Balázs Pataki - S.T.A.L.K.E.R. - Northern Passage

“You’re cool, man! Yes, I asked you about your base in Limansk!”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, keep on smoking that weed. Good, ain’t it?”

For the first time, something resembling a smile appears on the Monolithian’s face. “Uh-hum.”

“Okay, listen up,” the Freedomer called Kolya says. “A Dutyer visits the 100 Rads and tells Barkeep, ‘I want to buy the Goldfish artifact, everyone has one, only I am like an idiot!’ Barkeep says, ‘But it’s radioactive! What do you want to do with it?’ The Dutyer replies, ‘Radioactive, radiopassive, who cares? It’s not like I’ll put it down my pants, I’ll keep it on a chain!’”

He looks at the Monolithian with expectation and laughs.

“You get it, patsan? He doesn’t know what radioactivity is, haha!”

“Hehe. That’s good,” the Monolithian replies with a grin.

“Alright, buddy. You see, we’re going out of our way to make you feel good. Spill it — how many people in your assault group in Limansk?”

“I’m not telling you bastards anything! Do what you want!”

“You like that stuff, eh? Just think about it — we’ll give you a pack of weed for every man you name in your team!”

“Haha! Do you crazy anarchists really think I would sell out my Monolith brothers for ten packs of weed?”

The Freedomers exchange a puzzled glance, then burst out laughing. Seeing how the apparently easy-minded Monolithian let himself be fooled, Tarasov too slaps his forehead and chuckles.

“What are they talking about?” the Top asks.

“Tell you later,” Tarasov replies, still chuckling.

“All right… This is where the fun ends,” Che says wiping a tear from his eye. He turns to Tarasov and tries to sound serious. “You guys feel like joining us on a trip to Limansk?”

“No, sorry. We have to find an artifact for Barkeep,” Tarasov cautiously replies. “He gave us forty-eight hours to find it, otherwise the deal is off.”

“Damn,” Che sighs. “I can’t take a Monolith stronghold with four men… We better make it back to base and come back with reinforcements.”

“I guess we have no other choice with our new friends preferring to hunt for artifacts instead Monolithians,” Kolya says. “Eh, damn Loners… thinking only about themselves. Why don’t you broaden your perspective for a change? Join the good fight!”

“Kolya, agitation and propaganda is my job,” Che says checking his assault rifle for any dirt spots that might require cleaning. “Give these guys a break, will you?”

“What if they would give us a break? Always the same — they come to our base, beg us for supplies and all, but when it comes to the fight for freedom in the Zone… We are fighting for you, Stalkers!”

“Is that so?” Tarasov asks in a voice betraying his lack of interest.

“It’s a fight of the Stalkers for the Stalkers. Freedom is an armed nuclear—nucleo—” Kolya looks at Che, expecting him to help out.

“Nucleus,” his commander sighs.

“Yeah, that’s it. Nucleus. The fighting avantgarde of the Stalkers—”

“Vanguard, not avantgarde,” Che says and takes a small book from a pocket on his armor vest. “Avantgarde means paintings of naked women looking like a pile of cubes. Rodchenko and all that. Here, educate yourself better before you try agitating others.”

“Yes, commander,” Kolya shamefully says and opens the book in the light of the headlamp fastened to his helmet. Its title says Guerilla warfare .

“How’s Ashot doing?” Tarasov asks the commander to make the Freedomers change the subject. He knows very well that Freedom’s former arm dealer has moved to the New Zone but is curious to hear more of the story.

“Ashot?” Che says with a smile playing around his mouth. “He left for the New Zone.”

“Some Mercenaries were after him, sent by another trader or so I heard,” adds Kolya. ”Ashot had cut under the agreed price. All about the damn money, of course.”

“Really? Because I heard a different story,” the third Freedomer says who in the meantime had managed to make a small fire. He takes off his gloves and warms his hands at the still weak flame.

“How cold you Nika? You weren’t even in the Dark Valley base in the old days.”

“I wasn’t, but a guy at Yanov told me he heard it from another guy who was on patrol with the guys from Dark Valley…”

“That’s what I call first hand intel,” Che says with a smile.

“It went like this: after a long day of repairing equipment, Uncle Yar returned to the tent he used to share with Ashot. As he approached, he noticed the tent was shaking violently.”

“That’s why I hate having canned beans for dinner,” Kolya says.

“Anyway, Yar slowly drew his combat knife and pistol. Walking up to the flap he slowly opened it. He saw the rumble of shadows and heard the lustful moans of Ashot—and some strange growls.”

“Ashot moaning while having sex is okay but a gun barrel growling?”

“Stop interrupting me, goddammit! So Yar thought to himself, Damn! What kind of whore did Ashot get his hands on? He walked over to turn on the light. The rambling in Ashot’s bed came to a halt. With wide eyes, Ashot looked at the body on top of him. He yelled ’H-HOLY S-SHIT!!’ and leapt out of the bed. Yar stood there like a statue, seeing a bloodsucker purring and looking at Ashot affectionately.”

“Yeah! That’s what!” Kolya says, laughing.

“Was it at least a female one?” Che asks.

“Whatever. Ashot left next morning in shame and never came back.”

“You know what? Funniest part is I can actually believe it,” Kolya says.

“Yeah… Ashot and Yar, “ Che says with a sigh. ”The good old days. Less Duty, more fun…”

After their laughter that Tarasov couldn’t resist sharing, silence falls. Only the wounded Monolithian keeps whispering.

“Monolith… oh Monolith… why did you…”

“Shut up,” Che suddenly says and puts his hand on the prisoner’s mouth. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” Tarasov whispers back.

Che reaches for his weapon. “Wait—listen!”

“I don’t hear a thing, commander,” Kolya says but he too works his rifle’s safety off.

“That’s it—it’s dead quiet in the forest. No mutants, nothing!”

“Top, Pete,” Tarasov whispers. “Weapons at ready. Something’s not right.”

He moves closer to the door and listens. Che was right — not as much as a single blind dog howls in the deep night. Even the croak of the ravens has died off.

“Emission approaching?” Nika asks under his breath.

Che shakes his head. “No—the mutants are scared.”

“What would scare a mutant?”

Che has no time to answer. All of a sudden, something heavy impacts on the roof of the log hut, followed by a deep, gurgling growl.

“Chimera,” Che yells, ”it’s a chimera!”

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” a panic-stricken Nika shouts. “The roof is about to collapse on us!”

“No!” Tarasov shouts back. “Stay close to the walls! Nooria, get into that corner! Top, Pete, stay in front of her!”

“What the hell is happening?”

“We just became the lowest on the Zone’s food chain!”

The two Freedomers don’t wait for Che’s command and open fire. The bullets tear through the rotten wood and apparently hit the still unseen mutant, because the growling from above gets louder and angrier.

“Wait!” Tarasov shouts through the noise of gunfire. “You’ll just piss it off! Don’t waste your ammo!”

Suddenly, two of the beams bulge and fall directly into the fire, sending up a cluster of sparks. Nika, who was closest to the fire, falls to the ground and moans from pain. This probably saves his life—a long arm reaches inside through the hole of the roof and two curved claws, as long as a man’s forearm, scythe the air where the Freedomer was standing just a heartbeat ago. Missing him, they carve into Kolya’s chest, lifting up the hapless fighter who is still firing his weapon. The mutant’s arm disappears together with its prey. Another beam falls when the chimera’s limbs thrust the massive body off the roof, with Kolya’s scream marking the direction of its jump. It dies off before bushes rattle not far from the hut, marking the spot where the mutant has landed with its prey.