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STALKER - a novel

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  15:50:25  3 November 2008
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The Lazy Writer


On forum: 10/21/2008
Messages: 5198
STALKER - a novel

Ever since I've been playing Stalker:SoC I've been tinkering with the idea of writing a full blown novel based on the game (and on CS) - so far I've written the prologue basing it on the movie from the game, and the manual that comes with it - let me know what you think:


“But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night, in which the heavens shall pass away with great noise and the elements shall melt with fervent heat. The earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up.” 2 Peter 3:10

Stalker (plural stalkers) noun
1. A person who stalks game.
2. A person who secretly follows someone, especially someone famous, sometimes with unlawful intentions.
3. Any of various devices for removing the stalk from plants during harvesting etc
English Dictionary entry 2008.

Part One

The Death Truck bounced along the old road out of the Zone. It was a dark night with thick cloud cover. The driver could barely see the rest of the world beyond the beams of his headlights, never mind the black tarmac of the road.
Why Vasilii? Why do they always pick on poor Vasilii to drive the bastard Death Truck run? They know I hate it! The Bastards!
Vasilii nervously glanced at the rear-view mirror but, thankfully, he could see nothing of the contents of the trucks rear. The Death Trucks passengers always disturbed Vasilii which is probably why they always volunteered him for this honourable duty.
A large rain drop splattered against the windscreen giving Vasilii a start and heralded the beginning of the Zone’s nightly electrical storm.
‘And, now it starts to rain. Bastard!’ Vasilii roared, more to get his confidence back than for any other reason, and slammed his hand against the steering wheel. The few drops quickly turned into a downpour. Vasilii had to hunker down over the wheel with his head craned forward in an attempt to actually see where he was going.
A lightning flash lit up the surrounding countryside giving him a snapshot of the surrounding tree lined fields. He hadn’t reached the woods yet so he still had several hours of driving in this shit weather to go. The Death Truck run always took several hours and Vasilii had some consolation that he could sleep through most of the morning the next day. Sleep in a nice soft bed, with real sheets; a bed that was not in the Zone. And real food, even Army food, was better than the food you got to eat in the Zone. It wasn’t enough though. Even a single night sleeping outside the Zone away from Stalkers, the Military, Mercs and the damn Zombies, was not much consolation for driving this fucking truck full of dead zombie Stalkers. Vasilii had to get out, get reposted somewhere else, anywhere else. Anywhere that wasn’t the Zone. He knew it wasn’t going to happen though. He was here for life, which in the Zone wasn’t that long.
More lightning flashed around him striking the fields on the side of the road, giving Vasilii a second bright-white snapshot of the countryside and he saw the forest a few miles away. A few more minutes and he would be there, and half-way to his destination. He was making good time.
He swerved to avoid an anomaly that was eating away at the road and cautiously glanced in the rear-view mirror and wished he hadn’t. The wind had grabbed the tarpaulin and lifted it allowing a lightning flash to illuminate the interior of the back of the truck. Just the sight of all the dead made his skin crawl, but what made all the hairs on his body stand-up and cold dread grip his bowls was the sight of the last Stalker that they had thrown into the truck. He was propped up against the backboard as if he was just sleeping, with his head resting on an arm that was jammed up against the backboard. Vasilii shuddered.
‘Bastards,’ he muttered under his breath quietly as if not to wake his passengers. Someone was really trying to mess with him. ‘Fuckin’ bastards!’
He was still staring at the mirror when another flash of lightning struck the road a couple of feet from the cab of the truck and Vasilii instinctively pulled the wheel away and swerved to avoid the lightning without thinking. He didn’t see the anomaly bubbling away just to the right side of the truck, right in the truck’s new path. The front wheels hit the anomaly and Vasilii’s combined Geiger Counter and Anomaly Detector started bleeping wildly.
‘Oh, fuck no! FUCK NOOOOO!!!!!!’ Vasilii knew it was too late.
The increased mass of the trucks wheels destabilised the anomaly and it exploded in a massive electrical discharge. It caught the truck half-way between the front and back wheels and blew it over on to its side. Vasilii’s scream was cut off as his head smacked in to the driver’s side door. The truck ploughed off the road gouging deep ruts into the tarmac and then in the field until it came to rest several dozen metres from the road.

The morning was bright and the world glistened. A lone man pounded across the field in the distance eating lope of an experienced Stalker. He heard a high pitched beep in his ear and slowed to a walk as he pulled his PDA out of the inside pocket of his coat. The PDA came alive and a map of the local area showed the Stalker that there were two other PDA’s active somewhere close. He visually scanned the area and could see that they were both located over the rise that marked the edge of the nearby road. He turned and started running toward the road. One of the PDA’s registered that the owner was dead and he could only have been that way for a couple of days as the PDA still had power. The other one showed that the owner was alive, however, there was no movement and this part of the Zone was not the sort of place you would spend the night: too many blind dogs, psuedodogs and boars roaming about in the dark.
The Stalker stopped when he reached the top of the ridge. He could easily see the overturned truck and its grisly cargo. He took his rifle off his shoulder and scanned the wreck with the scope of the Vintar. There was no movement. Slinging the sniper rifle over his shoulder he checked his PDA again. Definitely one alive! Must be the driver!
The Stalker slowly walked to the front of the truck and checked out the cab.
He found the driver lying in a very awkward position. His neck was at a very unnatural angle and there was dried blood coming out of his mouth and from a nasty head wound. The Stalker knelt close to the windscreen and banged on it. He waited a couple of minutes and got no response. Definitely dead then. He moved round to the rear of the truck and started to examine the bodies he found. Some were already in the advanced stages of decomposition, while most looked like they had only been dead a day or so. However, the instincts of a Stalker made him check each body just in case there was anything useful in their pockets. It was probably pointless; he guessed that the dead’s possessions would have been taken from before they were put on the Death Truck. He moved to the last body. This one didn’t seem to be in as a bad a condition as the others. The Stalker knelt down and was about to start searching the body when it moved. He nearly jumped out of his skin. Whoever heard of someone alive in the back of a Death Truck.
‘So, this is one alive! Unlucky for him.’ The Stalker muttered to the unconscious man lying at his feet. ‘Death would have saved him from the dreams!’
He grabbed the unconscious man by the front of his damaged Anomaly Suit and began to haul him upright.
‘I wonder what price Sidorovich will put on your head?’ he asked the world as he got his shoulder under the unconscious Stalker and lifted him off the ground. He turned and moved off in the general direction of the Rookie Camp and Sidorovich’s Bunker.

Part Two

Two figures stood on the side of the valley that most people called the Cordon. They both were looking at the tall wire fence that surrounded the entire Zone. Someone new had managed to break-in. Another Rookie.
‘I bet he makes it all the way to the Rookie Village!’ stated the shorter and much fatter of the two. The taller one just laughed quietly.
‘The Military have seen him. He won’t get very far.’ The faint blaring of the Military Outposts siren could just be heard along with the odd crack of rifle fire. ‘See he’s panicked already.’
The Rookie had indeed panicked and was running away from the soldiers. He wasn’t looking where he was going. Obviously no-one had told him that the anomalies where spreading and soon the Zone Exclusion Area would have to be increased in size. He still thought he could make it to the Rookie Village before he ever saw an anomaly. He didn’t notice the chunks of meat that were scattered in a large circle around him, or the faint circular breeze that had sprung up as he walked passed the debris. The whirligig grabbed him before he got even half-way to its centre. The two observers watched as the Rookie was sucked into the centre of the anomaly and where he was spun at tremendous speeds. The shorter of the two hoped that the young man was dead at this point. The whirligig span faster and faster and the body was spun faster and faster until it reached the top of the column of whirling air. At this point the anomaly had built up to a critical point and exploded throwing chunks of meat and equipment everywhere in a circle of macabre debris around its perimeter.
‘You should have taken the bet Strelok!’ He stated but his companion had already walked away. ‘What you not going to get his pack?’ He asked as he ran to catch-up.
‘You go. I have better things to do.’ Strelok said over his shoulder.
When the shorter man caught up Strelok had stopped and was waiting.
‘Someone should stop the Rookies from coming in here.’ Strelok said. ‘They will only die, one way or another.’
‘Hmm. I remember when you were a Rookie.’
‘You and I were born in the Zone, Sidorovich. And we will die in the Zone. Without it we are nothing.’
‘Speak for yourself Strelok. I intend to leave one day a very rich man.’ Strelok laughed and shook his head.
‘I’m leaving the Cordon and heading up to the Garbage and the Bar. If you see the boys tell them to meet me in the usual place.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘We’re going to head north.’

Part Three

First Incident

Anonymous Diary, found on site by liquidators in the aftermath of the first catastrophe at Chernobyl.

“Chernobyl, 26th April 1986

00:15 am
Reactor down to 720mwt, power level planned for the experiment. Must not drop further as reactor could become instable.

00:28 am
Control transferred from local to global control, inexplicable power drop to neutron power zone, 30mwt. Impossible to bring reactor power back up to 30% level, too much xenon poisoning, coolant void too low, graphite has cooled down too much.

00:36 am
Impossible to control steam drum level, one of the steam drum level trips is disabled; should still be safe though.

00:43 am
Disabled safety rods of both turbo generators, the experiment can now run as planned.

01:03 am
Reactor power raised to 299mwt and stabilized. No 7 main coolant pump turned on, proceeding with experiment as planned.

01:07 am
No 8 main coolant pump turned on. Flow rates are above permissible. Steam void decrease, must withdraw more absorbers. Power level too low, hydraulic resistant of main cooling circuit too low, total coolant flow rate rising above safety limit. Steam void in core is falling, reactivity is decreasing. Must remove more absorber rods.

Danger, coolant channels filled with water, water close to saturation temperature. If temperature or pressure changes, steam void formation will produce positive reactivity.

Most absorbers out of the core, can’t stop the reactivity effects of the steam void formation.

01:22.30 am
Computer calculating number of rods required to keep operation stable.
Estimated time of results: 15 minutes, too long...

01:23.04 am
Turbine stopped, vales closed. All four pumps begin to run down. Steam void pressure critical.

01:23.40 am
Operator had pressed emergency shutdown button. No effect.

01:23.43 am
Reactor critical. Power excursion rate emergency signals on, power now over 530mwt.

01:24 am
Severe shocks; reactor control and protection system rods stopped moving. Too much heat, rods deformed and stuck, can’t reach the lower limit stop switches; power switch off clutch mechanisms is off.

Steam explosion had blown off reactor lid and roof, oxygen in-rush ignites graphite fire. Reactor is lost. Gigantic cloud over the complex, it glows. Metallic taste in my mouth, thousands of needles on my skin...”

Second Incident

Pravda, 13.04.2009
“Fears were again raised in Chernobyl last night, with confirmed reports of an explosion emanating from the Chernobyl region. Coming, as they did, over twenty years after the 1986 accident, the timing had led to denials by Ukrainian officials that safeguards implemented then have in any way been compromised.”

The second incident, when it occurred, was perhaps even more surprising than the first. Of all the internationally renowned scientists involved in the cleanup of Chernobyl not one would have expected even the slightest rumbling to occur within the massive concrete sarcophagus that had tamed Reactor 4. Not expecting, however, is a far cry from not occurring and the explosion, when it shattered the early hours, showed just how shallow Chernobyl’s grave of fear was. If the first explosion saw the end of the Soviet Union and the cold war, the second would see the beginnings of something even more terrifying. The immediate effects of the blast were difficult to observe, even more to understand but within years the Zone around Chernobyl was starting to attract a group of people convinced that prosperity lay in the ravaged land. These people, a missed bunch by any standards, came to known as Stalkers.

Official Zone Analysis, Commissioned 16.06.2014
“...the local mercenaries, known to many as Stalkers, are not to be tolerated by this administration. The response vectors detailed in this report are intended to slow, reduce and eventually eliminate their effectiveness in our jurisdiction.”

Part Four

The Zone consisted of three areas. There was the Centre which was centred on the old Chernobyl Reactor; next was the Forbidden Area which encircled the Reactor Complex and extended several kilometres beyond Pripyat City, this area for all practical purposes had not been explored; finally there was the Cordon which was a relatively safe area that extended several more kilometres beyond the unexplored area. The Cordon, to most Stalkers, was a wide valley that ran for several kilometres from the Military’s Exclusion Zone border all the way up to the Red Forrest.
About two kilometres along the main highway, which once ran through to Pripyat City, beyond the Military’s Outpost is the Village: actually it was more a collection of buildings than a real village, but it suited the Stalkers as the closest thing to one. The Village was home of rookie Stalkers and the Trader, Sidorovich. He lived in an old Cold War fallout bunker.

Sidorovich sat behind his counter, which was behind a sturdy security door and hatch. A thick metal door which resembled the bulk-head doors on submarines could be opened electronically from where he sat. He felt safe from the Zone and from the Stalkers he sometimes stiffed on the price of artefacts. He was growing quite rich and fat off the miserable discards of humanity that ended-up becoming Stalkers. They always came here looking for something better, some way to get rich quick. It was never going to happen. They always hoped that they could earn enough to go home to their families and live long happy lives. It was never going to happen. Once you got here you never left the Zone, or if you did the Zone never left you. Sidorovich had accepted this a long time ago, but he had an escape plan for himself. He had been paying off various members of the local Military and was quite satisfied that they would help him when he was ready to leave and return to the real world.
The Stalker walked down the steps and could see Sidorovich sat behind his counter eating what looked like chicken. It had been a long time since the Stalker had eaten chicken. In fact it had been a long time since he had eaten anything other than bread, tourist’s delight, diet sausage and Cossack Vodka. If things had been different he would have agreed to do almost any job Sidorovich had just for some chicken. Maybe he could trade this unconscious Stalker for some chicken.
‘What have you got?’ Sidorovich asked without turning to face the Stalker.
‘I have a body. It came from the Death Truck and it bears the mark.’ The Stalker told him.
‘Well you know the drill. Put him ...’
‘This one is alive!’ The Stalker didn’t let the Trader finish.
‘Let the Zone take me if I lie.’
‘Quickly put him here.’ Sidorovich swept his counter clean of rubbish and clicked the button to open the security door. The Stalker dumped the unconscious body on the counter and Sidorovich began to search the man’s pockets. He eventually pulled out a PDA that was more advanced than the Stalker’s own. Sidorovich switched it on and was astonished to see what was written on the screen.


This is was very interesting. Sidorovich knew this Strelok, or rather had known him before he had vanished when he had headed north into the Unexplored Area.
‘For this I will give you...’ Sidorovich never got to finish as the unconscious Stalker woke up and grabbed the PDA out of Sidorovich’s greasy fat fingers and slumped back into unconsciousness. The Trader stood back in shock. It was then that he first saw the mark that he knew had to be somewhere on this Stalker’s body. Tattooed along his right arm were the same letters that had been discovered on other bodies from crashed Death Trucks. It was a simple seven letter word written in Western script, and each letter was followed by a full stop: S.T.A.L.K.E.R. So this one was a real Marked One and he was alive. This one had obviously been to the Centre and had survived. Sidorovich wondered how he could use this. How could this pay off for him.
  07:58:36  4 November 2008
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On forum: 04/06/2008
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Excellent mate, great narration
  09:20:29  4 November 2008
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Albanian Monsteя!


On forum: 10/05/2008
Messages: 918
Nice one just pay attention if you want to really publish that don't use words such as *FUCK* it's not very aesthetic. and some parts have been skipped from the intro video such as the one Bullshit you are lying.
Let the Zone take me if I am
  16:23:28  4 November 2008
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The Lazy Writer


On forum: 10/21/2008
Messages: 5198
thank you - its very welcome
  14:54:25  5 January 2009
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On forum: 01/04/2009
Messages: 7
Hurry up with the continuation.. Can't wait to read this again.
  21:13:00  29 January 2009
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Senior Resident

On forum: 10/17/2008

Message edited by:
01/29/2009 21:13:57
Messages: 576

Ever since I've been playing Stalker:SoC I've been tinkering with the idea of writing a full blown novel based on the game (and on CS) - so far I've written the prologue basing it on the movie from the game, and the manual that comes with it - let me know what you think:

Good stuff, maybe GSC could help you publish. If you live in the US you'd be the first to publish something STALKER related. As far as I know.
  18:32:27  4 May 2009
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The Lazy Writer


On forum: 10/21/2008

Message edited by:
05/04/2009 19:21:46
Messages: 5198
I'm a Very Lazy Writer

Ok - I haven't actually looked at this for sometime - I was downloading a mod for SOC, and I'm replaying the game using the OL mod, so I thought "why not do a bit more". Please remember this is just a first draft.

Cordon – First Days

When I first woke all I could see was the ceiling, peeling plaster, black mould growing up the walls. I tried to rise but everything hurt too much. All I could manage was to twist my head slightly and this brought a wave of nausea. I could see a cut-down oil barrel someone had thrown a load of wood into and set it ablaze, a window with no glass and the side of the building was missing. Not much! Not much for a first memory!
‘Ah, good you’re awake!’ The voice was gruff and belonged to a man sat in a chair on the other side of the fire. He wore a dark green combat suit, with a hood, what looked like an attached bulletproof vest with lots of pockets and he carried an ancient AKSU that used to be issued to the tank drivers in the old Soviet days. ‘Sidorovich guessed you may wake up today.’ He stood up and moved his chair closer to the bed. ‘Do you know where you are? Do you know what your name is?’ I tried to tell him but nothing came to mind. No idea about where I was. And my name was a blank space where my life should have been. I tried to tell him this but my voice wouldn’t come out. My throat was dry, my lips cracked.
‘Don’t try to talk. I’m guessing that you have no memory.’ I tried a faint nod and it felt like my head was going to fall off. However, it seems that he understood what I was trying to say. ‘It’s as we thought. It seems that you are a very lucky man Marked One. I am Wolf and we will talk more when you’re up and around.’ At this point he faded away and the world turned black.

Over the next week I grew stronger. I was bought food and water twice a day but was mostly left to myself. After three days I was up and moving about. After five days I was feeling nervous and restless. The few Stalkers I spoke to called me the same thing that Wolf called me, Marked One. I had no idea why, but one name is just as good as another when you have no memory at all. Obviously I had some memory: I could walk, I could talk (eventually), I could breathe, write and I apparently knew Georgian, Russian and English, as these where the main languages spoken by the various Stalkers in the Village, I also had a smattering of French and Spanish, but I wouldn’t have tried to hold a discussion on any subject in either language. Yet who I was, where I had come from and how I had gotten to the Village where all a complete blank. But, I was ready to get out of my “hospital” and I wanted to find out who I was and where I had come from.
Wolf came to see me again.
He down again in the chair that he sat before and I sat upon my cot.
‘I am glad to see you are up and about. You look like you’ll be ready to leave us shortly. Sidorovich will want to talk to you. He’s sees it as you owe him! He has kept you a live for the last week, something he has never done to my knowledge.’ Wolf looked about him, stretched his arms out. He looked like he had been awake for some time. ‘I’m not going to give you any advice as far as the Fat Man is concerned, just be careful as I’m sure he wants to use you.’ I just nodded.
Wolf stood up, ‘I have a couple of jobs for you if you are interested. Jobs that’ll help Stalkers and they pay well, come and see me when you’ve talked to Sidorovich and see if you’re interested. Oh, I guess you’re going to need these, oh and keep the sleeping bag.’ He tossed an old a-frame rucksack at me as he left.
I opened the rucksack and found a good pair of boots, tough, loose fitting jeans, a t-shirt, a thick jumper and old, oiled jacket with a hood. They were the usual clothes that I had seen rookie Stalkers wearing. I guessed they were what Sidorovich sold to them. I also found some basic medical equipment, a knife, a pair of military binoculars, and an old but serviceable Makarov and about twenty rounds of ammo. It was basically a complete Stalker start-up kit. It made me think. Why where these people helping me? What had I done to deserve this?

I found out why I was deserving of the help that evening.
A couple of experienced Stalkers had set-up camp in the house next door to mine. As usual the vodka was passed around and tongues began to wag. At first I couldn’t hear anything, but alcohol not only loosens tongues it also raises volume. Soon I could hear every word. The talked about the Zone mostly, little things about various areas to avoid, places where there could be treasure, good artefact sites. The swapped anecdotes about people and places, events that they all really knew about. Most of what they said seemed to cast echoes in my poor excuse for a memory. Things that were almost memories began to stir. However, I didn’t get a chance to push my memory any further as the Stalkers mentioned my name. Well obviously not my name as no-one knew what it was, but they mentioned me, I was the only Marked One in the village. They were talking about the Wish Granter said to lie at the heart of the Zone in the old NPP Sarcophagus, and one of them said I had probably seen it.
Then they said that the Marked Ones came out of the deep Zone in the Death Trucks, they were all dead and a good place to find some useful gear, if you could find a crashed Death Truck. So I was a survivor from a Death Truck. The Stalkers mentioned a tattoo on the arms of the Marked Ones and I pulled the arms of my jacket and jumper up to find the tattoo they were talking about. So I was the impossible: I had returned from the Centre of the Zone. I had been where no-one else had been. But to these men I wasn’t a hero. I was to be pitied. I had lost everything: my friends, my group (those men you scavenged with, shared you camp fire with, and shared your food with), my memories and, apparently, probably my life at some point.
So of the rookies thought I was the undead returned to steal people’s souls.

I had a very disturbed night sleep that night. The first of the dreams happened. I woke up twice screaming and found Wolf there watching over me. Screaming in your sleep can get you killed far too easily in the Zone.
I’m assuming that I’d had these dreams before as Wolf had a look on his face as if this was something he had done for me before. However, this was the first time I had remembered it.
I’m in a field and the Chernobyl NPP is huge and so close I could almost reach out and touch it. It looks to large, too solid. There’s a man, a Stalker in a long coat that Bandits seem to like. The Stalker has his back to me and everything around us is perfectly still. There’s no wind, no sound, not a single blade of grass moves. Then a wind picks up from the direction of the NPP and there’s a noise of thousands of things running. Thousands of small things on many feet running away from something. Suddenly thousands of rats explode out of the undergrowth and pour down the hill towards the Stalker. Suddenly I’m standing right behind the Stalker and his head is turning slowly to towards me, and I know he knows I’m watching. That’s when I wake, every single time. I never saw his face. I kind of hoped I never would.

Cordon – Day 1

When I wake Wolf has gone and my PDA, the only thing I have left from when I was found, is beeping at me. I detach the wireless earpiece, fit and press the go button for messages. The message is from Sidorovich, Wolf was right, he wanted to see me.

I found the Fat Man behind his counter in his bunker which is a few yards from the west edge of the village. He was sat back under a single strip light just so there was no chance of seeing all the goodies he had stashed in the back of his “shop”.
‘So Marked One, you owe me. Ok!’ I nodded. ‘You do some things for me and I’ll try and help you out. If you want to try and find out who you are and who this Strelok character is why you have to kill him, you are going to need some money and some better equipment than that bunch of wannabe shit that Wolf gave you. And I may be able to help you with your amnesia, but we’ll see. Course you could see me that PDA and it’ll make us even. Didn’t think so! Ok, well here goes. You work or you starve from now on.’
‘I get it.’ I said. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Oh, don’t worry Marked One I won’t send you on anything too difficult your first time out. I sent out a couple of lads a few days ago to pick up a flash drive for me, from a contact I have with the Military. Anyway, you don’t need to know the whole story, but they’re late coming back. I got a message that they’re back in the valley but nothing since yesterday morning. Wolf may have some more information, for some reason the other Stalkers would rather talk to him than me. Anyway go see him.’
And that was it I worked for the Fat Man now. At least for a little while. Maybe this job and a couple of others would make us square. We would see.
I left the bunker and walked back into the village and found Wolf.
‘You were right!’ I told him, ‘he wants me to go find Nimble and get a flash drive off him. I guess he thinks that Nimble’s in trouble.’ Wolf smiled.
‘He is in trouble. Some bandits pinched him as he was travelling back with ...... I have a couple of the lads who are usually here waiting on a hill overlooking the Autopark where the bandits are holed up. Bastards want to try and ransom him.’ Wolf asked me to show him the GPS map on my PDA. He used the PDA’s stylus to mark where the Autopark was and where his boys where waiting. ‘We’re also getting a distress signal from here’, it was a couple of hundred yards from the Village. ‘We got it a couple of hours after my lads left and I can’t send anyone else without compromising security. Can you check it out on your way? My boys are holding radio silence so I can’t ask them to check it out.’ What the hell I thought. I had no idea what was out there. In for a penny as they say.

The road down the middle of the Village is just a bit of a dirt track that runs off the main two lane blacktop. I stood on the road looking north and south. With the binoculars on full magnification I could just make out the Military Check Point from which the Army sent out very irregular patrols. To the north was the railway line and the rest of the Zone.
I had stooped here so that I could get a good luck at the Zone. As far as I knew it was my first look.
It was still. The sky has that shade of eggshell blue you get in the mornings of late spring. Hardly any clouds hung in the sky. The fields surrounding the road was all over grown with grass, weeds and various trees and bushes. It was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. The scene seemed to calm me inside. I felt very peaceful, like I had not felt since I had woken up for the first time. It all looked so right. I could see a small field of anomalies a few hundred yards from the road to the north of the Village. The air seemed to shimmer a few feet above the ground. In a couple of spots a globular patch of air, about three feet across pulsated in an out sending short lived shock waves that were visible in the air.
I felt odd.
For the first time since I awoke I felt at home.
  09:09:13  10 May 2009
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Good Work

I've been waiting for the continuation for months now. Hope you continue this till the end. Keep up the Good Work!
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