[CONTAINS: Oh mein Gott! Zis Mercenary Base iz full of Blüntsmoken! A.k.a. inaccurate descriptions of marijuana. This one will be good, I can feel it in me bones!]
Flavia tried her best to keep up with Stanislav’s giant steps.
[description of them walking and arriving]
You would be excused for thinking that the place was abandoned, with its demolished buildings and cold concrete. It was empty and barren, except for the one long row of garages still standing.
Outside the entrance to the garage, a lone stalker sat by the metal barrel used as a fire pit. Stanislav did not recognise him and put together that he was a new recruit. He was staring off at something far away, when his head suddenly snapped towards Stanislav.
“Stop!” Seemingly eager to fulfil his job as lookout, he threw himself up from his spot by the fire. He quickly aimed his sub-machine gun towards Stanislav. “Identify yourself!”
Good God, they did not need this right now.
Stanislav put his hands in the air. With every step he took towards the lookout, he could see the suddenly gained confidence draining from the young stalker's eyes. Wow, so he’s that much of a rookie? Has he even seen a mutant before? Alright, let’s not fuck up his first time…
“I’m Vjuga,” he answered clearly, “from the Farm.”
The rookie focused on Stanislav’s face, trying his best to keep it together. Stanislav kept stepping calmly towards him. Does he think I’m some kind of hallucination? A new Zone phenomena he hasn't heard of yet?
“W-what is your purpose?” the lookout demanded.
“I need to talk to Kisel.” He stopped just about a meter in front of the mercenary.
He opened his mouth to speak, probably to order Stanislav to elaborate, but was cut off by the sound of Flavia yawning. He looked down and saw her hiding behind Stanislavs leg.
“What is that?” he asked with badly hidden disgust. Stanislav felt a surge of heat through his body. He could understand fear, but did not tolerate outright repulsion.
Stanislav grabbed the stalker's shoulder, digging his fingers in. The lookout froze in fear and stared at him with wide eyes.
“Mind your own business,” Stanislav growled. “I don’t have time for your bullshit. Tell them Vjuga is here, they know me.” He let go of the stalker’s shoulder with a push towards the door.
The mercenary walked over to the garages, while he kept throwing sceptical looks back at them. He opened the door and went inside. Flavia tugged at his pant leg to get his attention.
What is happening now?, she asked.
“Well, we have to stay somewhere, don’t we?” Stanislav answered with a tired smile. Flavia looked down at the ground.
Lark came back out from the garage.
“You are free to enter!”, he delivered while trying his best to keep his authoritative voice.
“Let’s go then!” He took a few steps before realising Flavia was standing still. Her head was hanging down, staring at her feet.
“Come now, Flavia!” She shook her head in protest. Stanislav sighed, walked over to her and crouched down to her height.
What’s wrong?, he asked, even though he knew the answer. Flavia squeaked in distress and shook her head again. Stanislav sighed softly and patted her on the shoulder before going back to sign:
If he’s there, I will protect you. You don't have to talk to him unless you want to.
“Hey, what’s the holdup?” the young lookout shouted from the open door. Flavia fidgeted with the strings of her hoodie.
I can carry you. Would that make you feel safer? She nodded.
“Alright, then.” He let Flavia climb up to his chest and held her steady. "At least there’s someone in there that likes me, otherwise we wouldn’t have gotten in.”
The lookout held up the door for them. Stanislav felt he should repair any damage he could have possibly created. He wouldn’t let the consequences of his acts go out over any innocent mutated stalkers in the future.
“Thank you,” Stanislav said as they passed, “I’m sorry for acting out like that, it’s been a rough day. Hope I didn’t scare you, that is the furthest thing from what I want.” The guy grumbled something close to “it’s fine” and closed the door behind them.
Behind the door, they were met with a bland, white-painted room. A light smell of weed lingered in the air. In a folding chair put up by an open trapdoor in the ground, one of Stanislavs favorite people was waiting for them, Yurij Andrijovich. His already smiling face lit up when Stanislav entered.
“Hey, Stas! What a nice surprise!” he exclaimed and stood up from the creaking chair. “I hope Lark didn’t give you too much trouble there.”
“His concerns are understandable.” Stanislav said. “Anything new here?”
“Not really, the boys are just celebrating a successful mission with a fresh delivery. I was actually just stepping out for a breather when Lark came and told me you were here..” said Yurij, while his gaze moved down to Flavia, who quickly twisted around and hid her face in Stanislavs shoulder. Yurij grinned at Flavia’s childish gesture.
“Well then, who is this little thing?” he said and leaned down to her height. Stanislav let out a small sigh of relief.
“Her name is Flavia.” Stanislav softly patted his hand on her back. “Can you wave ‘hello’ to Yura?”
Flavia shook her head, burrowing her snout into Stanislav’s shoulder.
“Am I too scary?” the older man laughed. “That’s fair, I guess.”
Yurij always had a soft spot for kids. He would tell thrilling tales about his latest adventures in the Zone to the children playing in his apartment complex' community yard, gaining many disappointed looks from their mothers.
“Well then, Flavia, ladies first!” Yurij said as he opened the door to the
“Is she yours?” Yurij asked from behind his back.
“It's complicated.” Stanislav looked back at him and lowered his tone slightly. "Uhm, are you busy right now?”
“Why, what’s happening?” Yurij looked up at him, concerned. Apparently he had picked up on the slight tremble in Stanislav’s voice.
“Is there anyone here that could watch Flavia for a second?", Stanislav asked. "I really need to talk to you. In private. Please.”
"Yeah, of course!" Yura responded.