The Exclusion Zone (S.T.A.L.K.E.R.)

[Cheburashka]

@Sushi @DB_Explorer

Talon knew the enigmatic woman she accepted for protection wasn't worth whatever Nazi gold she had hidden away, and no amount of reward would have been worth the presence of the termagant Teuton, anyways. The eerie silence that followed the final chatter of the Schmeisser hit Talon like an impenetrable wall that was only reinforced by the detective's stern warning, and she knew he was right. Like an unwelcome stay at an after party where all your friends had left and the strangers weren't your type, the Belgian knew to turn back. Keep the change, ya filthy animal.

The company of the motley crew wasn't much better, if only from her not having had a chance to pass a bottle with them, yet. Even Dexter, now beside the rusty Soviet car in someone else's clothes, was still obnoxious to her, and his unclean face made him look even goofier. I can't help it, she thought to herself. You got mud on your face, you big disgrace, kicking your can all over the place. She made a motion of wiping her face at him, smiled, then let her face fall flat as she listened in.

This Journalist was full of herself, to Talon, and she kept half of her words behind the white walls of her teeth. Trust fund kid, all the way. Wonder how she got into the shooter business, and I know it wasn't only with a camera. Still, she mused as she paid attention. This job will place us right where we need to be. Not going to pass it up.

She heard the part about them losing a day, and she remembered how more was lost than that, even with one of them ending up in a tree with a different rifle. "Yeah," Talon spoke, finally breaking her silence. "Seems there's more to this place than I'd care to know. I have a question for you, Journalist."

 

[Sushi]

@PanzerWaffles @DB_Explorer
_____Journalist tracked between Talon and Dexter. The mercenary made a prod about the disheveled state of her supposed partner. They all looked haggard, worn-down. "Sometimes the days seem to vanish here, but I'm glad you all made it." The woman pocketed her notes, thumbs hooked into her jeans as a pistol cracked in the distance. One of the better-equipped bandits shot her a glare, and Journalist shrugged.

@Unlucky Bibliophile
_____The veteran stalker eyeballed a battered pair of newcomers. One was a soldier of some kind, albeit, one wearing no identifying marks or patches, although wearing mostly Russian-made modern equipment, and the other was a woman that seemed to be doing her best not to look particular important or noteworthy, despite a ruck sagging with an excess of equipment on her back.

_____Interesting.

_____"... so, I'm guessing you two lost a helicopter in this area not long ago?" After a moment, Journalist turned her attention back to Talon. "And go ahead. What's up?"

 

[Cheburashka]

@Sushi @DB_Explorer

Talon noticed the woman observed her as she poked fun at Dexter, but didn't feel it was from anything malicious. She pays attention, and I need to pay attention to that.

The Belgian looked over at the newcomers, some sort of Slavic army guy in a sterile uniform, and a woman with a massive backpack on her shoulders. They both look like shit. We all look like shit.

Journalist posed a question to them, then acknowledged the question Talon posed, and she looked over at a ventilated corpse nearby. "So, this Agroprom we'd be headed to, what foul things does it have frequent it? Part of our ammunition expenditure came from us not being better informed. Knowledge saves lives," she finished with a tired smile.

 

[dryskim]

"The Agroprom is well settled. Relatively — a lot of the warehouses and basements haven't been cracked by stalkers due to the hazardous conditions, but we know where the danger spots are."

Click to shrink...

Bratok frowned, cradling his carbine. "Why do I get feeling we're going to be investigating these dangerous spots?"

Of course, these danger spots were the least likely to have already been picked clean by scavengers so if the burly Slav wanted to acquire some of his own he'd have to strike out from the Garbage and start taking some risks.

 

[Sushi]

​

@CthuluWasRight @Wizard_Marshall @dryskim @Unlucky Bibliophile @DB_Explorer @PanzerWaffles @Terran Imperium
_____"We shouldn't," Journalist said. "Not unless these people vanished to one of those dangerous places. But you and I know that people die in safe places all the time." The woman hooked her thumbs into her pockets. "You all can shoot straight, right? I see dead stalkers and dead dogs. That's about par for the course around here. You're going to learn how to save ammo with practice." Journalist turned and leaned against the hood of the merc.

_____"I saw the bodies around the place, they had the black coats the bandits wear, the same kind of guns. They're probably Lost Stalkers — normal stalkers that went off their rocker for whatever reason as they explored the zone. They come back blasting away at anything they see, even their friends and family, and you get battles like this. You know you're fighting a lost stalker because they don't ambush you like bandits or the military, they walk right into your camp and start shooting. Rumor says they don't feel pain or know fear, so if you ever fight one, know they'll eat up rounds unless you get them in the head.

_____"The Agroprom doesn't have as many dogs as the Cordon. You're going to be more concerned with keeping your distance from wild boars. Don't touch any plant life that looks funny. I've heard there's been a lot of Snorks spotted around there lately. The soldiers used to call them 'Recruits,' but the name Snork... you'll understand if you see them. They're mutated humans, military stalkers. They crawl on all fours and try to sneak up, leap onto you like an animal." Journalist offered a thin smile. "But, just like animals, they got dens. I'm not planning on raiding any snork dens, but it's a possibility we'll stumble across a new one. They like cool, dark places, so try not to go into too many basements or strange caves alone, yeah?"

 

[DB_Explorer]

"Dark secluded places?" Dexter asked as he discreetly stepped away from the rusting car. "Those are the sort of places predators drag their prey to eat in peace away from scavengers like us. Also, the places where people like to store their secrets. Never going to find the truth by avoiding trouble." Dexter gave a shrug. "But this place doesn't seem to make anything easy, does it?" He continued without waiting for an answer. "So go ahead Journalist, lets get this mobile buffet on the road, eh?"

 

[Unlucky Bibliophile]

"There's a place not far from here called the 'Agroprom.' Was a sort of research place in the old days," Journalist said. The smug blond woman didn't seem to wear armor or carry a weapon with her like all the other stalkers, but the veterans present paid her a good ear. "A few good stalkers went missing in the area just a few days ago, and the loners in the area are offering good money to anyone who can help investigate what happened. I have business in the Agroprom, but you're all rookies. Doing a job like this will give you all some street cred and some freedom to move around in the Agroprom. I understand you had a rough first night, so I'll guide you there and stick around till the gig is done. Fair 'nuf?"

Click to shrink...

____The veteran stalker eyeballed a battered pair of newcomers. One was a soldier of some kind, albeit, one wearing no identifying marks or patches, although wearing mostly Russian-made modern equipment, and the other was a woman that seemed to be doing her best not to look particular important or noteworthy, despite a ruck sagging with an excess of equipment on her back.

_____Interesting.

_____"... so, I'm guessing you two lost a helicopter in this area not long ago?" After a moment, Journalist turned her attention back to Talon. "And go ahead. What's up?"

Click to shrink...

Vera hesitated on approach, seeing the heavily armed party of stalkers. But if they wanted to rob her for everything she had of value, they would have done so already and left their corpses for the mutants. So not bandits. Probably.

The doctor put on a reassuring smile. She didn't get where she was in life for being incredibly paranoid about other people. Besides, it was incredibly unlikely that she'd fool any of them to believing that they didn't come from the helicopter crash not too far away. "Very astute of you, miss," she said, nodding respectfully. "We're hoping to retrieve something from the wreckage. But I'm willing to help you with your task if you will help me with mine."

Just as long as it didn't involve hurting or killing people, that is. Considering the zone, however, that looked unlikely.

 

[Sushi]

@Unlucky Bibliophile @dryskim @DB_Explorer @PanzerWaffles @Wizard_Marshall
_____"You're willing to help us?" Journalist said. "I wasn't aware you had another choice. The bandits, the mercs, and especially the stalkers are going to be all over that crashed bird. If we hurry, we might be there first. I don't mind, and these fine people don't seem to mind. But be aware things like that always draw a big fight; if it comes down to that, be ready to hold your own. We'd best get moving before the bandits get too bored. Sound good?"

_____The crusty man with the shotgun grunted and flicked away a cigarette butt. "Good? No. But we should. And you, you're a doctor, aren't you? Stay in the middle of the group and don't wander off. We could use your friend's gun on our side anyway."

_____The blond stalker with the camera smiled. "Doc, meet Bloodhound. Bloodhound, meet Doc. I'm Journalist. Word from the wise, don't let your real name, your real number, your real anything out around these parts. Nobody wants to know who you are."

 

[Sushi]

@dryskim
_____Bratok heard the crisp snap of a beer can opening, the sound of a much envied treat among the bandits. Yoga was well into his drink when he got to Bratok's side with a grunt. He pressed a small bag into the burly enforcer's hands. it was heavy and jingled; it felt like two or three weeks in advance payment for the bandit, an even split in stolen army cartridges, liquor, and a haphazard mix of rubles and hyrvnia." It was uncharacteristic of Yoga, the stiff military man that kept his resources jealously close at hand. The only explanation given to Bratok was a gruff, "watch them. You keep me informed, I keep you paid. Go, now."

@Unlucky Bibliophile @CthuluWasRight @Terran Imperium @MiracleGrow @PanzerWaffles @DB_Explorer @Wizard_Marshall @dryskim
_____Bloodhound slipped behind the wheel of the Mercedes-Benz with a grunt. He laid his shotgun across his lap and unclipped the radio on his belt, leaving it stuffed into a cupholder. "Okay, we're ready to go, Journalist. You're leading us."

_____"Roger that. We're moving." The notorious stalker was the first to go through the station gates, along with Bratok and Talon. Those two had the shorter ranged weapons among them, and at least some armor. A few paces behind them went Dexter, Grey Wolf, and the soldier they had picked up. The doc stayed just behind them, and some distance from their vehicle taking up the rear. Their group started to filter through the doors, heading due West. They moved along the train-tracks in the same direction for several hundred meters, but diverted left, around the entrance to a train tunnel. A single bandit sat on top, a rifle folded across his lap. He waved at Bratok as they went. "That tunnel collapsed a while ago. No going through there anymore."

_____Their geiger counters clicked as they passed a yard with several old tanks and cars lined up in neat rows. A few vaguely human-looking shapes stumbled between them, and Journalist held a finger to her lips and waved them past, toward a small bottleneck between several piles of trash. The garbage was high enough to look like a small mountain range, their trek pushing through the small canyon between. Journalist produced a handful of metal bolts tied to white rags and tossed them in front of her. The streamer landed with a faint metallic clink, and several shiny brass casings rolled into the path. The blond stalker took a knee looked at the pile, then back to the road ahead, which wound around to the right and out of sight.

_____"Fresh casings. Stop the car. We're going to want to check this out on foot. Take it slow, and if you see the air shimmer... don't walk through that shit."

​

 

[dryskim]

Bratok replied to Yoga's request with a simple nod and one word, "Understood," then focused back on more important things, like perusing his bag of newly acquired goods.

Bullets, beer, and cash for bribes. A perfect trifecta.

The blonde woman - Journalist - led them out of the station gates as Bratok stowed his stuff. He'd paired off with a woman called Talon, a little punk rock chick in tactical gear. They'd walk point with Journalist and be the first to wander into any trouble along the way.

Bratok glanced back over his shoulder at the rest, who trailed further behind and would support the three up front if things got hairy.

A lot of very expensive Western military gear was spread among this group, definitely not cheap Chinese knock-offs for sure. Who were these people really? Someone was likely bankrolling them with this much wealth on display. Was that what had Yoga so interested?

The burly Russian glanced over at the mercenary with the pierced lip and eyebrow, "You know, you sell your equipment to other Loners you probably make more money off that than you will selling artifacts, less dangerous too," he said with a shrug.

@PanzerWaffles

 

[DB_Explorer]

Dexter pulled small electronic device from his belt on the Journalists mention of shimmers. The DA-2 was a sort of… Anomaly detector he had been told. They had proven it worked on actual artifacts but as he turned it on all he got was a useless hiss of white noise… typical.

He was going to need to upgrade it later, it worked, so he could use it as guide on how to make something more sensitive but that was for later. For now, it seemed any detection of lethal anomalies would have to be done the old-fashioned way – a good eye, the poor man on point and maybe a sufficiently long stick.

And people said science was boring.

Belting the functionally useless detector he glanced down at the wolf, for that's what the dog padding behind along with the group was, and backward toward its owner. "I don't like my chances trying to climb a pile of radioactive trash." He said waving a free hand toward the surrounding piles. "Though I also don't like being in a valley – think it would be worth the pain to get up there wolf girl?" Dexter asked.

@Wizard_Marshall

 

[Cheburashka]

@dryskim @DB_Explorer

Fucking amateurs. No reloading, no respite? I'd better do this, fast.

Talon broke off right after the conversation ended. After popping the trunk, she enjoyed a brief rest of thumbing nine millimeter cartridges into expended magazines and a mess cup of water to some Slipknot on her headphones. She felt relief as she gnawed on a piece of jerky and popped a Rockstar, her liquid gold. These people are going to wind themselves, not taking a breather, Talon thought to herself as she tasted the rich flavor of the somewhat cooled drink on her tongue. I don't get this sudden rush to leave, anyway, but I know we're better off booking it so this welcome isn't overstayed. She sighed. To Hell with it. I'm ready to actually explore this place. She finished her drink and lit a cigarette. Dexter's back and ornery as ever, which is better. Too bad he's still a geek...but he's my geek to watch over.

The mercenary then slapped the charging handle, capped off her magazine with one spare round, gave Dexter a two fingered salute and strolled out with the one Bandit that helped them during the battle. The Merc, commandeered by Bloodhound for the moment, was at a slow crawl behind her, Miss America, and the lone thug. Hope Max Payne likes stick shift, she smirked. I genuinely fucking hate it.

She noticed the man beside her was both better dressed and ruggedly handsome compared to the goons she had seen before, and he reminded her of the man she was here to find on her own time. First the German with the Hummer and straw purchase G-36's, then this brute. He's a Russian, no mistaking it.

Talon noted the curious peek at her gear, as though the man was impressed with it. "You know, you sell your equipment to other Loners you probably make more money off that than you will selling artifacts, less dangerous too," he shrugged. Well that was genuine. Not a bad idea, but it's a bitch even asking for spare ammunition, let alone explaining away guns and gear.

"Too many hoops to jump," she replied. "But it's good to know Western gear makes money out here." Artifacts, though. She had only seen the information blurbs, photos, and videos of them through the information provided during the briefing. Gorgeous and otherworldly, she knew, but she didn't really understand what was so important about them past the money and the eggheads paying out. The Belgian wasn't going to mention being indifferent to their purpose, though, as she knew better than to look dumb.

"Still, side cash is always welcome...we'll see what comes up."