“Now, tell me, young man, where the hell have you been?” the director said, his eyes boring into Adrian. “I’ve been looking for you. You missed breakfast. You did not show up for the roll-call. And what’s with your clothes?” He pointed his finger at the holes torn in Adrian’s suit.

  “The dogs, sir,” Adrian said, holding on to the last question and pretending not to hear the first one.

  “What dogs?”

  “The guard dogs, sir. It’s Ramon. I was playing with him, and… well, you know, he likes to cuddle, but he also has sharp claws. Scratched me a bit. In fact, I was going to change.”

  “And why are you here, if everyone is at breakfast?”

  “I ate with the service workers, sir.” Adrian lowered his gaze, feigning obedience and innocence as much as he could.

  “Look me in the eye… Thorne, you’ve been smoking again? What’s that stench?”

  “No, sir. Mattock’s place is always full of smoke, that’s why the coveralls smell.”

  “Why do you even hang out with them?”

  “I did not know that was prohibited, sir,” Adrian said, and immediately bit his tongue.

  “Thorne!” Burakovsky roared. Rudeness rarely worked with him. “You’re forgetting yourself! You think I don’t know you sneak into the Forest? Want me to have you sent off to the Object in a gray truck?”

  “Negative, sir.” Adrian lowered his gaze again.

  “Listen, Thorne.” The director’s voice softened; now it sounded almost concerned. Adrian looked at him sheepishly. “You see these two gentlemen?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “They came to check your portfolio. To be frank, I thought nothing good would ever come out of you. But apparently, your results had impressed the army.”

  “My results?” For a moment, Adrian forgot about everything.

  “You’re doing good at the shooting range,” one of the officers said, looking at him with a calm smile. “Your medical data is great for someone who lived their entire life nearby the Zone. You don’t know it, but we ran quite a few tests on you, and the results look promising.”

  Adrian nodded. Now he understood. There was nothing to be surprised about. He was from the second generation of shelter residents, those who were born shortly after the Accident. It was after them that the orphanage took the loud name “For the Children of Fallen therizers.” Of course, everyone knew this was nonsense—that the military, occupying the Zone, couldn’t care less about therizers, and even less about their children, of whom less than ten percent were not born dead. But the fact remained—the orphanage existed, it occupied the cleanest territory in the far north of the Zone, and children there were even always clothed, shod, and fed. Outside working hours, the second important part of their daily routine was medical checkups. They regularly had to take some injections or pills. Not rare were the cases when, after taking a new pill, someone would fall sick, be sent to the hospital, and never return to the dorm. Adrian also fell sick quite a few times, but he never stayed in bed for long.

  “What are your plans for the future, kid?” the officer asked.

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “I’ll tell you,” Burakovsky grumbled. “He wants to become a damn therizer. Thinks he can always walk in the Forest, find some bullshit trinkets, and get a ton of money for them from some four-eyed fools. What, you think, I don’t know?” he continued, pointing his finger at Adrian. “You all little idiots dream about it, imagine how you just survive a couple of years in the Zone, and then you will become millionaires and retire? Do you even know what the Zone is? You think this little forest here is the Zone? It is a kindergarten. In the real Zone—that one over there, to the South—you won’t last a single trip. Will die there, like one of the thousands of idiots who try their luck every year.” Burakovsky lost his breath and went silent for a moment. Adrian stayed quiet.

  “And even this kindergarten takes its toll on us,” the director said bitterly. “You know what happened last night?” Adrian shook his head, and Burakovsky grimaced. “Go, check at the gates. The grey truck had arrived. The mutants appeared in the parts they had never been seen before. Half patrol is dead.”

  Adrian felt a cold shiver running down his spine. So he was not mistaken. What happened to him last night was not just an accident.

  The Zone is advancing, he thought with rising fear.

  “That’s why I keep telling you—don’t do anything foolish,” the director said solemnly. “Don’t go to the Forest. I know you did. We turned a blind eye to quite a few things. But the situation had changed. From now on, the perimeter will be watched more thoroughly. Don’t try to sneak out. You will get caught and locked up for a week, and if not, you might be dead even faster.”

  Burakovsky sighed, shook his head, as if trying to remember if he said everything he wanted.

  “Come to my office tomorrow morning,” he said finally. “By that time, I, with these gentlemen, will have your paperwork figured out.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now go, change yourself, and I will make sure you showed up at work today.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Burakovsky glanced at him grimly for the last time, nodded to his companions, and the three of them strolled away down the alley. Adrian exhaled slowly, his temples throbbing. He could not believe he was not locked up.

  The grey truck, he thought, climbing up the stairs to his shared room. Burakovsky must have been very scared himself.

  As he expected, almost everyone was inside.

  Matt jumped up, but not without clutching his cards to his chest. His opponent, Alex, had his jaw drop. Nick leaned down from the top bunk, where something metallic clinked.

  Almost everyone was here…

  “Where’s Tim?” Adrian flopped onto the bed.

  “Adri!” Matt found his voice again. “Thanks Zone, you’re alive!”

  “Did you even hear what I just said? Where’s Tim?”

  “They took him,” Nick said quietly from above. “Southpaw… he was here at dawn.”

  Those morons, Adrian thought, dumbfounded. They did not bluff.

  “We thought you’d disappeared into the Forest for good,” Alex said with a sigh of relief. Adrian stayed silent, stunned. “Like Max last year. They never found his body. The Forest is full of mysteries… We also thought maybe you didn’t want to pay Southpaw back and tried to call him to negotiate. So what happened?”

  “I blew it.” Adrian clenched his teeth, furious at himself. “Mutant dogs… attacked me on the Ghost Trail.”

  “No way! There’s never been any there!”

  “I was surprised too. Wasn’t ready.” He rolled up his sleeve, showing filthy, roughly wrapped bandages with a faint dark stain seeping through. “Three at once. I got my knife out, killed one of them. Had to run from the rest. I dropped the bag—figured I’d come back for it later, my hide’s worth more. But Southpaw found me first. Damn, I thought I’d grab Tim and we’d try to get the bag together… You should’ve seen how pissed I was. Best loot in the past year, the four-eyed would’ve paid tens of grand for it. I’ve never ventured that deep.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  He saw their eyes glaring with envy.

  “Yeah, but that was all for Southpaw and his gang, right?” Matt said with a sigh. “You would not get a single dollar for all that great loot… How the hell did you even end up owing him that much?!” Matt slammed his fist on the table. Adrian spoke gloomily without looking at him:

  “It happened… Remember when the four-eyed came last time? Well, they had some top-notch stuff with them. A big batch of the newest meds, they instantly flush all contamination from your body, heal wounds… I borrowed money from Southpaw, thinking I’d pay him back as soon as I handed over the loot to the four-eyed. But they sold me the batch—a whole crate of vaccine and pills—and left right after. And Southpaw, he’s got his own schemes; he wants to make a deal with some big shots, and he needs artifacts for it. He’s not crazy—he knows I can find enough to cover the debt.”

  “Ah, that’s where you got all those meds,” Nick said quietly. “Well, it came in handy with those dogs, right?”

  “Actually, yes, I’ve made a shot this morning, and it’s already getting a lot better. But still hurts as hell.”

  “I told you not to work with marauders,” Matt snapped bitterly. “And you knew! You knew what they did to others…”

  “Where else was I supposed to get the money?” Adrian asked irritably. “Scientists come once a year. You have to work with someone. The squeaky wheel gets the grease.”

  “Squeaky wheel… They took Tim because of you,” Matt said coldly. “It’s not just your problem now. Tim never worked with them, and now he’s in danger.”

  “What are you going to do?” Alex frowned.

  “What do you think?”

  “Well, if I were you, I’d tell everything to Burakovsky. Southpaw is going too far with this mess. Kidnapping people in the daylight… He won’t get away with it.”

  “They won’t catch him red-handed,” Adrian said contemptuously. “And he can always kill Tim after, dispose of the body in the Forest, and tell everyone that Tim just ventured out by himself. And tomorrow he’ll do the same to me for trying to frame him. I’ve just met Burakovsky. He warned me to stay away from the Forest. Said, mutant dogs ambushed a patrol last night. So now, any murder can be pinned on mutant dogs, see?”

  “So what then?”

  “It’s my fault, and it’s my problem now. So I’m gonna solve it myself. I’m going into the Forest.”

  In the silence that followed, Matt, forgetting his cards, let out a quiet groan.

  “In broad daylight? You’re crazy, Adri…”

  “Shut up and listen. The trail’s close. I’ll just go there and back, be back before quiet hour. I remember the spot. The dogs won’t touch it, and no one else can get there. If Southpaw starts asking questions before lunch—don’t rat me out. Say I just asked about Tim and left.”

  Matt nodded fearfully.

  “With those dogs, it would be so great to have a pistol,” Adrian muttered, speaking to himself. The guys chuckled. Everyone knew that getting a firearm was almost impossible unless you were friends with the soldiers.

  In the silence that followed, Adrian felt the resolve. Under their following gazes, he stood up, quickly undressed, and changed his tattered suit for a new one. Replaced the filter in his respirator, arranged his meds into pockets, took an extra knife, and an extra bag of nuts.

  “Yeah, and you know, not a word to the caretakers,” he snapped, checking his outfit for the last time. “Burakovsky’s had it in for me for a while. If he asks, tell him I felt sick. But I’ll try to be back before he notices.”

  “Adrian, take me with you,” Nick asked.

  Adrian glanced at him, and Nick immediately shrank back into the shadows of his top bunk. That was one of the reasons Adrian wasn’t liked in the House. Everyone knew him—as an insolent, sharp, rarely cheerful seventeen-year-old. As an excellent tracker, the best therizer left after the previous group of old-timers had left the orphanage—those who had taught the younger ones how to move through the forest, spot anomalies, and collect artifacts. He was the best from the second generation.

  Everyone in the orphanage knew Adrian. They knew what he was capable of. They feared and respected him, and always knew it was best to take him seriously. But they didn’t like him.

  He thought back. Remembered how four years ago, a therizer from the first group had taken him into the forest for the first time. How he’d taught the capable boy to find invisible anomalies and beautiful stones that held so much value for the scientists. He’d grown up in a good batch, ten people trained back then. Six were already dead. Only he, Tim, Matt, and Alex remained. He also remembered how just last year they’d offered him the job of training the younger ones, but he’d refused—he didn’t like going into the forest with a rookie. He preferred a reliable partner, or to go alone. But younger folk kept asking him for a knowledge transfer. Because someone who could walk the Forest could survive and make money.

  But this time the venture was far too dangerous.

  “Another time,” he said. “That’s it, guys—don’t give me away. And wish me luck. I’ll try to get Tim out of this mess.”

  “Break a leg…” Alex looked at him worriedly.

  “To hell with it.” Adrian nodded and rushed out of the room.

  The sun was high, and the working hours had begun, wiping out most people from the alleyways. Leaving the campus, he hesitated for a moment. Instead of the hidden hole in the fence, something forced him to walk in the opposite direction—towards the main gates and the outpost.

  He saw the grey truck from afar. It was parked close to the entrance barrier, next to the purification station, a grey building with an ever-smoking chimney. The truck’s tailgates were half open, and several armed soldiers were standing next to it. There was a crowd of military people at the barrier, chatting in raised voices. Adrian could not make out separate words, but could tell that the atmosphere was rather tense. He came closer, pretending to be just gaping, and peered into the dark bowels of the truck, but could not see anything. One of the soldiers turned out to be someone he knew.

  “Hey, David, what’s up?” he asked, standing nearby and rolling a cigarette.

  “Adrian? Why the hell are you here?” the soldier looked at him sullenly. “Hey, you got a smoke?”

  “Sure.” Adrian shared some tobacco, and after they lit up, he asked in a quiet tone, nodding at the truck, “So, what’s inside, what are you guarding here?”

  “Like hell you don’t know? Five stiffs zipped up. Still waiting for the purification.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard rumors. Dogs?” The soldier only nodded grimly; his lips twitched.

  “Were you there?”

  “Yep.”

  Adrian nodded. David hovered anxiously, taking glimpses at the entrance barrier, then at the black crack between the tailgates.

  “Can I have a look?”

  “At what? Stiffs? Are you crazy? They have half a face devoured. And it’s all still contaminated. I would not even come close to them without a protective suit. They are right from the Perimeter, lad.” The army people were known to be much more fastidious than the orphans when it came to dealing with the Zone hygiene.

  “So, what exactly—” Adrian started, but did not get to finish the question.

  A scream pierced the air, breaking the monotonous hum of distant chatter. The siren went on. Some movement began at the barrier, and the soldiers anxiously clasped their rifles, at once stepping away from the truck and turning towards the outpost.

  “Shit,” David muttered, threw away the half-smoked butt. “No way. Are they here?.. Stay clear, kid!” he barked, pushing Adrian aside and darting toward the barrier along with his troopmates.

  Stunned, Adrian looked into their back. He saw the sentries at the top of the observation towers leaning against the sights of their rifles, heard the chirp of shots. Little clouds of powder smoke billowed into the milky autumn sky. The troops lined up in front of the barrier, and from his vantage point, Adrian saw them firing in short bursts, and then he saw the first dog approaching dangerously close, falling dead mere meters away from the barrier.

  Suddenly, he came to. Glanced around. Everyone was at the barrier now, the purification station doors were closed, and even those peering from the windows of the upper floors did not pay any attention to the truck. Adrian did not think too much; he had very little time at his disposal. He pulled one of the tailgates open and quickly climbed into the truck’s belly.

  The sounds of shooting faded. Before his eyes got used to the darkness, he felt the nauseating stench. Five black zip bags lay on the floor, and he slowly walked around them, enchanted, the cold claws of fear clenching his bowels. He froze atop one of them, slowly kneeled, put his hand on the zipper, still unsure if that was a good idea. But there was no way back. Feeling his arms tremble treacherously, Adrian gasped sharply and unzipped the bag.

  A swarm of flies dashed into his face, he waved them away and, looking down, barely held a retch. What was once a human head now looked like a bloody mask with empty eye sockets, skin, nose, and lips ripped apart, tattered brown flesh hanging on white bones of the skull. At first, Adrian was going to hold his breath to avoid the stench; instead, now he was gasping frantically and hoping he would not pass out right here. Trying not to look into the stiff’s face, he pulled the zip down, uncovering the blood-stained jumpsuit all the way down to the belt.

  Here, he finally found what he hoped for: the dead man’s pistol still in its holster on the side.

  Going cold from his boldness, Adrian firmly grasped the handle and pulled the pistol out. He held it for a second in front of his eyes. Then he released the magazine, checked the remaining rounds, made sure the safety was actuated, and hurriedly tucked it into the insides of his own suit. He felt around the dead man’s torso, looking for extra round boxes, and found two in his inner pockets. Having zipped the bag, Adrian rose up and rushed back to the tailgates: the sounds of shooting ceased.

  Panting, he jumped off, returned the tailgate to roughly its previous position, and, holding his breath, stole a glimpse from behind a truck toward the barrier. The next second the soldiers appeared right in front of him.

  “You’re still here?” David asked, surprised. “The curiosity killed the cat, you know that?”

  “Just wanted to make sure that you guys don’t need any help out there,” Adrian shrugged, forcing a smile. He still felt nauseous. The soldier snorted.

  “Sure, lad. Don’t know how we’d manage without you. Now get lost, will ya?”

  Adrian nodded and walked away, trying with all his might to look natural. He only glanced back once, when he felt the distance was safe. The soldiers were chatting calmly and did not show any excitement about climbing into the truck.

  He hurried his steps.

  Time was running out.