I grab the long-timer by the arm and help him up, carefully examining the stalker we saved. He's a little disoriented and disheveled, his suit is slightly scratched, but he doesn't seem to be wounded. Then I shift my gaze to the clearing in front of the wide pit dug by the mutants, and I can't help but whistle. The brave Duty members, before their deaths, took down about a dozen and a half snorks, if not more.
"How are you?" I ask the stalker, who is now kneeling before one of his comrades' corpses.
"I'll live, thank you," he sighs deeply, covering the dead eyes with his palm, and a betraying moisture appears on his face.
"I'm sorry we didn't make it in time," I continue cautiously, moving closer and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "But... business doesn't wait. Is there anything we need to know before we go in there?"
"No, nothing," he shakes his head, standing up. Then he turns to me and takes a few magazines for his Kalashnikov from his pouch. "Here, show these creatures a thing or two. And be careful. And I... I'll contact the base and take care of... everything."
"Stay strong, man," I say, gripping his shoulder firmly with my palm, shaking him slightly. "Their deaths were not in vain, we will avenge these creatures."
The long-timer just nods slowly and smiles weakly as tears well up in his eyes again. It was clear how much his comrades' deaths affected him, and I sincerely felt sorry for him. But business really doesn't wait, Shram is already almost in the hole. I leave the stalker alone with himself and approach the mercenary.
"Done talking?" he throws over his shoulder, glancing back at me briefly. Shram is now squatting and peering into the tunnel with a small flashlight.
"How rude you are," I sigh, taking off my backpack and pulling out a headlamp. "I just wanted to support him a little, he's had a tough lot. Well, shall we go?"
The mercenary silently takes a headlamp from the pocket of his blue and white suit, clips it to his forehead, and in a half-crouch, single file, heads forward into the tunnel, holding his assault rifle in front of him. I follow right behind him. The further we advanced, the wetter the ground became, and my boots slowly began to sink into the mud. We walked quite slowly, occasionally hitting the walls or ceiling of this earthen passage, and it took several good minutes to cover more than ten meters before we finally reached our destination.
Suddenly, the tunnel widens, until it turns into a small cave with several dark and narrow passages around the perimeter. In the left corner, after a slight rise, a small depression is visible, from which light seeps. Looking warily at the dug passages, we cautiously head towards the entrance to the catacombs themselves. Shram carefully jumps onto the concrete floor, moves aside a bit, giving me space to jump, and raises his assault rifle, scanning the long corridor for enemies, but so far everything is clear.
Jumping down after him, I also start looking around. A long, wide, and winding corridor leading to the left. Under the ceiling, there are plenty of pipes of various shapes and a few, surprisingly, still working elongated lamps, flickering occasionally. Most of them have long been broken, so the lighting here is quite dim. On the floor, there's a lot of long-abandoned debris, remnants of bones, and even a couple of skulls. Among other things, in some places the floor is covered with an acidic green liquid, bubbling ominously. A little further from us, small dark alcoves are visible on both sides. As far as I remember, it's from there that the snorks will crawl out. I turn around and see a large grate behind us, closing off the passage to another part of this corridor. Convenient, we definitely won't get lost.
Shram, standing a little ahead, raises his hand with a clenched fist, drawing my attention, then slowly begins to move forward, carefully placing his feet. He doesn't want to attract the snorks with noise, so he's being so cautious? Well, maybe it'll work out.
I walk right behind the mercenary, step by step. And the first few meters go quite well, but with each moment, I feel more and more uneasy. The loud squeaking of rats, running in front of us from time to time, the dangerous proximity of acidic anomalies, incomprehensible grinding and rustling sounds coming from the darkness, and the cherry on top was the hum emanating from the pipes. Intellectually, I understand that these are just the sounds of water and vibrations, but the atmosphere of this place makes me doubt the correctness of my decision. Why did I agree to help Shram so quickly and easily? Didn't I know what awaited me here? Did I overestimate my own strength and not even think about what it could lead to? I don't know. But it's too late to turn back, and the System is helping me stay in a relatively calm state. But the atmosphere here is very oppressive, especially since snorks are about to attack us.
Meeting mutants, though I expected it, was still a surprise. We slowly moved forward, illuminating the dim corridor and the dark recesses in its walls. Shram confidently went ahead, carefully examining every corner, until at some point he missed one of them, not even brushing it with a drop of light from his flashlight. I don't know if it was confidence that most of the mutants had fallen on the surface, and there were very few left here, and even then they were somewhere far away, or if it was simple carelessness, but it was still necessary to check that nook. I turn my head, moving the beam of light with its movement, and snatch a sleepy, curled-up snork from the darkness. For a moment I freeze in place, but I still pull myself together and kill it with a precise shot to the head before it could get up and turn towards us.
"What are you..." Shram whispers loudly, sharply turning around and seeing the snork I killed. At that moment, the hum of the shot finally passes through the entire corridor and completely wakes its inhabitants. "Run!"
We run headlong, jumping over small obstacles in the form of small and medium puddles of anomalous jelly, the remains of someone's dead bodies, and other trash. Here, two snorks immediately jump out of another dark opening, which Shram cuts down with a burst on the fly. I have to try to dodge without losing pace. And then a saving ladder appears, going up into the ceiling. The mercenary speeds up to jump onto it, but due to a huge grate behind the ladder, several more mutants appear, whom I eliminate this time with a long burst.
Shram climbs the ladder in a few seconds, disappearing from view, and I finally grab the rusty, damp iron bars. I quickly move my legs and hands to get rid of the snorks as soon as possible, but at the last moment something grabs my right leg with great force, almost twisting it, and pulls me down. I have to squeeze my palms even harder so as not to fall, and I look down. It was a son of a bitch snork, which was lucky enough to grab my boot in a jump. The creature writhed and twisted, trying in every way to pull me off the ladder. Damn it! I'm barely holding on, I can't grab my weapon, as soon as I unclench my fingers, I'll fall down immediately. Then, in the opening above, Shram's figure appears with a pistol-holding hand extended downwards, and the mercenary shoots the creature dangling on me and helps me climb up.
Finally, away from the snorks, I catch my breath and slowly examine this small room. Cracked walls, mold-infested, floor of worn red tiles. In the far corner from me, a barred door with a burning yellow light bulb above it. Opposite it are two cisterns stacked on top of each other, slightly to the left is a locked door made of red-painted planks, and to my right is a huge shelving unit, almost the length of the entire room and as high as the ceiling.
"Thanks," I exhale hoarsely to the mercenary, who is now examining some small boxes on the shelves.
"Yeah," he replies. "Didn't hurt your leg?"
"Seems not," I say, then stand up and walk around the room a bit. "No, everything is fine."
"That's good," Shram says thoughtfully this time. "Rest is... And what is this?"
The grate in the far right corner trembled as if someone had hit it, after which a dirty and emaciated hand crawled through the bars and, grabbing the latch, somehow opened it. We simultaneously raise our assault rifles, aiming at the passage, when a swaying dolgovets with a jerky gait slowly appears there. A dirty, smeared, and torn black-and-red jumpsuit, cloudy
eyes staring into nowhere, and a dropped jaw. The zombie drags itself along the floor and tries to raise its weapon at us, but my precise shot knocks out the remnants of its brains, painting the wall behind it a dark crimson color. The dead man himself falls forward, hitting his face on the tile with all his might. A nasty crunch of a broken nose is heard, and the mercenary and I exchange glances.
"I didn't think zombies could open doors," I whisper quietly, looking directly into the surprised mercenary's eyes.
"They can't," he replies, shifting his gaze to the deceased. "Usually."
"Usually?" I ask.
"Yes, they get so stupid from psi-radiation and radiation that in most cases a closed door is an effective countermeasure, so as not to waste ammo," he continues quietly. "But sometimes someone scarier than the zombies themselves helps them."
"A Controller?"
"Heard of it, huh?" Shram grins wryly, checking the ammo in his magazine. "We're unlucky that such a creature has settled here. But going back is not an option, so we'll break through. The plan is this: first, we'll deal with the zombies, they won't go forward anyway. Their brethren mostly prefer to sit on the sidelines, catching careless stalkers while their loyal 'dogs' do all the dirty work. So look out carefully and don't yawn, the controller needs a direct look at you to attack."
"Understood," I nod, gripping my Kalash tighter.
I step over the zombie and press myself against the wall, peeking out from behind the corner for a moment. And my eyes behold a huge, high room with a domed ceiling. Along the edges of the dome were several still-working spotlights, illuminating the pumping unit in the center of it all and four large concrete water tanks with a fence and similar bridges spanning them. The zombies, about five or six of them, maybe a little more, were gradually approaching our shelter. I'm about to pull my head out of the open space when...
Attention!
An attempt at psi-influence on the user's brain has been suppressed!
My head was squeezed unbearably hard in a steel vise, as if trying to burst it. I involuntarily take a couple of steps back, almost falling on the mercenary, and try to catch my breath. My vision swam, and a nauseating lump rose to my throat, which soon decided to go further. Vomiting a mixture of saliva and bile onto the dirty floor, I begin to feel a little better. The feeling of pressure in my temples gradually passes, and the pain subsides. What the hell was that?
The system has repelled a powerful wave of psi-radiation directed at you, user.
Your sensations are just a side effect.
Be careful until you get protection from this type of influence.
"So that's what it is..." I say quietly with my lips, as Shram nudges me.
"What's wrong with you?" he asks worriedly, holding me tightly by the shoulders.
"The Controller, damn it, managed to hook me," I shake my head, driving away the remnants of its influence on me. "The sensations, I must say, are not pleasant... But we need to act, the zombies are already practically at our shelter."
"Did you notice him?"
"I didn't have time, as soon as my head was squeezed, I immediately moved away."
"Yeah, a situation," Shram sighs, thinking for a moment, and then reaches for a pouch on his jumpsuit and pulls out a grenade. "I suggest we let the zombies get closer, and then use the lemon. The walls should hold. And then we'll lure out this creature."
I nod silently in agreement and step aside a little, taking aim at the doorway just in case. Shram, on the other hand, takes my previous place by the wall and listens carefully to what's happening behind it. The closer the zombified stalkers are to us, the louder the shuffling of boots and moaning mixed with mumbling. A terrible fate – to be an обезличенный piece of meat, however...
At some point, Shram peeks out from behind the corner for a fraction of a second, checks the distance, and pulls the pin from the grenade, throwing it into the doorway. After that, the room shakes from the explosion. The mercenary cautiously peeks out from behind the corner again and fires a few shots, finishing off the wounded.
"Well, now it's time to deal with the mutant," he grins, looking at me. "Are you feeling okay, are your hands not shaking?"
"I'm fine."
"Then listen to me," the mercenary begins to explain his plan. "The creature definitely knows there are two of us. They can see through their victims. So, most likely, it thinks it has incapacitated you. I don't know if you were lucky or just so exceptional, but even such a fleeting contact with the controller should have made you lie on the floor and drool. I know, we once caught one specimen for... Never mind. In general, I'll distract him. I'll run out and lie down by the right concrete side, and you'll wait until the mutant gets closer to me, and then shoot him to hell. I'll give you a signal – don't rush in earlier."
"Are you sure? That's kind of risky," I look at Shram in surprise, because if any minor mistake happens, he'll be dead.
"I know what you're capable of," he smiles, patting me on the shoulder. "It won't be difficult for you to shoot him, so I'm definitely sure. Well, let's go."
With these words, Shram, adjusting his grip on the assault rifle, runs out of this small room and disappears from my field of vision. I cautiously approach the edge of the wall and begin to wait for his sign. My heart beats loudly, even in my ears, from tension. And I have to force myself not to peek out of cover even for a moment. Deep breath in and out. Phew. The seconds drag on incredibly long, as if time has completely stopped, until the mercenary finally shouts.
"Go!" a voice rings out from behind the wall.
And I appear in the doorway with my assault rifle raised, as if in slow motion, watching the controller slowly move with its trembling gait towards Shram, who was lying in a small recess by the right tank. The creature notices me and even tries to turn towards me to attack, but I was faster. A long burst of automatic fire tore through the controller's chest, probably hitting its heart. Because of which it falls on its side like a sack, falling onto the railing of the iron fence.
"Phew, I didn't even have to shoot," my partner says with a slight smile and gets up from the ground, dusting himself off. "Let's go further, the valve should be ahead."
"Wait a minute," I reply, unhooking the axe hanging on my backpack, and walk closer to the fallen mutant. "I have some unfinished business here."