, Vityukha thought to himself and followed the man further.

A dry snap of wood behind made him turn around, weapon raised. The barrel of the gun almost struck Dimuha in the chin, but Vityukha's friend merely smirked. Vityukha could see some stalker with him, presumably the Gloomy character Dimuha had gone to meet earlier.

• Almost got ya, you slow fool, Dimuha sneered, but Vityukha leered at him.

• I lost the lead because of your stupid antics. Let's check the church, you urod. Who's the stalker, by the way?, Vityukha asked.

• Gloomy, at your service. The guy wanted to end it all when I met him, thankfully I spoke him out of it.

• Huh, usually people only want to end themselves after talking to you. Oh, sorry, Gloomy, just a joke. Welcome to the crew, Vityukha said and shook the stalker's hand, Gloomy only scoffed at his joke, unoffended.

The trio of stalkers closed on the church in the cover of darkness, a glow coming from inside it. It was a warm, yellow glow, one of a campfire. The church was old, but remarkably intact, even though storms and the moss growing on its side had clearly taken a toll on it. There was an old skeleton by the door, much older than the current inhabitants. The old gravestones and orthodox crosses had been gnawed at by time, many tilted or even completely fallen over. Inside the church was an empty room with only a campfire in it. And next to it, Semyon, companion of the missing hunter Falcon.

He was behaving strangely. His upper torso and head was waving rhytmically in a circle, his legs crossed and hands on top of his knees. They could only see his back from the outside, but it was like the man was in a trance. Completely oblivious to the fire and the squad behind him, the man muttered something to himself very quietly. Gloomy seemed deeply disturbed, but Dimuha and Vityukha, having confronted Monolith troops many times, recognized it as some sort of psychic control. Dimuha stepped closer, his PB pistol held high. He could hear the muttering clearer now.

• I was in the right... The right. The fool was going to double cross me, I'm sure of it. This place is too precious for scum like him, too damn precious..., Semyon whispered to himself.

• Care to explain what is going on here, Semyon, Dimuha ordered in his most authoritative voice.

The hunter did not get spooked. His circling motion slowed down, until he stopped completely. Very slowly, he rose up to his full height, then turned around and looked Dimuha straight in the eye. And while Dimuha had seen plenty of things during his stalker career, disturbing things indeed, this one made him freeze completely. Never before had he seen such clear cut lunacy in a man's eyes. Monolith were brainwashed machines, Sinners were mad out of worship, but Semyon? He was clearly beyond salvation in every way possible. His eyes had a predatory glee mixed in with primal rage and animalistic desperation. And he did not say a word, simply stared at Dimuha. And then, he lunged forward.

Gunshots rang inside the small space, as the hunter charged Dimuha. Bullets tore open the attacker's flesh, sent flying pieces of meat and bone, but he grabbed Dimuha in absolute madness. Despite his exoskeleton, Dimuha was struggling to escape the madman's grip, his throat squeezed by the lunatic. Only the intervention of Vityukha firing point blank at Semyon's head saved the Redemption captain. Panting, Dimuha fell to his knees as the lifeless corpse of Semyon crashed to the floor. The blood from his headwound seeped into the dirt and planks beneath him. His face was an unrecognizable mess of blood and skullshards, only the thick black moustache clearly visible.

Vityukha crouched next to his friend and helped him breathe, as the adrenaline rush calmed down and the panicked heartbeats grew less alarmed. Gloomy stared at the dead body ahead of him, then at the two Redeemed and then at the weapon in his hand. His legs finally gave in and the unfortunate hunter landed face first in the sand, retching at the sight of Semyon. He had clearly seen very little death before, a miracle he had made it this far in that state, Vityukha thought. When Dimuha finally managed to come back to the land of the living fully, they searched the church and Semyon's corpse. The church had a forgotten VSS sniper rifle and a bunch of 9x39mm ammunition on the upper floor, alongside crudely drawn maps of the surrounding area. There was also an odd patch, one that none of them recognized, although Vityukha said that the symbol on it reminded him of something.

Semyon himself had merely some ammunition, a snubnose revolver and foodstuffs, plus his PDA. Most of it was useless notes about mutant movement, anomaly locations, recipes for cooking mutant meats and stash locations, but there were also some diary entries and message chains. Last diary entry was little more than rambling about the sanctity of Chornobyl and how it was not yet corrupted by stalkers. Other entries spoke of headaches, showed signs of paranoia and mentioned trips with Falcon closer to the hills nearby. One mentioned that Semyon had early on sought help from Nietzsche, but it did not help according to Semyon. The message chain with Falcon revealed that apparently they had found routes around the mines and Falcon wanted to explore further.

Semyon opposed this vehemently, and apparently the stalkers had agreed to discuss this in their hideout at the church. Last message from Falcon said that he was concerned about Semyon's behaviour and was on his way. That was three days ago. Convinced that Semyon had killed Falcon, the trio set off to find a corpse, but to no avail. No signs of major struggle, no items that could belong to Falcon, nothing. Dimuha lit a cigarette to calm his nerves and offered Gloomy one, but the hunter declined, turning instead to booze for comfort. One hell of a trial by fire for him, but the kid did well, Dimuha thought.

• What do we do now? No proof that Semyon killed Falcon, we only have a PDA with erratic, but not damning evidence, and a corpse, Vityukha asked.

• I could also testify, but people know I'm a recluse and a sad soul. Me being depressed doesn't prove shit, and Semyon won't prove anything either, Gloomy commented.

• We dig deeper then. Nietzsche, the local medic, is our only lead right now. And we need to ask around about this patch too, I believe it might be connected to all this, Dimuha replied, his mind racing with thoughts.

In the cover of moonlight, the squad left the church after burying Semyon. Two leads investigated, but left only with more questions, Dimuha felt defeated. But he knew he had to work harder to convince Max. Freedomers could be pigheaded at times, and Max especially was a stubborn guy, but they were not stupid. He just needed more evidence. Hopefully Nietzsche could provide them.