“We really caught them with their pants off, mwahahaha!”
Walking to the courtyard where his men are relaxing after this morning’s fight, Bruiser realizes that no one is manning the walls. He shouts over to the bragging Bandit who sits on the wreck of a US-made personnel carrier in the courtyard, surrounded by several other men in equally high spirits.
“Hey! Senka! Put down that damned vodka! Instead of getting drunk, take a few guys and keep a watch on the walls!”
Senka just laughs at him. “Got shit in yer pants, bro? Relax! Ya safe with us!”
“Barking orders doesn’t become ya,” another Bandit grins. He pats his empty artifact holder. “Tell us instead where all da loot is dat Sultan promised!”
“Damn right, bro!” Senka passes his vodka to the grinning Bandit and points at the pile of dead Stalkers next to the entrance. “We didn’t come ‘ere for a few lousy Kalashnikovs!”
Next to a dead Stalker he has just finished looting, another Bandit looks up. A white skull printed on his black balaclava makes him appear particularly tough.
“Three conserves, a few mags and a few hundred rubles, Bruiser. If that’s whadda New Zone’s got to offer, I’m already on my way back!” He looks at the wallet in his hands and gives the photograph he finds inside a grimace. “Tough luck, little girl. Yer daddy came, saw and sucked major cock—but I’ll have my fun with you, haha!”
He licks the photograph through the balaclava’s mouth hole and puts it away.
Bruiser swallows and curses the moment when he volunteered to come with such an undisciplined and disrespectful bunch, even though they were supposed to be the Bandits’ so-called ’elite’. A true-blooded Bandit commander would have just kicked Senka’s teeth out but Bruiser is not up to this. To his further embarrassment, he feels his face blushing in shame.
“Uh-oh,” Senka’s buddy says. “Gettin’ angry? Let me guess—someone stole your dried sausage?”
Bruiser desperately tries to act as a Bandit commander is supposed to. “I’m in charge here! Now get to those walls or I’ll… I’ll just shoot you!”
The Bandits laugh. “Didn’t ya just see how we kicked Stalker ass?”
“Chill out, man. There’s nothing to be scared of!”
He reaches for the vodka bottle that the other Bandit is about to pass him back but doesn’t get a chance to touch it.
A bell rings out not far from the Asylum. The deep sound echoing in the valley is as foreboding as it is unexpected in this wilderness.
Senka turns pale. “Whadda hell is that?”
The Bandits are looking at each other in surprise and fear. The bell rings again.
“Grab your weapons!” Bruiser yells. “At arms, you idiots!”
Now the Bandits scramble to take up defensive positions. Half a dozen of them frantically load their shotguns and freshly looted Kalashnikovs as they run up to the ramparts. The few of them with better armor put on their assault helmets.
“Whatever this…”
A hard guitar riff cuts into Bruiser’s words.
“Metallica?” Senka asks with utter bewilderment all over his face. “Whadda…”
Before he could say hell, a whizz sounds in the air for a split second, and then a massive detonation shakes the western wall. The impact kicks Bruiser off his feet. A second later the wall is hit again. This time, the weakened construction yields to the blast and a long section of the wall goes down, burying and killing the Bandits on the ramparts.
Lying on the ground and half-covered by dust and debris from the blasts, Bruiser’s ringing ears can barely hear the third that is coming from the direction of the road block outside the Asylum. Though their enemy hasn’t let themselves be seen yet, he is smart enough to understand that his men stand no chance against anyone with such firepower.
He staggers to his feet and dashes into the relative safety of the building as fast as his trembling limbs can carry him. One of the men who run up to the ramparts lies on the ground with a leg torn off by the blast, his horrible scream muted by the ringing in Bruiser’s ears. He recognizes Senka’s cheeky buddy.
Several mortar rounds impact in the courtyard, followed by heavy machine gun fire hammering the western wall. Dust and stone splinters fly around everywhere.
Bruiser jumps over the wounded man and brutally kicks the hand trying to grab at him. He collects his rucksack, quickly puts the precious laptop inside and is about to reach the hole leading into the sewers when he feels a strong hand on his shoulder.
“Running away, huh? Not without me, asshole!”
It is Senka who wants to grin but his lips are trembling with fear. “Move, Bruiser! I saw soldiers coming!”
Though Bruiser wants to at least know who had rooted them so quickly and brutally, he leaves any questions for later as he squeezes himself through the hole and descends back into the sewers from where they had emerged just a few hours ago. Neither he or Senka think for a second about saving anyone who might have survived the onslaught.
The sound of the frightful music is receding, though the handful of Bandits still alive can hardly realize it. Blood trickles from their blast-stricken ears. Rendered incapable by the shelling, they helplessly watch on fighters in desert camouflage appear through the breached wall and secure the ruined Asylum with well-trained movements.
22
Skinner’s sense of time tells him that enough time has passed since he had locked the Stalkers in the hall with the stasis tubes. He might even have slept a little bit, since a while ago he was imagining what would happen if one day he’d bring down jackals, wolves or even bears and this thought could have made for a nice dream. What would the laboratory do to them? Maybe adding the sneak ability of a snake to a bear? Or turn jackals into wolves with the size of a bear? Too bad he had so few gas at his disposal, and even so, he could counted himself lucky to have found enough of the mysterious substance at all. As of yet, there was no way to lead this group of unsuspecting Stalkers to the northern passage and down into the Catacombs beneath the City of Screams. The Tribe was blocking the approaches leading there from the south and east. Soon, they will be annihilated but for the time being, he had to settle for what he found in these vaults where experiments to emulate the effects of those fateful catacombs had once been conducted. And now it’s time to see if it worked out.
He estimates that the Stalkers were exposed at least half a day longer to the substance than he was in the catacombs, after he left the soldiers to fare alone on their suicide mission. While he walked down to the tightly shut metal door, it came to his mind that he still doesn’t know if that major and his men survived. Probably not, but it’s been long ago and without any importance to him.
Where there was quiet when the Stalkers had entered the vault, now heavy steps are thumping. No one bangs at the door, demanding anyone outside to open it. This probably means that whatever is inside has no fear of being there — as it would fit a mutant.
So far, so good, Skinner thinks and cautiously opens the door.
23
“The big man will cut your balls for letting Nooria get pissed, you crazy Russkie!”
“You should better see yourself carrying those two bags full of female perfumes, Top,” Pete laughs. “It’s incredibly devastating to your tough guy image.”