Amaury Dreher - Opalescence - The Secret of Pripyat

—I see.

He turned to me.

—What the hell are you doing here?

—I’m a journalist, I’m doing a report on the Zone and those who explore it.

Egor frowned and moaned. He did not appreciate my answer and seemed suspicious. Andrei noticed it and tried to calm the situation.

—Don’t worry, he doesn’t stay very long and I’ll always be with him. We can trust him. Isn’t that right?

He winked at me.

Egor coughed loudly as he expelled snot everywhere. He pushed a swearword and began to clean his jacket with his hands. Andrei gave me a sneaky, somewhat embarrassed look. Egor finally managed to calm his cough and spoke again.

—Tell me Andrei, are you still hanging out with Oleksandr? That crooked dog!

—Do you know Oleksandr?” I asked, turning to Andrei.

—Everyone knows him here, Egor replied. If I see him, I’ll break his jaw.

He moved while spitting on the ground.

—They had a little disagreement,” Andrei breathed to me. Oleksandr is very discreet right now. I think he is no longer interested in the Zone and prefers to spend his time in Kiev with his family.

Egor growled like a bear, before scraping his shaggy beard, scattering the ice crystals that had lodged in it. He then coughed violently into a kind of respiratory rash, expelling unidentified elements everywhere.

—Good for him to stay,” he replied, wiping the mud off his chin. Oleksandr is a jerk, I’d kill him if he ever decided to come here.

Andrei was looking to lighten the mood:

—Tell us Egor, how many years have you been walking the Zone?

—Alas, too much, but it’s my fault. I’ve grown too fond of it to give it up. It is true that time erodes a little what remains of it, but I will never be tired.

I noticed that Egor was holding a flask of alcohol in his large, hairy hands. It was a cheap vodka, with no visible label. The taste was probably despicable, but the satisfaction he got from it after emptying it made me jealous.

We stayed for long hours talking. Later, our conversation shifted to the disaster topic. Egor’s testimony could be useful to me for my report. He liked to talk about himself. He lived alone, as a recluse in the Zone, but his desire to capture attention was intact. I questioned him relentlessly. He told me about his wanderings, his discoveries. Egor seemed very informed. Apparently, he had a close relative who was in the plant at the time of death. Kind of like me after all. He described the famous April 26, 1986, to me as if he had been there himself.

—The employees were playing cards the night of the accident. There was a big sloppiness, nothing to do with it now. Today, if a hammer falls on a staff member’s toe, the whole country is aware of it and endless inspection procedures are launched. The plants are much better operated. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that the risk is insignificant, but I mean, it’s just like that.

—Yes, certainly, but that does not prevent new accidents from occurring. Besides, do Stalkers exist in Japan?

He swept the space with a wave of his hand.

—No… well, what’s the point… And it’s not comparable with Ukraine. Nothing will ever be comparable with this place.

He had spoken these last words with a seriousness I did not suspect him of. We left each other on this last remark, Egor returning to his lair and us to our slum. I was trying to fall asleep.

I left the tent in the early morning. The dawn and its orange shades unfolded peacefully. I had a new curiosity to satisfy. I wanted to go to the hospital in Pripyat, the basement to be precise. I informed Andrei to arrange a visit together. He immediately accepted. The next day, we found ourselves in front of the building. He had a big smile on his face, rather proud to have seen me change my mind: “After you, my friend! “he asked, with a wink as unsettling as it was intriguing.

I entered the armed building with a thousand precautions. 44 microsieverts. The counter was begging. Above my shoulder, I heard: “Stop that thing, it’ll drive you crazy.” I took Andrei’s advice and turned it off. We were now alone in the face of danger.

At the bottom of corridor 4 was an armoured door. No one really knew what was on the other side. The archival documents suggested sensitive medical equipment. Some speculated that there would be a secret reserve where poison and useful substances would be stored during the Cold War. A waste of time according to Andrei. The access key had been lost. The door was impassable, even with the most prodigious force. “There’s something more interesting, follow me,” he says.

I should have been terrified or overexcited, but I remained impassive. Basically, it was just another building, although a little more dangerous than the others. Garbage was littering the ground. The air was dirty and humid. Mould was eating away at some walls. We were progressing slowly, but without fear. Andrei was in conquered territory. He rejoiced to have me with him and to guide me into the dark depths of Pripyat.

We arrived in a small warehouse. Andrei lit up the room with his headlamp revealing rows of vials and utensils of all kinds. Some containers still contained liquids with multicoloured shades. The labels were missing or unreadable. “The bastards! “Andrei was angry. Apparently individuals had stolen elements. Objects from the Zone were sold on the Darknet and elsewhere. Some slightly disturbed collectors did not hesitate to spend countless amounts to make them their own and make themselves look interesting. But it wasn’t just medical equipment. Clothes were piled up. The fabrics were wrinkled, kneaded.

In the next room was a mattress and a small refrigerator. I laid my hand on the dusty handle. I was ready to open it, but at the last moment I stopped my action. Out of curiosity, I turned on the Geiger counter again. 54 microsieverts. Every second I spent here drastically increased my chances of developing cancer or worse.

I called Andrei, but I couldn’t. He had vaguely said something to me before he disappeared, I had already forgotten. He was probably busy photographing the site and identifying anomalies. My concern was incipient. Alone, I didn’t feel safe. In addition, I was suffering from a terrible headache, which made the situation suffocating. I felt a hand on my shoulder. Instinctively, I turned around and grabbed the man by the throat, ready to kill him. Andrei looked at me both panicked and smiling.

—Shall we go?” he asked.

—Yes, I want to get out of here.

—I really thought you were gonna hit me, you know.

—So do I. I’m on edge right now. I feel like the Zone is making me impulsive.

—In that case, maybe it’s time for you to leave her.

These last words left me pensive. Should I have put an end to my wanderings? How can I be convinced to leave the exclusion zone and especially what to do once outside? My life would be bland, the stakes flat and futile.

The Zone had attracted me to it and now kept me in it. Like a spider, she had woven her web, trapping my reason and judgment. I was captive and aware of it. Paradoxically, the Zone had also liberated me by satisfying the identity and existential quest that had been pulling me since childhood.

I didn’t want to run away. There was still so much to discover. I decided to stay a little bit longer.

15 h 34.

The sun was advanced in the sky, the wind remained calm. A very slight mist emanated from the forest. The conditions were ideal.

My GPS indicated the route to Pripyat. I carefully followed the path until I spotted the junction I was waiting for. It was necessary to weave between swamps and then take the small alleyway that went towards the trees. It was there. I had finally reached the entrance to the Red Forest. Ecstatic, I meticulously parked my car and then set off on the track.