Amaury Dreher - Opalescence - The Secret of Pripyat

I walked on the rails, crushing with my feet the elements that blocked my progress. Yanov was very close. The station had opened in the 1920s and once served Moscow. I was arriving on a kind of large vacant lot. Soviet military equipment rested there, promised to be forgotten. A few MDK-2Ms was lying in the middle of other vehicles in an advanced state of abandonment. The caterpillars were still present although they were faded. A numbering painted on the bodywork could still be seen.

Many train carcasses rotted there. I was remembering our walk with Andrei. I was unable to recognise the car he had shown me. They were a multitude, most of them slumped and with similar looks. As I watched the locomotives, I was struck by a red star painted on one of the trains. It was one of the most famous figures of communism with his pentagram form, which was supposed to represent a lot of things according to interpretations. Today, the pictogram was accepted as a symbol of popular culture so much so that it was proudly displayed by some well-known alcohol brands, which had the ability to annoy the former Eastern Bloc countries.

The red was so bright that it almost attacked the eyes. Someone had fun and probably redesigned it. The painting of whatever quality it was could not have survived three decades without losing its superb quality. I had been dwelling on this detail for several minutes when someone gently tapped me on the shoulder.

—Am I disturbing you?

It was Oleksandr. I jumped back.

—I’m a little surprised to see you here. I thought you had returned to Kiev, I replied.

—Yes, I did too, but I missed the Zone. Kiev is pretty dull right now. Is everything all right?

—All right. Yes, I can be fine, even though I’m pretty tired these days.

—Have you met any people lately, besides Andrei?

—No, no, no, no.

—And what are you doing here? Are you looking to see or find something special?

—Oh nothing, I’m wandering. I’m going to leave soon.

He cleared his throat as if he disapproved of my answer. His peremptory tone annoyed me. I felt like I was being interrogated, it wasn’t a friendly discussion.

—All right, don’t hesitate to call me if you see or hear anything strange. I’m your protector, don’t forget. I feel responsible. After all, I was the one who showed you how to get in. I don’t want anything to happen to you.

—Everything will be fine, I plan to come back out soon anyway.

—Very well. I’ll see you later.

He left as quickly as he had appeared, his silhouette gradually disappearing, caught up in the falling snow. Once again, Oleksandr had found himself in the area. The coincidences followed one another and made me uncomfortable. I had the impression that he knew where I was without even looking for me. He appeared unexpectedly and always pretended to be a combination of circumstances. I was beginning to think he was following me. But how could he know so precisely my movements? I had no transmitter nor emergency beacon. I undertook to unpack my bag and meticulously search the contents. One particular object caught my attention. The Geiger counter that Oleksandr gave me on the first day was there. It must have contained a GPS chip. Naively, I had kept him with me and he had never left me. Oleksandr had been following me from the beginning. He was informed of all my movements. Maybe he even inserted a microphone or even a camera? He could have listened to all my conversations. I was now sure: he knew about Amanda. A shudder ran through my body, making my organs and the ground under my feet vibrate.

Why did he need me? What was his interest in manipulating me?

Deep inside me lay an obvious solution. I couldn’t grasp it, as if the truth was too obvious to emerge clearly.

Silence. I was lying against a wall, my eyes half-closed and my hands joined on my chest. The ground was cold, but my body was fine there. My mind was wandering. Strange imaginings were attacking me. I was in a state of near sleep, my muscles relaxed and my attention relaxed. I could see shadows, but I couldn’t determine if they were dreamed of or suspended above me. I could feel the slumber catch up with me. Slowly, almost gently, I fell asleep. It is at this moment that he appears. Two powerful hands fell on my throat and began to squeeze methodically. Panicked, I opened my eyes in a hurry. I couldn’t distinguish my attacker. He wore a hood that concealed his face. I squirmed in all directions to escape his embrace, beating him with what I hoped would be very violent blows. My attacker was neither strong nor fit for this type of combat. I felt that his own pain made him doubtful. His actions were now insecure, almost trembling. Diminished by my attacks, he finally let go and fled without saying a word. The attack lasted less than ten seconds. His retirement had been pitiful, the assailant had left as quickly as he had emerged. As for me, I was breathless; I could not claim any pursuit. Once again, I found myself huddled in my meagre shelter, subjected to a state of absolute terror. Death had sought to strike, once again. Someone else wanted to eliminate me. In the fight, I had managed to pull out a few blond hairs, too pure a colour to be natural. It only took me a few seconds and the moon’s dim light to understand the identity of my attacker. Deep down, I wasn’t really surprised. I always knew that. I hoped not to forget this moment, I promised myself to freeze it forever in my memory. I lay down again against the wall. Silence.

32nd days in the Zone, Wednesday.

It was a grey afternoon, as is often in the Zone. After going through the forest maze, I arrived at the Howler’s hut. With a loud voice, I hailed him. An icy silence was my only answer. No matter how much I shouted, or threw rocks: he didn’t answer.

Perhaps he had simply reclusive?

It was his style to my dear friend. The Howler had probably barricaded himself in his house. The suspended ladder had been folded down and there was no access road to reach it. The only solution was to climb the tree through the trunk. It was unthinkable. Not even a bear could have climbed that high. I was thinking about the worst. He could have killed himself. I ruled out the possibility of his murder. He was far from human agitations, which no longer reached him. No one had any real reason to kill him. At least, I didn’t think I remembered it.

I took my courage with both hands and ran for it. My fingers grabbed the first branches and I carefully began the ascent. Despite the lack of scale, the climb seemed much easier than for Duga. The wind was harmless. It seemed to almost accompany me, gently, holding its breath. I felt safe and perceived no danger. However, I was not held by any harness. A simple loss of balance and it would be a downfall. That would be the end. However, I did not consider my own destruction as a frightening possibility. I had been through so much recently that I was detaching myself from death. It was just one shadow among many. It would hit me sooner or later, anticipating it wouldn’t change anything. I evacuated my thoughts in order to concentrate on my progress, trying to make the right movements without losing the rhythm of my climbing.

When I reached the top of the tree, I grabbed the iron bar that marked the entrance to the cabin, with its small porch fitted with a few boards. Footprints were noticeable, the snow had kept them very sharply, suggesting that they were recent.

The shack door was ajar. I didn’t bother knocking to signal my presence. An infamous smell was coming from inside. Slowly, I approached, entering the house with measured steps. Where the hell was he?

I saw him quite quickly. The Howler was sitting in his only chair in a strange position. His body seemed deformed. His head had been cut off and his arms dismembered. His chest was covered in blood and showed multiple lacerations. I had a gagging heart with dizziness. He had been massacred, obviously without having been able to put up any defence. I couldn’t stand this sight any longer. This tortured body disgusted me. I couldn’t stay there. I came out with shaky hands. Outside, the blizzard echoed my pain. Rage animated me more than fear. I threw the suspended ladder into the void and came down at high speed. Once on the ground, I started cutting strips and gathering a few centimetres of ropes. I’ll put it all in my pocket like a precious commodity was being stored.