Chapter Thirty-Four - Revelation

Crystal let the bullet drop while making a face, then she brushed her hand on the sides of her skirts. "I hate catching bullets. It always leaves like, a film on my hand."

"I think that's melted brass, or whatever metal the bullet is made of," Alice said. "It's quite hot on exiting the barrel, so it wouldn't surprise me that the sudden stop melts some of the material off onto your fingertips."

"It's sticky and gross," Crystal whined. She looked up from her fingers and to Kuzma, who was still holding a revolver pointed towards the girl on the chair. "Can you pass me a tissue?"

Kuzma eyed Crystal, and the tableau held. His men, two in the room, one of them somewhat rudely pushed out of the way and still by the entrance, were not so subtly reaching for guns and in one case, a large knife. "You surprised me a little," Kuzma said with a winning smile. "I didn't expect you to show up like this."

"We do that," Alice said. "Why were you about to shoot the girl?"

Kuzma gently lowered his gun, and he gestured for his men to do the same. "I didn't want to."

"And yet you squeezed the trigger all the same," Crystal said. She saw that she wasn't about to get a tissue, so she gestured in the air and created one from nothing. That had the men tensing up until they saw that she was just using it to rub her fingertips clean.

"You don't understand," Kuzma said.

"You're right, we don't," Alice said. "If I were a little less experienced I'd let the dark swallow you all and call it a day, but I feel like there's more at play here." Alice glanced around, taking in the space. An office, Kuzma's office. A few desks, a terrible computer, some office lamps and a nice view out the back. And tarps, for the blood and for the body, no doubt.

She licked her lips. This place looked ordinary, and yet...

"This feels like a ritual," she said.

Crystal looked up, then sniffed at the air. "Huh, it does, doesn't it? Usually there's like, candles and maybe some blood, for ambiance? Not much like that going on here, though."

Alice stepped more firmly into the room, then she swept a hand across the tape holding the girl's arms down. The other side ripped without her having to touch it, and the girl gasped as she pulled her arms together and rubbed at her wrists. "We'll be with you in a moment," Alice said before turning towards Kuzma. "Start explaining."

"I'd much rather know how you came to be here," Kuzma said. "I was looking for you, but I--"

He stopped mid-sentence as Dream Charter hovered between his eyes. The sword had made no noise escaping its scabbard, nor had its scabbard made any noise as it materialised from the dark to hang by her hip.

Dream Charter was an old friend. Quieter now than it had once been. She'd learned what she had to from the weapon. It was no less quiet as it hovered before Kuzma, but its threat was as loud as a siren. The blade was black, lightless, the pure impossible black only found in the deepest, furthest ends of space. It was swallowing the light and the hopes of anyone who thought they could escape its edge.

"Talk," Alice said.

Kuzma took a small step back. He met Alice's eyes for a long moment, then took another. "The story isn't pleasant," he said.

"I've heard worse," she promised.

He nodded. "It's the Zone. And the storms."

"He's throwing keywords around like a techbro at a conference," Crystal muttered. "Hey, you, go get us something to drink, and get this girl's stuff too."

The guy by the door froze, then took off running. Alice wasn't sure if he was actually going to do either of the things Crystal had asked, but it didn't matter overly much.

"Crystal's right. Explain properly. Assume that we're not familiar with the Zone at all."

Kuzma crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk. Alice's grip and stance on her sword never shifted. The two other men in the room did, fidgeting awkwardly at the silence. "Very well," Kuzma said. "The girl behind you doesn't exist."

"She looks pretty real to me," Crystal muttered.

"Oh, she's flesh and blood, but not real. This is how it happens, there is a storm, and there is a girl. The storm happens, the Zone breathes. New Anomalies happen and old ones are reset. The city in the Zone is shifted. Monsters are born anew and Stalkers caught in the storm disappear or reappear, if they're lucky. And then, there's a girl."

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"This girl," Crystal said.

"She's one of them, yes," Kuzma said. "She appears in Pripyat, sometimes in one of the little towns around the city, sometimes, rarely, in one of the cities further south. The girl has an idea. She's lost someone, a friend, a sister, a father. Something, a few times. For whatever reason, she needs to go into the Zone."

"Go on," Alice said.

"The girl walks. Almost always alone. Sometimes she encounters bandits and dies. Sometimes she steps on a mine. But the girl is always a little lucky. Luck is the best thing a Stalker can have, you know?"

"And this girl makes her way here?" Alice asked.

"Sometimes. Often she comes close. Everyone who is anyone knows to keep an eye out," Kuzma sighed. "The other faction leaders have done what I have to do as well. Some more gently than others. A pill in her meal is as kind as a bullet to the head, I suppose, but it's not as fast."

"This is sounding a little messed up," Crystal said.

"Oh, it is. I thought one of you might be the girl, but there are two of you, and she is never with a companion, at least not another girl. Always always alone," Kuzma said.

"And what is the girl after?" Alice asked.

"Fuck if I know," Kuzma said. "But the last man who ran the camp told me with his dying breath that I was to never let her get it. She's not a real person, so what she's looking for can't be real either."

Alice turned towards the girl who was glaring at Kuzma for all she was worth, and yet she was still keeping mum. Her jaw looked like it was working, but she wasn't speaking up. Did she still feel threatened? She hadn't stood yet.

"How do you know she's not real?" Crystal asked.

"We're not fools," Kuzma said. "I've paid for the research myself. Asked some of them for as many details as possible. Their home address? Always an abandoned apartment. Their gear? Grabbed from a locker or stolen or just picked off a corpse. No family. No neighbours. No dental records, finger prints, no ID. No teacher that remembers them, nothing. One girl with no past? That's possible. A girl with no past appearing every week?" He shook his head. "Not even in the Zone is that normal."

"So you kill her?" Crystal asked.

"That seems drastic," Alice said.

"It's the only way. If you keep her locked up, she finds a way out. There's a sympathetic idiot, or if your men are smart and loyal, the prison breaks. A window isn't secured even if you checked personally, the door fails to lock, lightning strikes and sets off a fire that happens to short an electric lock on the other end of the compound." He shook his head. "Imprisoning her isn't possible. She always gets away."

"And giving her what she wants?" Crystal asked.

Kuzma scoffed. "Not going to happen. I had some men follow one of the girls once. Once. She circled the Zone, stumbled past patrols and monsters, set off traps that barely did not kill her, but always she circled in, always deeper."

"Always heading towards what?" Alice asked.

"Fuck if I know," he said. "My boys took her out after two days, as agreed. It set off the next storm and everyone was happy."

"Wait, the storms only happen when she dies?" Crystal asked.

He nodded. "Like clockwork. One day later. The leaders in the Zone, we all let each other know. It's more accurate than any of the science boy's best prediction gear."

Alice glanced at Crystal. "This is definitely a ritual at this point."

"Oh yeah," Crystal said. "Classic, I guess. I mean, not in the trappings, but like, the steps? A sacrifice for an effect. That's ritual 101."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kuzma said.

"That's fine," Alice said. "We're taking the girl and heading out."

"I can't let you do that," Kuzma said.

Alice didn't notice what signal he used to tell his men to raise their guns their way.

It didn't matter. In the time it took light to create a shadow, Kuzma and his two guards were gently slumping to the floor, eyes glassy and minds gone.

"I think," Alice said as she turned around and sheathed Dream Charter. "That it's time that we leave. And I think we'll be taking you with us."

***