One Last Job

“Got a new bounty for you, stalker.” The large bearded man waved me over to the bar as I entered the shipwreck we call home. “Think you’re up to the task?”

I cocked an eyebrow from underneath my gas mask. “Is it a dangerous one?”

He laughed and leaned in closer. “This just came in from a scientist outside the Zone,” he whispered. “Apparently, this artifact’s one of a kind. Only one man has laid eyes on it, supposedly a friend of his. They had to bail after a nest of bloodsuckers got riled up in the building where it was found.” The man’s eyes shifted around the room, ensuring no one was listening in on their conversation before continuing. “They’re willing to pay a hefty fee for clearing the nest and retrieving this artifact.”

Music to my ears. I’ve been waiting for one last job to get the hell out of this place; a couple years in the Exclusion Zone ages a man faster than going to war.

I looked the man dead in the eye, studying his face. “How hefty are we talking here, Beard? There isn’t much that’s worth the trouble of facing a whole nest of those mutants.”

He smirked and mumbled, “2 million rubles, my friend.”

My eyes widened in shock. That’s enough to set a man up for the rest of his life on the outside; what was this egghead playing at?

Whatever the case, I was determined to cash that bounty in. “Consider it done. I’ll set out after I repair and resupply. Got a description and coordinates?”

“I’m uploading them to your PDA now,” replying to me as he taps the numbers into his computer. “You’ve got a week before I release this to the rest of the guys, so if you want it badly enough, I suggest you be quick about it. Wouldn’t want any competition on your big score, right?” He chuckled as my PDA beeped in confirmation of info arrival. “Good hunting, stalker.”

I reviewed the job as I waited for the mechanic to fix my armor. Two million rubles to venture into Lab X-17, clear out the bloodsucker nest, and retrieve the artifact. Beard tells me this artifact is a locket in the shape of a heart; I doubt it has any particularly strong effects, but given the amount this mystery scientist is willing to fork over for someone to recover it, there must be more to it than meets the eye. Still… this is the opportunity of a lifetime. Only a fool or a newbie would pass up a job like this.

I check my loadout before leaving; this job is perfect to test out a SPAS-12 I recently obtained from Quick, a dealer in rare weapons stationed on the wreck. I load it, strap it to my pack, and check my most trusted friend in the Zone, an AK-74M from my first days here. She’s gotten me through more rough spots than I could count, and there’s no way in hell I wouldn’t take her on this excursion. I top off my ammo reserves, food supplies, and double check everything else before heading out the door, giving a nod to Beard, who waves me off. One last trip, I thought. This is it.

I creep slowly in between the tree trunks, light filtering through the blood red leaves from above. Two grueling days of travel, beset by bandits and mutants alike, have led to this moment. I spot the entrance to the lab, a heavy door set into the side of a mountain, the emergency light still flickering above the portal. Sweeping my surroundings, I make my way to the bunker door and punch in the passcode I obtained from one of my contacts. The code was not cheap to come by, but the cost is small potatoes compared to what I stand to gain. The door creaks open, revealing a crumbling staircase stained with color from the inhabitants and their victims. I steel my nerves and begin to descend into the inky blackness, closing the door behind me and hearing the automatic locks slide into place.

I flip down my night vision goggles and turn them on. A blaze of green fills my field of view; no longer am I blind in this tomb. A map of this complex, dirty and torn, is pasted on a wall before me. The client had specified the room the artifact would be found in was the lab’s central control room. Briefly poring over the map, I identify the room and quickly draw the best route to take before continuing. No wonder the egghead’s friend scooted off; this place is nightmarish to one so fresh. The air does not move, sitting heavy and still. Water drips from unknown sources in the background. Metal creaks under the weight of my boot as I tread forward. My only companions do not speak to me, and I am left to my thoughts; truly, I am alone…

Eyes on the prize. The journey is halfway over at this point; I hold the artifact in my hand. A cursory sweep with my Geiger counter reveals this artifact is not radioactive at all… strange. And yet, I feel at ease with it in my pocket. Like a comforting blanket from one’s childhood, or a picture of your loved one in your wallet. Then, a sound emanates from outside the control room. A low roar, echoing and magnified by the empty halls. Shit. I have overstayed my welcome. I ready my weapon and advance slowly. Scuffles on the floor surround me with anxiety. I prepare for the worst and rack my shotgun.

They know I’m here; I know they are coming for me. My finger rests on the trigger, my ears open, my eyes constantly shifting around the room. Something flits across my vision. There’s one. The bloodsucker’s optical camouflage, while confusing to the untrained eye, can be betrayed by the mutants glowing eyes. It turns and spots me. Come and get it, cyka. It rushes towards me, quick as lightning; but I am faster. The blast from my shotgun illuminates the room and the mutant is shredded from the buckshot. One demon down, many more to come. I place a block of C4, intending on collapsing this place on top of them. A few steps taken; another block placed. Two more mutants come around the corner. I annihilate the first; the second catches me in the chest with its razor-sharp claws, spilling my blood as it passes by. My heart pounds as I struggle to lift my weapon. It turns and the mutant’s eyes glow red, bearing down on me. I barely have enough time to aim and fire, and its corpse is thrown into the wall behind it. That was too close for comfort. I pause to only bandage the wound and inject some morphine for my pain. Time to trudge on.

Two shells left. Make them count. I grow close to the exit. Medical supplies and ammunition are low. Will I make it out alive? No longer worried about making noise, I rush back through the winding tunnels and corridors. My heart thuds in my chest, tight as a coiled spring under pressure. There! I spot the staircase I descended at the beginning of this twisted place. One last block to place and… My neck tingles. This is not the feeling I wanted. Something else is here, more powerful. I freeze, staring into the darkness in the tunnel ahead. No. Not like this. I will not let you stop me. A wave of psychic energy assaults my mind. I am nearly powerless to stop it, and I crumble to the floor; but my will is strong. I cling to the last tethers of life, pulling myself from the ground as a grotesque mutant approaches me. I stare into its eyes as it bores into my brain. You cannot control me, monster. I unsheathe my knife. In a last feat of desperation, I lunge and bury the blade into its neck. The controller screams, piercing my eardrums. I do not stop my assault until it is dead. I drag myself up the stairs and open the bunker door, grateful for the sun bathing me in its light once more. Detonator in hand, I shut the door and squeeze the trigger. A large, muffled explosion shakes the ground and surrounding trees, disrupting the nesting birds as they fly off into the sky. It is done.

I greet the guards at the entrance of the shipwreck. They check me over and allow me through, and I am once again greeted by my compatriots seated throughout the bar. Beard widely grins as I make my way to him.

“Well, well! It is good to see you again, stalker. I had worried the Zone would eat you alive.”

I pull off my gas mask and set it down on the nearest table. “It nearly did,” I reply gruffly. “What’s so damn important about this artifact?” I take the container with the locket out of my pack and hand it over to the barman, who eyes it with earnest.

“From what I hear,” he confides as he looks it over, “This artifact is supposed to bring the bearer great luck. Unusual for an artifact from the Zone.”

My thoughts turn to the events in the lab. “I doubt that. I ran into a controller on my way out of that god forsaken complex. I was barely able to defeat it.”

Beard raises an eyebrow. “A controller you say. That is unlucky indeed.” He takes the container and stows it behind the bar. “Regardless, you completed the job. I’d say your reward is well earned.” The barkeep turns and fishes out a duffel bag, sets it onto the bar, and unzips it before my eyes. “Two million rubles, cold hard cash. Don’t spend it all in one place!”