"The guy was right, our guys managed to save themselves," Shnur says with a wide smile, approaching us.
While the stalker and a couple of his subordinates went to check the equipment graveyard, I talked with Wild Napr, learning more about the bandits and their leader. And it turned out that Yogi was a rather dangerous opponent. Greedy, aggressive, and extremely distrustful. Which means we can't lure him into a trap. And he has a couple of aces up his sleeve, not to mention the two brigades stationed at Agroprom and in the Dark Valley. If anything, they will immediately rush to their boss's aid, and can trap our forces. We need to act carefully here.
"What about the bandits?" Napr asks me, clapping me joyfully on the shoulder.
"Angry as devils," the stalker chuckles, sitting down next to me and reaching for the flask hanging at his belt. "We didn't dare to get too close, it's dangerous. We just looked carefully from the hill. There are quite a few corpses there, but, as the guy said, all with bandit chevrons. The guys left in full."
"Phew," the leader of the diggers exhales. "A mountain off my shoulders! Well, thank you, stalker, you did us a favor. Let's see what the yogi's bastards will do now to keep us here."
"Aren't you afraid they'll come for revenge for their own?" I ask, taking the metal flask from Shnur's hands and taking a sip of the burning liquid.
"They, and revenge? Ha!" Napr chuckles, slapping his thigh with his palm. "They spit on everything except money and their own skin. And they don't have the guts to show up here. We don't have much weapons, but we'll fight back. And Yogi understands this perfectly, so he'll try to wear us down. But we have enough supplies for a couple of months of siege, and maybe other stalkers will join us."
"You're right," agrees the second stalker, taking another sip from his flask. "They only managed to capture Pale's group by chance. Ours ran into a bandit patrol when they were going here for ammunition. You understand, you can't fight much without bullets."
"Speaking of which," Napr interjects. "Thank you for telling us about the guys' escape. If it weren't for you, we would have been in the dark for a long time. What do you want as a reward?"
"Oh, nothing's needed," I raise my hands in front of me, refusing the reward. "We would have found out anyway, so what's there to say. And I wouldn't refuse work. Paid work."
"Well, we don't have much free money, but..." the leader of the diggers pauses for a moment. "If you complete a couple of assignments for us, I'll figure something out. We have quite a few people, but mostly they are rookies. And you can see what they're armed with, pistols and sawn-off shotguns. So someone like you would definitely be useful to us."
"What, do you already have a job in mind for me?" I ask.
"How could we not?" Napr replies with a slight smirk. "Work is like that, it never ends." Then he continues, leaning towards me and lowering his voice. "You'll need to go to one stalker and bring me what he gives you. Without extra eyes."
"Don't you have trusted people, do you?" I say just as quietly, glancing at Shnur, who pretended to be completely uninterested in our conversation.
"Yes, but after the guys escaped, my eagles better not stray too far from base," Napr shrugs. "And you're a new person, you appeared at the Garbage today, you're definitely not involved. Well, you walk around, who cares? You paid the passage toll, no one will get too bold with you. Your gear shows you're a skilled shooter. In short, you'll just go somewhere and pick up what I need."
"And who will I need to visit?"
"His name is Svezhak," the leader of the diggers continues. "From one of the garbage heaps, there's a camp organized by our guys. They are engaged in excavation and selling parts on the side. Recently, as I heard, they got a major client. Some vagabond was looking for quite rare radio parts. In short, you'll take part of the money from Svezhak and bring it to me."
"So frankly?" I raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Aren't you afraid I'll run off with the money?"
"Ha," my interlocutor chuckles, Shnur also smiles at my words. "The money is electronic, in an account. You don't withdraw it like that, and the sum isn't that large to suffer so much. But if you bring it, I'll pay you in solid cash."
"And why do you need electronic money yourselves? I don't see any ATMs here."
"For trading with some dealers," Napr explains, patting me lightly on the shoulder. "In short, come tomorrow morning. I'll give you a confirmation note for Svezhak."
"Hey, commander," a loud voice of one of the diggers rings out behind me. "Is it true that Pale and his boys escaped?"
"True, true, guys," the leader of the diggers smiles, getting up from the mattress, and, raising his voice, continues, "In honor of this, there will be a banquet tonight!"
The time until evening flew by unnoticed in conversations with various stalkers. I had nothing to do anyway. There was no point in straining myself to scout the area while the jammer was working. And even so, I learned quite a lot about the bandits' disposition, and negotiating an alliance with the diggers while there was a traitor among them made no sense. Therefore, all that remained was to complete a couple of original game quests to expose the rat.
So, tomorrow morning I need to go to this Svezhak's camp, search his corpse, and return to Napr. And then it will be time to go after the head of this Afonya or Avoska, I don't even remember his name in the game. By the way, I wonder why Vasya didn't return to Napr? The very one who had to be protected from blind moles in the game. Shram went to the Garbage a few days before me, he should have crossed paths with these stalkers. Strange.
I take another look at the lively flea market. As evening fell, various stalkers crawled out of every crack, immediately enlivened by the news of Pale's group's rescue. They chattered merrily, told jokes, a couple of guys even pulled out guitars and played some simple compositions in unison, sitting by one of the bonfires. Here I notice one stalker with darting eyes emerge from the crowd and head straight for me, although I was sitting in the very corner.
"Hey, vagabond," he says, approaching and sitting down opposite me, and offers a plastic cup with a clear liquid. "Well, let's drink to the guys. May they succeed. Ugh! It went down well... My name is Avoska, by the way. I walked around the Zone with an avoska bag at first, ha-ha!"
"And to you as well," I reply, and immediately drain the glass of vodka, wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my jumpsuit and looking my sudden interlocutor up and down.
Nothing remarkable, just a regular stalker, of which there are many here. Medium height, similar build. Short hedgehog of dark hair on his head, a sharp gaze of brown eyes, and, overall, a handsome face. The stalker is dressed extremely poorly. A common and worn brown leather jacket with a hood, not even a vest. A pistol holster with a worn Makarov pistol adorns his thigh. Does Yog pay so little?
"By the way, why did I approach you," he continues, a slight smile on his lips, pouring more into my empty glass from a half-empty glass bottle. "It was you who told Napr about our escape, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was me," I reply, shrugging my shoulders and drinking a second glass. "Do you have any questions for me?"
"Oh, nothing much," Avoska smiles again. "Just curious what you saw there. Maybe someone helped the guys escape, or maybe something else... Do you know?"
"Haaah," I exhale, finally understanding what this scoundrel wants from me. He wants to know if I'm involved in all this. However, even if I lie, he can still report me. But I'm not going to tell the truth in any case. "Nah, brother,
I don't know. When I passed by the graveyard of equipment, there were already only bodies lying there. I didn't go to them, it was clear they had already been robbed, so I went on."
"Mmm," he draws out, scratching his chin. "I see. See you around."
What a bastard. As soon as he realized there was nothing to get from me, all his politeness disappeared. Well, that's fine, you won't be treading the Zone for long. Nothing personal, but I don't approve of betrayal, and you're getting in my way...
"Here, take this," he hands me a crumpled piece of paper, no less crumpled after yesterday's outpourings from Napr. "Svezhak's camp, khkh, is located on the southwest side of the garbage heap, which is almost opposite the hangar. Understand?"
"Yes," I nod. "Anything else?"
"You cheer the guys up with good news, okay?" the leader of the diggers voices another request. "There are many familiar guys there. They'll be happy to know..."
"Alright."
"Have a good journey, stalker," Napr says goodbye, and as I start to descend the steps, he calls out to me. "I completely forgot, what's your name?"
"I'm Executioner," I turn around and answer him with a smile, noticing his surprised look.
The camp I needed was only a half-hour brisk walk from the Flea Market. It's even strange that the diggers themselves can't establish communication between their scattered squads, which are within walking distance of each other. But that's their business and their problems, they concern me little.
I reach a huge garbage heap located behind large tanks and go around it on the left side until I stumble upon an empty digger camp. Rusty barrels filled with earth mixed with gravel are set up around the perimeter, and adjacent to them are empty crates. And behind this defensive line is a small tent stretched over several mattresses laid out around a campfire. A little to the right is a huge dug-out pit.
I approach the long-extinguished campfire, examining the area. Clear signs of a fight are everywhere. The grass is still flattened, there are traces of dried blood on the mattresses and the ground, broken crates with small provisions, and weapons abandoned in the mud. The enemy attacked unnoticed, and judging by the absence of bodies, it were mutants. But what creatures can so easily destroy a camp of armed stalkers? If it were bloodsuckers, there should have been bodies, although scavengers could have dragged them away.
Here, somewhere to my right and above, a hoarse and loud roar is heard. I turn sharply and see a mutant flying at me, spreading its arms for a strike. I jump aside, turn around, and hold my rifle in front of me, piercing the ugly gas mask in the temple area, but the creature wasn't alone.
Behind me, I hear the rustling of grass, and I turn around sharply, but it's too late. A snork just knocks me down, pinning me to the ground with its weight. The ugly creature, dousing me with stench from its maw, reaches out to bite my neck. I punch with all my might with my left fist right in the temple, the snork shakes its head, trying to overcome the ringing. This was enough time for me to draw my pistol and shoot the mutant.
Somehow pushing the heavy carcass off me, I get up on one knee to look around, and, damn it, just a few meters away there was another creature, preparing to jump. I raise my pistol, wincing from the pain in my ribs, and start shooting at the mutant, which has already jumped at me. But the pistol bullets, hitting the snork's body, couldn't cool its ardor, and I draw my hunting knife, taking the mutant on it.
I grip the handle of the blade tightly, trying not to lose it when the snork knocks me to the ground. I grimace from the severe pain in my chest, and, what's more, the creature managed to hit me in the head with a clenched fist. My vision immediately darkened, and only with an incredible effort of will did I not lose consciousness. The snork also wheezes in pain from the knife stuck under its ribs, and a mixture of blood and saliva begins to drip from its maw onto my face. A little more! I twist the knife, causing the creature a little more pain, and drag the blade sideways. And soon the mutant's life ends.
Throwing the snork's body aside, I somehow get back on my feet. My ribs ache mercilessly, my head is buzzing, I feel slightly nauseous, and blood is running from my nose to my lips. The damn creature left me with a concussion for good measure. But, judging by the fact that I'm still conscious, nothing serious. I take a few steps towards the mattresses, carefully sitting down on one of them, and reach for the first-aid kit in my backpack.
I open the army medical kit and provide myself with first aid, taking painkillers and an immune stimulant. I don't want to catch any infection after such a fight. Then I put the rest of the first-aid kit back, take out a few wet wipes, and start wiping the blood from my face.
"Well, well," I grin crookedly, throwing away a dirty wipe. "Went on an original mission, they say, just a couple of minutes of work, ha!.."