Guidance

[Corsair]

As I opened my eyes after a good bit of rest, my vision was blurry. Fuzzy, and as I sat up, some brisk rubbing cleared them. I saw the sleeping shapes of my rescuers laying next to a puttering fire. There were a two sentries, sitting on the damp ground, watching out for anybody approaching. They had sawed-off shotguns in their laps, and I could see their armor was the common trench coat favored by rookies and bandits. I scooted closer to the fire, and the sentries turned their heads to me, nodded, and turned back to the landscape.

I poked the coals back to life, and lay some damp wood to the side of it to dry. I took a look at where I was, and saw a grassland, pocketed by several lakes smaller than the one I landed in. I turned to the direction of some footsteps behind me, and saw a can of "Tourist's Breakfast" put in front of my face. I take it gratefully, cracking the top and scooping out the contents. The one who handed it to me was also the man who gave me the antirads.

"Feeling better, Skip?" He said, in fluent Ukrainian. I figured that Russian, as close as it is, might sound rude. I slipped into the native mindset. "Yeah, much better. I might be puking up my guts if you hadn't given me the antirads. Timely rescue, my friend."

"We saw your bike fly apart. Your stuff's all been carried off by mutants, and we can't support a new man. Comrade Skip, I hope you can understand where this was going."

I sure did. They were kicking me out, but being as generous as possible about it. "Yeah, I understand. You kept me alive, that's all I can ask for. I'll figure out the Zone on my own." My friend's face clouded for a moment. Then, he handed me his PDA. "Listen, brother. I'll give you my PDA- I can get a new one from Sidrovich. I've marked the location of the rookie camp. You head straight there. We'll give you a shooter so the mutants don't get you. There's hardly anything all the way out here, just a couple of boars and dogs. Bandits don't bother with the rookies out here, neither do the military. Just head straight there, keep your wits about you, and you'll reach the camp intact. Rest up, and we'll have to ask you to go at noon. Good luck, comrade, and I'm sure we'll meet again."

He didn't give much room for conversation. As soon as he was done talking, he made some hand gestures to a sentry, who got me a slightly dirty shotgun, and some shells. "It'll take some cleaning, but it'll work. You're about a two hours' march from the rookie camp. We're going to be heading there after we finish our business out here."

I turned to the sentry, and asked, "Can I ask who you guys are?" He smiled. "Sure can. You won't get an answer you'll like, though." I shrugged. He chuckled. "We're a group of scientists. We might look like normal stalkers, but that's just to keep the mercs and such from looting us." I nodded. "Good idea. Well, clear skies to you brother, I think I'll be headed off now."

As I walked away, I could hear the sentry mutter, "Clear Sky.. Now that's a name."

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