In the outskirts of the Village, most of the wooden houses had rotted to the core. Some even lost all kinds of structural hold, and fell in on themselves or slided into sideways piles.
All this old, unused wood was the perfect fuel for the fires in the Center keeping the cold stalkers happy. It was a highly paid task to collect the planks and the fight for who would get this job had been intense.
Eventually a relatively new stalker in his late twenties named Anatoliy had been employed, since he had an impressive variety of tools brought with him from the Big Land. He kept this job for many months and from this he became known as Tochil’shik, Woodborer.
Tolya: Wow, when did you get that?
Zajats: Years ago, the summer when I first became a stalker.
Tolya: Well, what happened?
Zajats: I had been collecting artefacts in the forest not far from the mercenary bunkers. I was walking back home, on top of the ridge of the big field. I was sweaty and dehydrated, so I had taken off my jacket. My idea was to cool down in the breeze up on the ridge, but the Zone had other plans. A thin sheet of metal, about as big as my hand, came flying through the air and before I could react, it hit me. It cut through my t-shirt and lodged itself right here, in my trapezius.
Tolya: Holy shit.
Zatochka: I’m the reason he survived.
Zajats: I could have made it without you.
Zatochka: You wouldn't have thought that with how he was begging for help.
Zajats: Because I saw you down the road and knew it would be easier with help!
Zatochka: Sure, keep telling yourself that.
[Pause]
Zajats: …here, go buy Tolya a bottle.
Zatochka: Hah, I see what you’re doing. You’re paying me to leave!
Zajats: …and get one for yourself too.
Zatochka: Fine, I’ll leave you and your lumberjack boyfriend alone.
[pause]
Tolya: You didn’t have to do that
Zajats: Believe me, it's better to get rid of him now. Once he starts, he won't shut up.
Tolya: He doesn't seem to like you much, heh…
Zajats: He doesn't. I don't like him either. Matter of fact we've never said anything nice to each other since we first met. He thinks I owe him for “saving my life”, so he sticks around and laps up any money he can get out of me.
Tolya: Why not just put a bullet in him while he sleeps and move on? You’re not one to flinch at that.
Zajats: I wish I could… But, he has valuable connections.
Tolya: Oh, I get it. It’s pretty hard to kill someone who knows someone, who knows someone who could send a whole army after you, heh…
Zajats: Yeah, that too, but I meant that he’s actually useful to keep around, believe it or not. Through him I get access to the mercenaries and their wares, and I get significantly lower prices. So he is right in some way. He hasn’t saved my life, but he definitely makes it easier. At the cost of having to deal with his charming personality, of course.
[Pause]
Tolya: Continue with your story.
Zajats: Oh, right. Well, Zatochka eventually came over to me with his pistol pointed at me, like the coward he is, and after I waved some rubles at him, he agreed on escorting me to the mercenary base. They took the scrap out, patched me up and I had to get out of the Zone to heal. That was the worst part. I had no money outside of the few rubles I got from selling artefacts to Scrooge, and you know how he is with dumb rookies.
Tolya: You’re lucky if you get more than a breadcrumb.
Zajats: Mmm. I slept behind dumpsters and rotted away trying to find someone who would hire a seventee-year-old who couldn’t properly use his right arm.
Tolya: And then you returned.
Zajats: Of course. Anything was better than Galkovaja. I was marked by the Zone, as all of us are. I guess she just did it a bit more aggressively with me.
Tolya: Mmm.
Zajats: I often think about what would have happened in my life if I kept my jacket on. I wouldn’t have hurt my shoulder, I wouldn’t have had to leave the Zone. Maybe that summer would have just continued being a one-time thing, and I’d have a normal job.
[Pause]
Zajats: I've also thought of this; that being a stalker is like sex, and the Zone is the dirtiest hooker in the world. You always have to wear protection-
Zatochka: What a philosopher, huh? Тochilka, catch!
Tolya: Op! Thanks. How much do I owe you, Pasha?
Zatochka: A billion rubles.
Zajats: Nothing, it’ll even out.