Amaury Dreher - Opalescence - The Secret of Pripyat

I was worried for a few seconds about whether Oleksandr had heard me. How would he have reacted if he had seen me?

I walked away with great strides and limped slightly. My own dazzling energy surprised me. I almost felt like the roles had been reversed between me and Oleksandr. I was troubled by his change of character. I didn’t think he had the capacity for suffering, he who was so austere and detached. As for me, I felt more and more comfortable to evolve in the Zone, at least I was trying to convince myself of that. The days I spent here had hardened me. My survival instinct, my resistance to the physical elements, all this had developed recently. On the other hand, I was well aware that my memory problems had become worse. I preferred to ignore this deficiency because it affected me so much. I forced myself to deny this deep weakness. Lying there plunged me into a dark sadness where virulent remorse rubbed shoulders frantically. I chose to ignore it, to live in the omission. It was in this raging state of mind that I walked for hours. I wanted to find my one and only ally here, the Howler.

I quickly reached his hut. He welcomed me as a faithful friend, dropping off food and blankets while listening to my story without interrupting me. In the end, he just sighed and shrugged.

—I’m tired of you. You better leave, I don’t know what’s keeping you here. These bastards will turn your head. Maybe it’s already too late. You grew up here, but you don’t have to die here. Leave them in their madness. Give them up to their obsessions. Go back to your previous life.

—But still… I don’t understand. They seem to need me. And then Oleksandr is a riddle. The other two as well. I have trouble understanding them.

—You know, I knew Oleksandr well. There was a time when we were almost friends. He was walking around the Zone, accompanied by some avant-garde visitors. Sometimes he would bring me supplies or equipment for my shack and then at night we would play cards together. He never seemed to want to go home, constantly postponing the time to leave… It is true that he was not very talkative. As the seasons passed, his visits became rarer. We gradually lost contact. To be honest, I don’t care what happened to him. It doesn’t look good anyway. As for the other two, I can’t tell you anything. I don’t really know them. They seem smart, but I’m not sure what the hell they’re doing here. They are running to their doom. Like you, by the way.

He sighed as he stroked his beard. He looked like someone who had talked too much and was now satisfied with the silence. After long minutes, he finally took the floor again:

“I’m sick of your stories, you’re driving me crazy. You can stay here for the night, but tomorrow go away for good. I hope you never see me again. I’ve already buried enough people.”

As soon as his last words were spoken, he disappeared behind a thick red curtain. A few minutes later, I heard him snore to the rhythm of the wind. As for me, I was thinking. I felt trapped in a decision that was beyond me. I was thinking about Oleksandr. How could I fear this man who saved my life? If he hadn’t taken me out of the Red Forest, I would have stayed there dead from cold or exhaustion. If I was really his enemy, he had had the opportunity to let me disappear. On the other hand, he seemed to be watching over me while the other two were dragging me into crazy plans. I was starting to hate them. As I frequented them, they seemed unreliable and untrustworthy to me. They had convinced me to embark on their adventure, their damn treasure hunt. I didn’t ask for anything. That’s not why I came here. I had to talk to them, stop all this. I don’t even know what made me accept it anymore. I was clearing my throat by letting another swear word burst out. I felt hateful towards all of them. It’s decided, I was stopping this fuss. Tomorrow I’ll talk to Amanda about it and escape from here.

The day after tomorrow.

When I reached the top of the tree, I scanned the horizon. The landscape stretched out in front of me in absolute calm. The silence was brutal. Not a single sound disturbed the environment. No bird cries, no insect rustling. Not a single breath of wind. The nothingness.

I tried to distinguish despite the darkness. The river widened as it moved northward. Small, connected streams and all ice-covered meandered around. A multitude of pine trees were in front of my eyes. They were beautiful, they seemed infinite to me.

The screamer’s hut was camouflaged, but visible to the one who knew of its existence. It was high enough to prevent easy access, but too little hidden to prevent observation. To penetrate it, it was necessary to climb about ten meters on a ladder suspended from the dubious solidity. I was thinking that its occupant was probably sleeping at this late hour. With the help of a few stars, I managed to see his boat lying below. It was laid on the ground, nonchalantly and in plain sight.

I went down from my observation point to the shore. It was with a thousand precautions that I pushed the raft. I was afraid of undulating the water, of violating this so perfect aquatic integrity. The current was light, the conditions almost ideal. I was slipping on the river towards the reactor. Its luminous aspect guided me. It was my landmark in this marshy maze. Orientation in such an environment was not easy. I had to be on my guard. One mistake and I would find myself at a checkpoint, where a handful of sluggish soldiers would be happy to stop me and blackmail me to give back my freedom.

Lying on my boat, I was slow but powerful in my rowing movements. I was approaching the nuclear complex. No dial tone was coming to me. The reactor was totally silent. It was a destabilising sight given its dimensions and imposing lighting. My mind seemed to want to hear sounds, sounds of men getting busy, roars of machines being operated. In fact, I could almost perceive the steam that should have come out of the cooling column.

Did my brain play tricks on me? Yes, of course, but I liked it. This almost tangible vision soothed me. I was delighted to think that Chernobyl could have succeeded. After all, it was only a succession of avoidable events that led to the disaster. Like the sinking of the Titanic, the Chernobyl tragedy was part of a long process from the design of the machine to the improper execution of the final operations. Since then, the defective gears had to be studied and dissected by specialists. The whole society had learned from these mistakes and emerged as a result. At least, I had high hopes of it.

My dreams were swept away in a single moment, when I saw the huge structure still under construction. The cooling tower was truly sumptuous. Andrei did not hesitate to call it a piece of art. Never finished, it stood proudly and dominated the river in a flamboyant manner.

I decided to go there. I had never entered such a building before and knew little about how it worked. Was it dangerous? Probably not…

I docked calmly on the shore, tying my raft to an iron post that pointed out of the water. The cooling column was very close and easily accessible. I was very eager to visit this colossus with its almost ancient appearance. A few meters away was the entrance.

Inside the building, the sounds resonated, the echo of my footsteps broke the silence by small metallic clattering. The cooling tower was of the hyperboloid type. It culminated in a spherical opening, which gave the impression of observing the sky through a long telescope. The remaining elements were filtered, hidden by the structure and exempted from my view.

The tower was comforting. There was a sense of security, surrounded by the huge concrete column that seemed to rise to the stars. My gaze could be peacefully lost in the infinite stellar universe.