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

Tarasov gives him an allowing nod.

“So, with all due respect, Top,” Pete continues, ”empty talk about honor won’t make us any better than the baddies we’re about to join. At least not in the eyes of the guys on our tail. Let’s face it, folks — for the world outside, we’re all just criminals and outcasts!”

“You are way wrong about our honor,” the Top angrily says. “If the extent of how wrong you are could be measured in caliber, I’d blast the moon from the sky with it!”

“I guess you’d enjoy that but as I see it, we’re almost overqualified for becoming bandits. At least for playing along with them until we get out of here.”

“Smart kid,” says the Doc.

Tarasov too finds himself giving a nod of agreement.

“Sounds bizarre, but Pete has a point.”

“But those fucks have no honor!”

“Come on, Top! You like Godfather, don’t you? The mafia is all about honor this and honor that but it still makes them criminals!”

Still, Hartman doesn’t budge.

“Screw Hollywood, Mikhailo! For chrissakes, this is a real life situation and you’re testing my very understanding of honor!”

“Then what the hell can we do? Even if we manage to sneak out from the Zone, what should we do? Trek all the way home?”

“We still have our passports and our credit card…”

“This is the SBU we are dealing with, and that also means all the former KGB network from Kaliningrad to Vladivostok! Don’t you ever underestimate them. Right as we speak, they must be assembling a killer squad to hunt us down.” Tarasov gives Hartman a grim smile. “Your candor is appreciated, Top, but we’re outlawed, outgunned, outnumbered and on the run. Clusterfuck Central as you would say.”

“To sum it up: we’re goddamn stuck here, but we cannot stay here,” Pete adds, emboldened by Tarasov taking his side. “I don’t see any other way out than Bandit Tours. So, what’s your final say?”

Hartman spins his tea cup on the table.

“Let’s Nooria have the final say,” he presses out between his lips. “She’s the most important of us.”

All eyes switch to Nooria who is effing with her blade.

“We go with Bandits,” she softly says. “They do have honor, Top. Sultan gave me his word to bring me to Zone and he kept it.”

The Top rolls his eyes but doesn’t dare arguing. However, Nooria has not finished yet and as she speaks her voice becomes harder and harder.

“I want us to go with Sultan’s men because I hate them. You can not imagine how much. I must stay with them because I want Sultan feel my rage. Let’s see if he will be entertained when I cut his chest open, tear out his black heart, burn it and curse its ashes while he is still alive to watch it!”

She screams the last words with such a rage that makes even the Top recoil in his seat.

Tarasov stares at her aghast. He has never experienced such an outbreak of elemental fury of his tiny woman who now appears like a true witch—eyes burning with rage, veins pulsating on her neck and her voice carrying evil power that, so it seems, would by itself kill the kingpin if he were here to hear it.

“Witch has spoken,” Nooria says in a lower but still trembling voice. She pulls her hood on and storms out of the house into the night, leaving the door ajar.

Tarasov jumps up but the Doctor shows him to stay and whistles. The pseudodog gets up from his place at the fire and rushes after Nooria.

“Druzhok!” the Doctor shouts. “Zakry dver!”

The door slams shut.

“My dog is the only company she needs now,” the Doctor says, calmly sipping his tea. “He will protect her until the stars calm her down.”

For several heartbeats there is deep silence in the room, only the fire crackles.

Finally, Pete looks around and clears his throat.

“Looks like we have a plan.”

“Do you think they’ve hurt her?” the Top asks.

“No,” Tarasov says, shaking his head. ”I have a feeling that something happened in Kiev that made her not only angry but very sad as well. Something she experienced and wants to revenge. She wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

“Outstanding. She can bloody well count me in.”

“Oh, women,” Sawyer says. “We lesser mortals just can’t understand what’s goin’ on in their heads.”

“I need vodka, Doc,” Tarasov says.

“Me too. Geez, I’ve never seen anyone in such a rage!”

“If you want to keep it that way, Pete, never piss off your father. Nooria’s just been a purring kitten if compared to the big man in rage.”

“Is that so? Now that I’ve seen my stepsister in a fury I wouldn’t want to be part of a family argument. That’s for sure.”

“Well, friends, I think it’s time to relax now.” The Doctor places a bottle of vodka on the table and fills five shot glasses. “Za udachy,” he says rising his glass. “To success!”

They all finish the vodka in one gulp.

“Becoming Ukrainian?” the Doctor asks and smiles at the three foreigners. “Good!”

“It’s your vodka that’s good.” Tarasov smacks his lips. “Cossacks?”

“Finlandia.”

“You’re a traitor to the Motherland, Doc.”

“Then I should also go and join the Bandits, I take?”

Tarasov wishes the Doctor weren’t joking.

“We better call it a day if we want to set out early tomorrow,” he says switching off the PDA. “Sawyer, are you absolutely sure about staying here?”

“Avoiding having to get up at an ungodly hour is just another reason to stay,” the Australian says getting to his feet. “G’nite, peeps. I’ll say my farewells in the morning… if I manage to get up!”

“Shouldn’t we check out on Nooria?” the Top asks.

“If the Doc says she’ll be fine, there’s no need to worry.”

“There better ain’t.”

“When do we set out?” Pete asks.

Tarasov glances at his watch. “Five sharp.”

Hearing this, Pete loudly yawns. He takes his towel from the fireplace where their clothes are drying on a rack and waves good night.

Tarasov and the Doctor move two chairs to the fireplace where they make themselves as comfortable as they can. They both know that even if they ever meet again, it will be in a far and uncertain future. For a long time they just sit and listen to the fire crackling. Then the Doctor breaks the silence.

“How is Strelok?”

“Nooria somehow rejuvenated him. He told me he’s out to do mischief, so maybe one of these days he’ll show up here to hide for a while.”

“Yes… this house will always be a safe haven for him.” The Doctor fills two shot glasses. “Let’s drink once more. To him and those lucky enough to make it here.”

“How do you manage to keep this place secret?” asks Tarasov taking one the glasses. “Word of your healing skills must drive many Stalkers here.”

“Only those come who the Zone allows,” the Doctor says. “Only those make it back from here, too. They all know that the only thing that can guide one to me is the Zone itself.”

“You think Sawyer has been called by it, too?”

The Doctor firmly nods.

“Definitely. Entering a Space anomaly was as foolish as it was brave. His survival was a sign that the Zone wanted him to enter. It remains to be seen what plans the Zone has with him. For now, he’s a man with a good but weary heart, looking for something that can give a new meaning to his life.” A mysterious smile plays around the Doctor’s mouth. “Nothing a little woodcutting couldn’t heal.”

Just a few minutes ago, Tarasov had been eager to clean himself up and get into bed for a good night’s sleep. He knows that this moment of peace and safety will be the last before another long, perilous stretch, and the temptation to enjoy the cozy warmth of the fireplace proves too strong to resist. Moreover, it could be the last time for him to chat with the Doctor. After all, chances are that once he is out of the Exclusion Zone he will never return. Thinking of his future, all is a riddle.