Opalescence- the Secret of Pripyat Read online

  The tone of his voice showed a certain pride that seemed to annoy Egor.

  —I see.

  He turned to me.

  —What the hell are you doing here?

  —I’m a journalist, I’m doing a report on the Zone and those who explore it.

  Egor frowned and moaned. He did not appreciate my answer and seemed suspicious. Andrei noticed it and tried to calm the situation.

  —Don’t worry, he doesn’t stay very long and I’ll always be with him. We can trust him. Isn’t that right?

  He winked at me.

  Egor coughed loudly as he expelled snot everywhere. He pushed a swearword and began to clean his jacket with his hands. Andrei gave me a sneaky, somewhat embarrassed look. Egor finally managed to calm his cough and spoke again.

  —Tell me Andrei, are you still hanging out with Oleksandr? That crooked dog!

  —Do you know Oleksandr?” I asked, turning to Andrei.

  —Everyone knows him here, Egor replied. If I see him, I’ll break his jaw.

  He moved while spitting on the ground.

  —They had a little disagreement,” Andrei breathed to me. Oleksandr is very discreet right now. I think he is no longer interested in the Zone and prefers to spend his time in Kiev with his family.

  Egor growled like a bear, before scraping his shaggy beard, scattering the ice crystals that had lodged in it. He then coughed violently into a kind of respiratory rash, expelling unidentified elements everywhere.

  —Good for him to stay,” he replied, wiping the mud off his chin. Oleksandr is a jerk, I’d kill him if he ever decided to come here.

  Andrei was looking to lighten the mood:

  —Tell us Egor, how many years have you been walking the Zone?

  —Alas, too much, but it’s my fault. I’ve grown too fond of it to give it up. It is true that time erodes a little what remains of it, but I will never be tired.

  I noticed that Egor was holding a flask of alcohol in his large, hairy hands. It was a cheap vodka, with no visible label. The taste was probably despicable, but the satisfaction he got from it after emptying it made me jealous.

  We stayed for long hours talking. Later, our conversation shifted to the disaster topic. Egor’s testimony could be useful to me for my report. He liked to talk about himself. He lived alone, as a recluse in the Zone, but his desire to capture attention was intact. I questioned him relentlessly. He told me about his wanderings, his discoveries. Egor seemed very informed. Apparently, he had a close relative who was in the plant at the time of death. Kind of like me after all. He described the famous April 26, 1986, to me as if he had been there himself.

  —The employees were playing cards the night of the accident. There was a big sloppiness, nothing to do with it now. Today, if a hammer falls on a staff member’s toe, the whole country is aware of it and endless inspection procedures are launched. The plants are much better operated. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that the risk is insignificant, but I mean, it’s just like that.

  —Yes, certainly, but that does not prevent new accidents from occurring. Besides, do Stalkers exist in Japan?

  He swept the space with a wave of his hand.

  —No… well, what’s the point… And it’s not comparable with Ukraine. Nothing will ever be comparable with this place.

  He had spoken these last words with a seriousness I did not suspect him of. We left each other on this last remark, Egor returning to his lair and us to our slum. I was trying to fall asleep.

  I left the tent in the early morning. The dawn and its orange shades unfolded peacefully. I had a new curiosity to satisfy. I wanted to go to the hospital in Pripyat, the basement to be precise. I informed Andrei to arrange a visit together. He immediately accepted. The next day, we found ourselves in front of the building. He had a big smile on his face, rather proud to have seen me change my mind: “After you, my friend! “he asked, with a wink as unsettling as it was intriguing.

  I entered the armed building with a thousand precautions. 44 microsieverts. The counter was begging. Above my shoulder, I heard: “Stop that thing, it’ll drive you crazy.” I took Andrei’s advice and turned it off. We were now alone in the face of danger.

  At the bottom of corridor 4 was an armoured door. No one really knew what was on the other side. The archival documents suggested sensitive medical equipment. Some speculated that there would be a secret reserve where poison and useful substances would be stored during the Cold War. A waste of time according to Andrei. The access key had been lost. The door was impassable, even with the most prodigious force. “There’s something more interesting, follow me,” he says.

  I should have been terrified or overexcited, but I remained impassive. Basically, it was just another building, although a little more dangerous than the others. Garbage was littering the ground. The air was dirty and humid. Mould was eating away at some walls. We were progressing slowly, but without fear. Andrei was in conquered territory. He rejoiced to have me with him and to guide me into the dark depths of Pripyat.

  We arrived in a small warehouse. Andrei lit up the room with his headlamp revealing rows of vials and utensils of all kinds. Some containers still contained liquids with multicoloured shades. The labels were missing or unreadable. “The bastards! “Andrei was angry. Apparently individuals had stolen elements. Objects from the Zone were sold on the Darknet and elsewhere. Some slightly disturbed collectors did not hesitate to spend countless amounts to make them their own and make themselves look interesting. But it wasn’t just medical equipment. Clothes were piled up. The fabrics were wrinkled, kneaded.

  In the next room was a mattress and a small refrigerator. I laid my hand on the dusty handle. I was ready to open it, but at the last moment I stopped my action. Out of curiosity, I turned on the Geiger counter again. 54 microsieverts. Every second I spent here drastically increased my chances of developing cancer or worse.

  I called Andrei, but I couldn’t. He had vaguely said something to me before he disappeared, I had already forgotten. He was probably busy photographing the site and identifying anomalies. My concern was incipient. Alone, I didn’t feel safe. In addition, I was suffering from a terrible headache, which made the situation suffocating. I felt a hand on my shoulder. Instinctively, I turned around and grabbed the man by the throat, ready to kill him. Andrei looked at me both panicked and smiling.

  —Shall we go?” he asked.

  —Yes, I want to get out of here.

  —I really thought you were gonna hit me, you know.

  —So do I. I’m on edge right now. I feel like the Zone is making me impulsive.

  —In that case, maybe it’s time for you to leave her.

  These last words left me pensive. Should I have put an end to my wanderings? How can I be convinced to leave the exclusion zone and especially what to do once outside? My life would be bland, the stakes flat and futile.

  The Zone had attracted me to it and now kept me in it. Like a spider, she had woven her web, trapping my reason and judgment. I was captive and aware of it. Paradoxically, the Zone had also liberated me by satisfying the identity and existential quest that had been pulling me since childhood.

  I didn’t want to run away. There was still so much to discover. I decided to stay a little bit longer.

  Chapter 5 — Cataract

  15 h 34.

  The sun was advanced in the sky, the wind remained calm. A very slight mist emanated from the forest. The conditions were ideal.

  My GPS indicated the route to Pripyat. I carefully followed the path until I spotted the junction I was waiting for. It was necessary to weave between swamps and then take the small alleyway that went towards the trees. It was there. I had finally reached the entrance to the Red Forest. Ecstatic, I meticulously parked my car and then set off on the track.

  The path was dark, dotted with deformed shrubs and disturbing plant structures. Many signs indicated the radioactive hazard. They lined the path like amulets,
trying to alert the visitor to the danger waiting for him. It would take more than that to talk me out of it.

  Although unaware of my destination, I walked with great strides, in a hurry and impatient, determined to penetrate the impenetrable. I rushed through the trees, letting the forest suck me in. I wanted to reach its heart, to sink deeper and deeper into its very heart.

  The woods surrounded me, they seemed to be watching my progress. A seductive fragrance came out of it and disturbed my senses. This olfactory distraction almost made me forget the radiation. The meter was starting to panic. I looked around.

  18 microsieverts.

  It was still reasonable. I didn’t care, I continued on my way. My mind was a little foggy, detached from my usual concerns. Arrived at another junction, I turned left in a completely random way. I was particularly fond of the idea of letting myself be guided by my steps. Do not anticipate a direction, do not follow a course. Trust my instincts, the one that only too rarely betrayed me.

  My journey was sometimes arduous. Sometimes I felt compelled to overcome certain obstacles. In particular, I was forced to cross a frozen river. The undertaking was dangerous and, since the ice was breaking in some places, I had to be skilful. However, I ignored my soaked feet and persevered in my progress, imperturbable.

  It was snowing very hard, but the sky was clear, almost immaculate. The sound of the meter did not fade.

  24 microsieverts.

  I didn’t care and repeated my effort, driven by an intense shiver of excitement. My breathing was accelerating. I wanted to push the limits, to extend my progress to the limits of this forest.

  Nevertheless, I was forced to stop.

  Obviously, I had followed a dead end path. The path seemed to disappear on what looked like a tiny cemetery. A handful of graves lay there, dilapidated and partially buried. They were arranged in a disorderly manner, as if they had been built in haste and without any desire for coherence. No names, inscriptions or religious symbols were displayed. The layout was irregular and seemed confusing. The graves looked menacing, but they didn’t frighten me. I went around them, with a placid mind, looking for traces of a trail at the foot of the trees.

  I wanted to sneak through the forest, wander beyond. I perceived a rift between bushes, a path seemed to be emerging. I ignored the spiky brambles and committed myself to them. Shrubs blocked my way, but I didn’t care. Little reddish thorns challenged me, but I despised them.

  Something was arousing my curiosity. I thought I could see a sound pattern in the background. A mysterious metallic whispering was coming to me. Maybe it was the wind that mixed with the whining on the meter? Maybe that noise was made by a machine or an animal?

  My ears were tightened, I tried to identify this auditory sensation that hovered as a fiery threat. The sound was catching up with me. Almost sibylline, it was a prisoner of its enigmatic frequencies. A state of trance was emerging in me. I looked back, touched by the idea of turning back. However, I was unable to turn back: the forest attracted me, its aura was irresistible. I had no choice. I had to continue at all costs.

  I made the decision to crawl to slip under a tangle of brambles. I kept moving forward. My steps were now energetic and in a hurry, I was doped by a senseless excitement. The meter was screaming relentlessly. He shouted more and more, becoming almost unbearable.

  38 microsieverts.

  I was stubborn, inflexible and determined. The vegetation was confusing. It was not abnormal in itself, but it seemed to be imbued with the state of floating in me. It was invasive without being suffocating.

  I finally arrived in a small glade, delimited by thick bushes and branches of unreal dimensions.

  The air was filled with fragrances, as seductive as they were mysterious. The temporality seemed to have been altered. On the ground, the roots of the trees were very visible and intertwined in an almost sacral disorder. I had an ambiguous feeling, a state divided between plenitude and misunderstanding. The forest seemed more elusive to me than ever before, even though I had reached his heart. I still didn’t know what I was looking for. A sensational feeling? The enjoyment of the broken taboo? Various thoughts absorbed me.

  56 microsieverts.

  I was gradually losing consciousness of my wooded environment, my mind was going astray. It was lost in idyllic dreams. A big hare crossed right in front of me. It was alone and paid no attention to me. My eyes followed him with a blissful look as if they were distinguishing this kind of animal for the first time. I could have spent hours wandering through the woods, captivated by this bewitching and bucolic atmosphere.

  66 microsieverts.

  Esoteric introspections attacked me. The wind had slackened, nature had fallen silent in a shattering silence. The cold was almost imperceptible. I was as if wrapped in an exquisite dream, a soft cocoon with infinite limits. A delicious nonchalance had set in. The air was soft. I felt light, indifferent. The forest had taken possession of me. Consenting, I closed my eyes to let myself be caught by this misty monster.

  ***

  74 microsieverts.

  The squeaks of the meter eventually brought me to my senses. Two hours had passed since I entered this forest and deep snow had begun to fall.

  Without hesitation, I turned back, walking at full speed in order to precede the night that was coming. I tried to find my previous steps, the traces would still be present, preserved by the powder snow.

  At the junctions, I knew exactly which directions to take. The trajectory was still fresh in my mind. However, some details seemed to me to be new, such as this embankment surmounted by an incomprehensible sign or this stream which seemed much wider than before. Anyway, I probably didn’t pay enough attention during my first visit.

  As I walked backwards, I still noticed that the snow had removed the oldest traces. Little disturbed, I decided to follow my intuition. About thirty minutes passed. The brightness gradually dimmed and I was still having increasing difficulty identifying the spots. I remained calm, convinced of the goodwill of this forest.

  I finally found the frozen river I had crossed: no remnants of broken ice, the surface was smooth and unaltered. There was no evidence of my previous visit. This was not so surprising, the cold had probably intensified a lot during my walk. The water had solidified again, understandably. Not very disturbed, I crossed calmly. My movements were methodical, the ice would not give way. Confident of myself, I reached the opposite shore.

  The atmosphere had changed somewhat, but the forest was still as bewitching as ever. A few more meters and I’ll reach the edge of the woods. I rushed, a little reassured to have avoided a tragedy. My vehicle was not far away. Only a few more seconds and I’ll be there. It must have been near the big tree right next to the log. Or rather near the birch tree that bordered the river. Well, no, it must have been on a shoulder further south. Yes, that must have been it, I probably parked it discreetly to avoid attention.

  The light faded as the darkness of the winter night's spread. I was shivering. The cold was getting biting and gusts were starting to blow. I needed a shelter. The impermeability of my gloves seemed to diminish, I felt more and more the frostbite that was eating my fingers. I rubbed my hands vigorously, pressing them against my chest. It was a survival technique I had learned on television. However, my defences were weakening. My face was lacerated by ever more powerful icy gusts. I took a circular and distraught look at it. I felt like prey hunted by an imperceptible, but omnipresent enemy. I gathered my courage and started thinking at full speed. The landscape seemed identical to my memories, yet it was not the right place.

  I swore loud and clear: “Kurva!”

  The poison of doubt was spreading in me. The screams of the counter did not help concentration. I remembered Andrei’s warnings. “No one will pick you up there.” My unease was growing and I had no desire to spend the night in this forest. I didn’t want to do it because the prospect of a wild nightmare terrified me so much. I shouted for help, beggin
g with all my strength. The echo back of my voice slapped my face. I shouted more loudly, burning my lungs in a monstrous effort. My pleas remained unheard. With my hands in visor to protect myself, I tried at all costs to move forward, to survive a little longer. Stumbling and out of breath, I was forced to slow down. My sight was blurred, my senses were diminished. Exhaustion was watching me. Slowly, the darkness enveloped me.

  A powerful heaviness inhabited my body. My limbs seemed inert and uncontrollable. I wasn’t dead. My conscience suggested thoughts to me. I still had a survival instinct. I felt that strong hands were grabbing me and I was leaving the ground. I could feel the change in gravity that was happening and the caresses of the wind on my face. I was trying to understand, to interpret these feelings. Oleksandr carried me on his back in a rather primary way, a bit like carrying a bag of rice up a hill.

  Was he my saviour? How did he find me? I was unable to say anything.

  “You look very pale.” He said, looking amused.

  Oleksandr seemed much less dull than usual. Was he bipolar? I had never seen a smile before. It took me almost to die to see him sketch a positive emotion. He was incomprehensible, but almost endearing. The bugger seemed almost satisfied to find me in this state. He took me to his vehicle and placed me in the back while dressing me in a survival blanket. Oleksandr stood at the front and started the 4x4 whistling. I struggled to keep my eyelids open and keep a visual record of what was happening. The heating and fatigue got the better of me. I fell asleep in a few seconds.

  When I woke up, I instantly understood that I was no longer in the Zone. Something had changed. Something perceptible and striking enough for me to notice immediately. A glance through the window was sufficient to convince me definitively. The sky was different, devoid of the hues of the Zone. I was watching the room around me. It was Oleksandr’s place. He brought me back with him to the suburbs of Kiev. It seemed unreal to me to find myself in his house, so inspired was he to me an enigmatic character whose secrets were inviolable.