When they stepped out of the house together, the sunset was dying beyond the forest. Behind the dark, ragged tops of the pines stretched yellow, orange, and crimson streaks, mingled with pale blue patches of clouds. Farther west, the sky was darkening; above their heads it was already a deep, cold blue, streaked with gray clouds, and toward the east it turned almost to ink.

  The truck waited behind the hut, beyond a low wattle fence. Abdellah scratched his head. Salzman sighed and pulled out a cigarette. Inny supported Radiant. It seemed now that she was afraid to step even a few paces away from him.

  “Thank you for everything,” Radiant said, turning back. He tugged the strap of his precious backpack, which, apart from the artifacts, now held a small medkit, a few grey spheres of Diavants, a pack of cash—just in case—a pot, and a lighter. There was also spare ammo for his pistol, the Uzi, and for a simple hunting rifle. The knife he had hidden in his boot. His coveralls, boots, cloak, and gas mask fit him perfectly, although he struggled to recognize them. They radiated a strange energy, the warmth of the man who had worn them only recently.

  “It’s all right,” Basilisse nodded. “The Zone is with you, and may luck travel by your side. I hope you can shake off your pursuers and find stronger protectors. The Worms are a dangerous enemy, and Aquilles—more dangerous still. You don’t know what kind of man he is, or what he’s capable of doing to reach his goals.”

  “Thank you,” muttered Salzman, puffing out smoke. “Really… thank you for helping us make sense of what happened. Well, we’d better get going. If we hurry, we’ll reach the Frontier before curfew.”

  “Don’t forget, Radiant,” the woman reminded him seriously when Abdellah was already in the driver’s seat, Inny climbed in beside him, and Salzman was finishing his cigarette, leaning against the truck door. “Keep an eye on the meter and remember—at least once every forty-eight hours. Don’t push it to the limit or try to experiment.”

  “I’ll try.” Radiant rummaged through his pockets and found a small tobacco pouch. Interesting—apparently the suit’s previous owner had grown his own. Inside was a curious mixture of potent herbs, which he packed into a cigarette with some hesitation. “So, you’re advising I go forward? Inside the Zone? And how am I going to figure out what to do next?”

  “I’m not advising anything,” Basilisse shook her head. “I’m no advisor—I’m a mediator. And don’t look for me here again. My task was only to help you out of this mess, because the Zone wanted it that way. You won’t get a second chance… But if you want my advice, run. Your enemies will try to drive you off your path. But you should press forward. Once you’re inside the First Perimeter, you will get another sign.”

  “I will,” Radiant nodded. He dropped his cigarette, ground it into the dirt with his army boot, and climbed up beside Salzman onto the hard, patched seat of the truck. He waved to Basilisse, she only nodded in reply. Abdellah turned the ignition key; the truck roared to life, growled, and the smell of gasoline filled the cabin. The engine rattled beneath the massive hood. Radiant rolled up the window, glanced at Salzman, at pale Inny. Salzman wasn’t smiling. The wipers sluggishly scraped water, pine needles, and sand from the windshield.

  The truck backed up slightly, shuddered, and began to move, bumping along the barely visible path between the bushes, heading down toward the forest road that led farther and farther away, toward the foot of the hill, the highway, and the village beyond. The witch’s hut was left behind. They turned, jolting over ruts. Radiant looked out the window and no longer saw the wooden cabin with its soot-blackened chimney, the wattle fence, or the thin smoke rising into the transparent sky. The house was gone. The clearing where it had stood lay untouched and empty.

  Abdellah muttered a prayer. His eyes locked on the road, straining to see through the twilight of the wet forest, narrowly avoiding tree trunks along the way. Above the trees flitted a flock of bats. Somewhere, dogs howled, the echo rolled among the trees that covered the southern slope of the hill. Abdellah cursed quietly for a while, then couldn’t take it anymore, flipped a switch, and the headlights came on. Two beams of cold, lifeless white light struck the dark road, lighting their way. The dashboard glowed faintly.

  “Fuel’s running out,” the driver muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Didn’t have time to fill the tank, left the canisters up there. We were in such a rush to escape from the Quake…”

  “How long will it last?” Salzman asked anxiously.

  “Half an hour, maybe less.”

  “Let’s hope that’s enough,” Salzman grumbled. “As for me, I’m dead tired. I just want to rest properly in the “Sarcophagus” Bar. They’ve got good drinks and decent beds, almost no bugs.”

  Radiant said nothing, adjusting the rifle hanging at his hip. Inny stared tensely through the windshield, almost absently cleaning the barrel of one of the sawed-off shotguns lying under the glove compartment. The truck moved slowly, rocking. Salzman rolled up his sleeve and checked his watch—it was seven in the evening.

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  They drove only a little farther before the headlights began to flicker and dim, the engine roared and sputtered, clearly on its last breath. Then Abdellah steered the truck beneath the branches of an old, dead oak split by lightning, where they finally stopped, hidden behind the bushes. Abdellah got out first, set the handbrake, cursed, and slammed the door. The others, weary and half-asleep, climbed out the other side. Salzman said nothing—only sighed and slung his Uzi over his shoulder. Watching Radiant and Inny prepare, he said quietly:

  “Listen… In case we have to split up. There’s only one road here—it leads down. If you keep heading south, keeping the hilltop on your left, you’ll reach the highway eventually. There’s a small ravine with fallen trees—you’ll have to pass it too. It’s only a couple of kilometers, but who knows what might happen. I’ve no idea how fast Aquilles can regenerate.”

  Radiant nodded.

  “In the village, I know Major Scimitar and his people,” Salzman continued. “I’ve helped them before, so they owe me one. Either way, tell them Albert Salzman sent you, and they’ll do a lot for you. You won’t go hungry or without shelter.”

  Abdellah adjusted his Uzi. Salzman stood still for a moment, then started down the steep, root-covered path. The others followed, unfamiliar with the trail.

  It wasn’t fully dark yet, and outside the truck, through the dirty windows, they could see the road stretching ahead. The truck, with its dead headlights, was left behind as they descended farther and farther, heading for the edge of the forest. The blind hounds were howling somewhere far off still, but everyone knew how quickly they could move when hunting.

  “A pack of maybe ten, fifteen,” Abdellah muttered. “There are four of us, and ammo’s not endless. If those blind dogs catch our scent…”

  “Be glad there’s nothing worse than blind hounds here,” Salzman grimaced. “Beyond the First Perimeter, we ran into mutant wolves, boars… and plenty of zombies roam freely there. Poor souls who got their brains burned by a Quake. We wouldn’t stand a chance against them. Here—let’s hope luck’s on our side.”

  “As always,” Inny smirked. “It did not help them today, though.”

  “Whom?”

  “Professor Montellini, Edward, Dr. Crates… The guards who defended the Institute. Seems that their luck had turned away.”

  “Don’t think about it,” Salzman warned, clenching his jaw.

  “What’s our plan, anyway? Radiant must go into the Zone. Are we following him? We don’t have his powers to survive there.”

  “No, we can’t follow him, not until the path is open for humans. But we can make sure that no one else will.”

  “The path is open?” Radiant asked, joining the conversation. “What do you mean?”

  “The path through the anomaly barrier. I think, once you get inside, you can find out how to make a trail there. And hopefully, do something to reduce the radiation or wipe anomalies away. Like you did in that tunnel… Oh, damn, you don’t remember now, do you?”

  Radiant shook his head.

  “I think that should be the goal,” Salzman concluded wearily. “That you get to Flux and try to open the path for us. And we will try to keep Aquilles away as long as we can.”

  “Why is he after you, doc? “ Abdellah asked. “He clearly wanted to kill you personally, among all other things.”

  “Before this morning, I thought Aquilles had lost my trail in the Zone—that I’d managed to shake him and hide. But no. I’ve stirred up the hornet’s nest again. He won’t stop now, unless I get the hell out of here. As for why he wants to kill me… that was a long time ago, Abdelah, that’s an old feud. We just see the same things in completely opposite ways, and neither of us can let it go. Aquilles tries to prove me wrong, and I—out of stubbornness—won’t yield an inch. That’s what happened this time, too. But this time, it wasn’t just about me. It was about Inny and Ad—hm, Radiant—so I had no choice but to reject his ultimatum. God knows, I did not expect to meet him today. Not mentioning the Worms. Time will tell if I was right or not.”

  Radiant absently touched his forearm, feeling the cold metal beneath the skin.

  “I will do my best to protect you both,” Salzman said as they stepped onto a tiny clearing among the trees. “But Aquilles allied with the Worms… This is the most dangerous alliance the Zone has ever seen. It could happen we can’t win this fight, even with all forces in the Zone who hate the Treaty.”

  “Will HADES help?” Abdellah asked grimly. “Or they have left us here for dead?”

  “I will try to convince them, once we’re at the Frontier, and there is a satellite phone. But this is not a conflict between HADES and the Treaty. For now, while we’re here, it’s between us and an immortal delusional maniac, who is obsessed with the idea of avenging me and destroying the Zone. The company might send us some support, but they might also choose not to intervene, to avoid a scandal. Today has shown that we are disposable.”

  They stopped at the edge of a small clearing. On the other side, Radiant saw a sharp drop—a moss-covered cliff and a narrow rocky fissure, from which the branches of dead trees rose upward like the withered hands of corpses.

  “There it is,” Salzman murmured. “Thank the Zone, we’ve almost made it. But we’re not crossing this clearing. I don’t like the look of it—”

  “Quiet,” Radiant warned, raising his hand. The pistol’s grip slid smoothly into his palm. He stepped forward, motioning for the others to stop, and peered out from behind the trees. The slope was growing steeper. The path wound down between the sparse trunks of birch and aspen, skirting the bush-covered edge of the ravine. There, not far from the dense thicket, padding through the yellow carpet of October leaves, a blind dog prowled—huge, gray, with a patchy coat and pricked ears. Its eyes stared blankly into space, its wet nose brushing the ground.

  “What the hell is this?” Salzman whispered, gasping and pointing at the dog. “You see this?”

  Radiant and Inny nodded at once.

  The blind dog was wearing a collar.