About ten minutes or a little more later, I was already heading to Orest's base. This day promised to be busy, so I was leaving the former Research Institute in a bit of a hurry, not even paying attention to the shooting range, where I could undoubtedly have earned some good money. After saying goodbye to the
guards, I leave the Dolg territory through the northern checkpoint.
I take the assault rifle off my shoulder and grip it firmly in my hands, carefully scanning the path ahead. Blooming, fragrant greenery, breaking through the old asphalt in places, adorned the road leading to the right, on both sides, and a few trees in the form of small oaks and maples hid gentle hills spread across the entire Agroprom territory.
I walk forward slowly, constantly turning my head from side to side and listening to what's happening around. Somewhere in the distance, dogs barked, either sensing possible prey or trying to scare away a dangerous predator. They were echoed by birds invisible to my eyes, whose melodious trill sounded from small roadside bushes and tree crowns. But soon the birds were startled by the roar of automatic gunfire, which erupted from somewhere to the north; it was a detachment of loners heading to Yantar, fighting off the zombified.
At some point, I reach one of the arch-anomalies located here. I stop for a moment and approach to examine it more closely. Lumps of frozen, brown-black earth, like someone's sharp claws, were raised to the sky and almost touched each other. And between them, almost imperceptibly, the rounded edges of gravitational anomalies shimmered. Beyond the anomalous zone, almost in close proximity, lay a small makeshift camp consisting of a stretched tent and several boxes that served as shelter. And then I notice a familiar head peeking out from behind a box.
"Oh, Executioner! Hey!" he greets me loudly, coming out from behind the boxes and walking closer, followed by two other stalkers. "And our guys were looking for you yesterday when your guys returned alone."
"Well, it happened. Business, you know," I smile, shaking hands with the stalkers from Bely's group. "And what are you doing here, and without the boss?"
"Well, since you've sorted things out with the bandits, we decided to go through the anomalies and earn some money," explains the lanky stalker with a light fuzz above his lips. "And Bely is busy for now, developing a plan with Orest and Ozhog for the upcoming brawl."
"Glad to hear it," I nod. "Alright, guys, good luck to you. We'll meet again."
"Yeah, and good luck to you too!"
"To hell with it."
After bowing to the guys, I continue my journey to the factory. Walking a few meters, I cast a last glance and see the stalkers, using detectors and bolts, cautiously entering the anomalous field. Chuckling, I rush onward. I walk along the road, avoiding rare anomalies, until I come across a rust-darkened hulk of a ZIL, filled with some barrels.
I go around the pile of scrap metal in a wide arc on the left side, already seeing an opening in the factory's concrete fence, when a small pack of blind dogs runs out of the nearby bushes with loud, ringing barks, apparently deciding that a lone stalker would be an excellent meal. I half-turn, leading the barrel of the assault rifle behind the body, and a short burst from the Kalash stops their dash. The already dead animal carcasses, by inertia, cover another half a meter before their muzzles imprint into the greenery spread across the meadow. I step over the carcass of a blind dog, which almost touched my boot with its mangy muzzle, and walk straight towards the stalkers from Orest's group, who decided to look out at the shooting that erupted right at their base.
"Nicely done," one of the guards whistles, scratching the back of his head. "They want to see you, Orest. When you arrive."
"Understood," I reply, stepping over a small concrete protrusion. "I'll drop by now."
I walk around the tall, rectangular building with wide, barred windows on the right side. I pass heavy blocks stacked on top of each other, a rotten truck, and find myself in the central building of the factory. Under its arches, I find my own squad, standing by the stairs. Seeing me, they cheered up considerably.
"Good morning," I greet them. "How did you rest?"
"How did we rest," Batut grumbles after a slight nod. "Boring, that's how. We could have sat by the fire, eaten canned food with pasta and drunk vodka back at Cordon."
"Don't get worked up," Nemoy stops him, placing his hand on his comrade's shoulder and squeezing it tightly. "But... he's right. The guys here are good, and many, as I understood, owe you, so they treated us well too..."
"But I'd like a real job, not just sitting on my ass," Brick interjected, and his brother nodded in agreement.
"Ha," I exhale in surprise, raising my eyebrows and looking at my brave subordinates. "Well, there is indeed a job."
"What is it?" one of the brothers exhales impatiently, stepping forward.
"Here's the deal," I begin to speak in a low voice. "Valerian tasked me with negotiating for help from Duty, and I spoke with their leader today. He's agreed to provide men, but we need to deal with a mutant. A pseudogiant."
"Pseudo... what?" Batut asks, looking at the other teammates. "You don't know?"
"First time I've heard of it," I reply, to which Brick and Trotyl nod silently.
"Nothing surprising," I chuckle. "It's a very rare and dangerous mutant. I already have a plan for its elimination, we'll discuss the details after I get something necessary for it. Wait here."
Third floor, Orest's office.
The leader of the local stalkers sat at the head of a wide table, with Ozhog to his right and Bledny to his left. They were intently looking at the bright screen of a communicator lying in front of them, reading something. Besides the PDA, there were three metal, slightly bent mugs on the table, with fragrant steam of black tea swirling from them. Orest was about to pick up the device to reply to an incoming message, but I distracted him.
"Greetings. You wanted to see me, Orest."
"Ah, I'm glad you came," the stalker leader smiles gently, standing up from his chair and approaching me, hugging me tightly. "Thank you for what you did."
"You're welcome," I reply after the stalker steps away from me.
"Oh, there's a reason," Bledny chuckles with satisfaction, leaning back in his creaky chair and almost falling, waving his hands absurdly, which caused general laughter.
"Be careful, brother," Ozhog says, having finished laughing, his face slightly flushed. "And to you, Palach, and your guys - a real thank you. You didn't let us down."
"Just like your automatic rifle didn't let me down," I smile. "So, what did you want from me?"
"It's yours by right," Orest claps me on the shoulder and, turning on his heels, walks to the window, clasping his hands behind his back. "Nothing much, my friend. I just wanted to thank you and say that we are all at your service if you ever need any help."
"I want to visit the Hermit."
"The Hermit?" Orest asks in surprise. "He's not part of my group, so I have no authority over him. It's up to him whether he wants to see you. Honestly, I don't quite understand why you..."
"I don't know how to get to him," I explain, wanting to know if the location of the person I needed had changed.
"Ah, that's it, ha," the stalker leader exhales with a chuckle. "Come here."
I take a few measured steps towards the window and stand to Orest's left. Only now do I look closely at his features. Dark, or rather, tanned skin, expressive green eyes, thick eyebrows, a nose with a slight hump, and a thin line of chapped lips, curved into a slight smile. He has dark, medium-length hair with streaks of gray appearing in places. The stalker himself is tall, almost my height, and lean. It gives the impression that I am facing another ordinary stalker, which was far from the case. A person who has hitchhiked across Europe and spent a winter with the Chukchi in Kamchatka cannot be a "gray mouse." For me, he is one of the most memorable characters in the entire series, despite his insignificance to the overall story.
"Here," Orest's calm voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and his hand points towards four tanks. "Between those tanks, there's an open sewer hatch, you'll go down the ladder and find yourself at the Hermit's. I'll tell you right away, he's a good person, though a bit peculiar."
"Okay, thanks for the help," I nod, heading for the ladder.
"What business do you have with him?" Ozhog asks me quietly as my foot touches the first step.
"I want to borrow something from him. Goodbye, men."
Meanwhile, the first floor.
A group of stalkers was to the right of the central staircase leading to the upper floors. Some were squatting, some were leaning their backs against the wall, and some were pacing back and forth in front of their comrades, but they were all thinking about one thing. About the real job they would finally get to participate in. About hunting an unknown mutant.
"I wonder what kind of beast it is," Trotyl says, as if savoring the name of the mutant unknown to him on his lips. "Pseudogiant."
"We'll see," Batut shrugs. "It's a bit scary, though, to crawl into the mouth of an unknown creature, but they say Palach is an experienced hunter. And he has a plan."
"By the way, since this giant is 'pseudo,' doesn't that mean the mutant itself isn't very large?" Brick suddenly voices his thought, but the answer comes just as unexpectedly.
"You're partly right," Palach, who appeared out of nowhere on the steps, replies calmly. "A pseudogiant is indeed not huge, an adult specimen reaches only about two meters in height, but it is still significantly more massive than a human."
"And how much does it weigh?"
"From a ton to two, depending on luck," their commander exhales, descending. "I'm going to visit another person, and based on the results of this meeting, we'll decide what to do. Don't get bored."
After watching Palach's receding back, the stalkers turn their wide eyes to each other. What have they gotten themselves into?
Agroprom Factory Courtyard, same time.
I turn the corner, pass under a covered gallery,
and find myself in a small square in front of a platform with abandoned freight cars. In front of me are stacked slabs, behind them an old tractor with chipped paint and flat tires, and a little further – a small rectangular building, wires from which stretch to the factory buildings. To the left of this substation is a long grate, which abuts a brick wall, broken in its right part.
I step over a high curb onto soft ground, go around one of the four huge tanks, and stumble upon another entrance to the Agroprom underground. In the middle of a concrete protrusion, a metal ladder is visible, rusty, but still strong-looking. I cautiously descend it, and a long corridor with rounded walls and ceiling appears before my eyes.
Directly opposite me, massive iron rods protrude from the wall, on which wires hang, streaming along the entire length of this peculiar room. To the right is a huge blockage, and on the left side, the Hermit is located.
I step softly on the chipped floor until I reach a small wooden partition opposite a firmly closed bunker door, and peek out from behind it. The stalker I was looking for, paying no attention to me, was watching the sparks of a blazing fire, the smoke of which went into a peculiar ventilation system of barely rotating iron blades with a creak under the very ceiling in a rounded opening.
Behind the Hermit, another blockage was visible, on the stones of which mattresses with a blue, stiff blanket were piled on top of each other. On both sides of the stalker were all sorts of boxes with utensils on them, and by one of the walls, there was even an improvised table made of a couple of barrels and several boards, on which the weapon I so desperately needed lay.
"Hello, Hermit," I greet him, approaching closer and crouching opposite the fire.
"What brings you here, living soul?" the stalker asks slowly, directing the gaze of his attentive gray eyes at me. His elongated and absolutely calm face indicated that this person was not at all surprised by my arrival.
"I need your help with something. What do you want for the grenade launcher?"
"Straight to the point, then," he chuckles. "I see you're in a hurry. And you shouldn't be. However, all homo sapiens are subject to this pernicious fuss... I'll help you, so be it. I'll give it to you for your promise to help me, Shaman's apprentice."
"You know me?"
"Don't strain yourself so much," the Hermit grins. "And don't grab your weapon, I'm not your enemy. To answer your question... I don't know you. Yet. But I know your teacher, he was here recently... He told me he taught something to a stalker in the big swamps. I see that it was you. Well, are you willing to make such a deal with me?"
"What kind of help will you need from me?" I ask him grimly, calming down a little.
"Nothing burdensome for you, living soul," the stalker replies. "Just bring something from the local swamps and chat a bit. It's not often, you know, that you see initiated people in these parts. Take the grenade launcher."
"And the grenades?"
"I only have three of them, so I'll give them to you for ten thousand each."
"The grenade launcher for free, and the rounds for it for money?" I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
"I have to live on something," the Hermit shrugs, stretching the corners of his lips into a satisfied grin. "You can't get by on mutual help alone."
At the foot of the eastern hill, an hour later.
"Questions?" Palach asks grimly, with a grenade launcher on his shoulder, to his subordinates after explaining the plan of further actions.
"So," Brick says timidly, holding two large cumulative grenades in his hands. "We just stand nearby while you shoot at the mutant with the rocket launcher, and I hand you the shells?"
"Yes. The rest cover us," their commander replies. "Ready?"
After a unified nod, the squad of five people begins to ascend the gentle slope of a low hill. Straight to where the pseudogiant's lair was. After a couple of minutes of unhurried walking, they cover the last meters separating them from the mutant, and, to the surprise of the anxious men, they see nothing.
The top of the hill was littered with a cluster of large boulders, a few dozen meters from the ascended stalkers. A little further away were sparse trees. Palach, chuckling softly, boldly takes a couple of steps forward, squats on his right knee, and begins to prepare to fire.
"Batut, a burst over the stones, everyone else on alert," the commander orders after cocking the hammer and releasing the safety. "Let's wake this creature up."
Swallowing a lump in his throat, the stalker obediently opens fire, striking a couple of sparks from the bullets hitting the boulders. Almost immediately, a deafening and hoarse roar is heard, comparable in volume to the roar of a dozen tin throats. Then the earth trembled, and from behind the largest stone, a huge and disgustingly ugly mass of muscle slowly appeared. The monster was barely two meters tall, but with every movement of its thick paws, entwined with cords of steel muscles, the hill literally trembled. Its teardrop-shaped torso with bulging veins under thick, brown skin ended in a small tail and a foot, small compared to the rest of its body, dangling a couple of centimeters from the grass.
The mutant, not immediately noticing the sudden intruders into its peace, rushes forward with astonishing speed, pushing off the ground with its paws. Seeing the huge, angry mass of the monster rushing at them, the stalkers almost flinched, subconsciously feeling that if they turned and ran, the pseudogiant would catch and tear them apart.
"Sh-sh-sh!" the first projectile rushes towards the mutant with a piercing whistle. "Bang!"
Exploding with a loud sound, the grenade managed to stop the monster. As if hitting an invisible step, it stumbles and falls, its bloody muzzle in the grass. But this was not enough for the mighty mutant. Letting out a bone-chilling wail, full of pain and anger, the pseudogiant lifts its crippled and blinded "head" from the ground with shreds of flesh torn by shrapnel and visible bones, miraculously withstanding the first blow, and attacks with even greater fury.
"Sh-sh-sh!" the second projectile flies, hitting directly into the mutant's open mouth. "Bang!"
The grenade explodes right in the monster's maw, scattering large bloody chunks across the clearing. The pseudogiant was defeated.
"M-mother!.." Batut exhales hoarsely.