Post by kilroy on Aug 31, 2014 20:42:57 GMT -5
Alexi pulled the gas mask over his face as the light of the surface threatened to blind him. Taking a deep breath, he found it to be safe as he climbed into the still toxic air, then crouched at the top.
The station was silent beyond the occasional creak and groan of rusting metal and rotting wood. Shafts of light filtered in through the dusty air, and a layer of it coated everything in the station. He carefully raise his Mosin, scanning the area for any Howlers or Demons as he prepared to move into the open.
Silence, no howls or screeches, no flapping wings, nothing. He walked slowly, putting up the Mosin and replacing it with his Bastard Gun. He moved slowly, just like the older stalkers had taught him too, heading towards the old doors.
The light blinded him as he took a moment to let his eyes adjust, a chilly wind ripped across the destroyed landscape of Moscow. Even with springs arrival, the air still held the resilient chill of nuclear winter, and it was amplified by the giant monoliths that once housed mankind.
His father had called them skyscrapers, great buildings where people lived and worked. Alexi new nothing of what his father and mother called Old Moscow, other than what postcards and stories told him. He'd spent all his life down in the Metro, sleeping in his families train car apartment in Polis.
He eyed the Library near by, knowing that it wasn't worth going in alone to face it's guardians. He then looked up at the distant Kremlin, with its strange attraction. Shaking himself out of it, he spotted his usual hide, an overturned delivery truck. Climbing in, he lowered the door on the back and sat down to scan his list.
Alexi always kept a list of valued items to hunt for on the surface. Weapons and MGRs were at the top of his list, followed up by fuel, books for Polis, and items and tools to keep the station running. Last where special requests and basic items, anything that regular people wanted or needed.
The station was silent beyond the occasional creak and groan of rusting metal and rotting wood. Shafts of light filtered in through the dusty air, and a layer of it coated everything in the station. He carefully raise his Mosin, scanning the area for any Howlers or Demons as he prepared to move into the open.
Silence, no howls or screeches, no flapping wings, nothing. He walked slowly, putting up the Mosin and replacing it with his Bastard Gun. He moved slowly, just like the older stalkers had taught him too, heading towards the old doors.
The light blinded him as he took a moment to let his eyes adjust, a chilly wind ripped across the destroyed landscape of Moscow. Even with springs arrival, the air still held the resilient chill of nuclear winter, and it was amplified by the giant monoliths that once housed mankind.
His father had called them skyscrapers, great buildings where people lived and worked. Alexi new nothing of what his father and mother called Old Moscow, other than what postcards and stories told him. He'd spent all his life down in the Metro, sleeping in his families train car apartment in Polis.
He eyed the Library near by, knowing that it wasn't worth going in alone to face it's guardians. He then looked up at the distant Kremlin, with its strange attraction. Shaking himself out of it, he spotted his usual hide, an overturned delivery truck. Climbing in, he lowered the door on the back and sat down to scan his list.
Alexi always kept a list of valued items to hunt for on the surface. Weapons and MGRs were at the top of his list, followed up by fuel, books for Polis, and items and tools to keep the station running. Last where special requests and basic items, anything that regular people wanted or needed.