Opalescence- the Secret of Pripyat Read online

  I had slept for about 11 hours. He gave me some vitamin pills and served me a wonderfully strong coffee.

  —Sorry, I don’t have anything else. You have to be satisfied with it. It’ll get you back on your feet. I don’t know how much radiation you exposed yourself to but it must have been pretty gigantic. What the hell did you go there for?

  —Actually, I have no idea. I felt extremely attracted to this forest. It was as if a singular force was whispering to me to go there. I lost all reasoning, all coherence of mind and I entered it. I went head first and ventured deeper and deeper. I didn’t understand what was going on. I don’t think I’m the first one to go there.

  —Oh, no, don’t worry about it! Others made that mistake before you. Some have even camped there already. Simply walking alone in winter and not telling anyone is foolish.

  —Andrei was aware of my intention, I replied.

  —That doesn’t mean he would have gone to get you, he replied. You know, I’ve heard some pretty sordid stories about this forest. Young people would have died there a few years ago. They would have practiced some kind of ritual for one of them’ birthday. We don’t know what really happened, but only one of them came back. He refused to speak and was placed in a psychiatric hospital. All this to tell you that visiting this place is not insignificant.

  I thought that the Zone was indeed a victim of its success. I was thinking about the two teenage skinheads. Like them, there must have been hundreds of people coming to ransack the place and have fun. Their behaviour was becoming more and more aggressive. Their immature escapades were dangerous. I asked Oleksandr about them. Faithful to himself, he shrugged his shoulders and sighed.

  —They are stupider than they are fearsome. I’ve already met a few of them. The most harmful are those who venture out alone. Almost all of them are armed. In fact, even some ordinary visitors are. Once I carried a group of tourists and things got out of hand. At the time, the circuits were much freer. I took them wherever I wanted. The government had no control over anything, I had carte blanche. So I had guided them to a fairly isolated and well-preserved area. They were quite excited, they felt like pioneers and thought of themselves as such. Some just had many beers and others were under the influence of marijuana. In the afternoon, two fools had provoked a Dutch tourist by pretending to push him into the Pripyat river. He didn’t like it at all. A brawl broke out and one of them drew a knife. The guy ended up in the ER with five stitches, but the case was hushed up.

  —Is that why you stopped the visits? Did you get fired?

  —No. I left of my own free will a few months later. I told you before, I’m no longer interested in the Zone as such.

  I tried to get it back on track.

  —When were the first visits made?

  —With guides?

  —Yes, I replied.

  —All this merry mess started in the late’90s. At the time, nothing was regulated and the Zone was infinitely more dangerous than it is today. Visitors and Stalkers behaved in any way they could: they drank river water and lit campfires. As I told you, some of them spent the night in gangs and took ill-considered risks. Thank God, the situation has changed a little. Subsequently, the government has more or less secured things by institutionalising visits with agencies approved by the state services. Things accelerated in the early 2000s and especially after the Orange Revolution. Now with the new sarcophagus, it’s much less dangerous, so it’s even easier. The popularity of the exclusion zone is exponential. Tourism is going to explode. In a few years, the Zone will compete with Disneyland, you’ll see.

  He seemed disillusioned and took up the serious look to which he had accustomed me:

  —You can’t stay here very long. Where do you want me to take you?

  —I’ll walk back, I’ll be fine. I will use public transport.

  Not surprisingly, Oleksandr nodded. Without saying a word, he put a few coins in my pocket and pushed me out. Not without some difficulty, I found the bus stop stuck between two blocks of buildings quite hideous.

  I arrived at my hotel after an itinerary that seemed endless to me. Some snot-nosed kids had passed by, stuck on their phones to trigger animal noises to distract the driver.

  Evolving in an urban environment was confusing after living in the Zone. The car horns, the music in the shops, the discussions of passers-by in the street… All these noises annoyed me. All these people in motion were polluting my field of vision. Bright fast-food chains were aggressive to the eye. Maidan square still had the scars of the 2014 uprisings. References to free Ukraine and the European Union were scattered throughout the city.

  In Kiev, the average income was 250 euros while corruption was at its highest. Once equivalent, Ukraine’s GDP was now five times lower than its Polish neighbour. I was thinking about that damn report I was supposed to do. What exactly did I promise my supervisor? I was no longer totally sure. I finally arrived at my destination. My hotel room seemed dull, soulless to me. The radiator was broken, the insulation: almost non-existent. I wanted to escape as soon as possible. One more night and I’ll leave this place.

  Before going to sleep, I took a Scottish shower. The icy water flowed over me like a saving lotion, invigorating everything in its path. I felt reborn, a new being would return to the Zone.

  I came out of the bathroom to grab the only bottle of alcohol in the minibar and kneel on my bed. The liquid was infective, but I remained impassive and determined to empty it to the last drop. I end up falling asleep, my mind spinning and my heart soothed.

  In the early morning, I left the hotel a little haggard and started wandering in the street. The alleys were deserted, Kiev was still drowsy. Only a few solitary taxis were walking along the capital’s main arteries. One of them stopped. I rushed inside and handed a piece of paper to the driver. GPS coordinates had been scribbled in a hurry. He frowned and then started the car. The taxi leapt forward in a cloud of black smoke.

  Second Part

  The blizzard was exhilarating. I could have sworn that two still eyes were staring at me through the branches. I felt watched. Something was listening to me, looking at me. The forest was dark and cold. The shadows were intimidating and threatening. The moon also seemed concerned. It emitted a weak glow, just enough to distinguish the silhouette from the trees. The thing was following me. It seemed to have an extraordinary agility as it was so discreet and undetectable. I felt its presence while ignoring the nature of its existence. I would have liked to annihilate it, break it by an outpouring of violence. However, I was getting used to it, as when we tolerate an enemy too weak to act. That’s how I tried to tame my fear. After all, maybe it was harmless. Probably my sharp mind was falling into a disproportionate psychosis. My vision was irregular. The colours seemed distorted to me. The blue tones were unreal. The contrasts, on the other hand, were very strong, almost aggressive. I was trying to stay calm. I was striving to breathe. But already, it was coming back, quicker and quicker. The blizzard was roaring.

  Chapter 6 — Intent

  8th days in the Zone.

  Amanda was a fearless and rather clever girl. She seemed to be one step ahead of the other Stalkers, an acuity of mind that I envied her. Her beautiful emerald eyes shone in the night. They betrayed a kindness, but also an unlimited curiosity, which immediately made people feel comfortable and softened their behaviour.

  I met Amanda on a full moon evening on the roof of the cultural centre. Andrei had introduced her to me with enthusiasm. The two seemed to be linked by a discreet complicity, a friendship of a quite unusual nature. Together, we chatted for long hours, lit by a small, rather modest candle that warmed our hands. Very quickly, the subject was discussed. Amanda was looking for the treasure. She had already roamed the Zone on multiple occasions, but had not made significant progress so far. I suggested that we would work together, coordinate our efforts and minds. She nodded with a smile.

  Andrei seemed disinterested in the loot, but listened carefully. H
e opined, interjected, issuing more or less relevant opinions. His words were few and far between, but welcomed. He acted like a wise man with advice for his disciples. Amanda wanted to explore further the woodlands bordering the exclusion zone, including those adjacent to Belarus. These areas were rather ignored by the maps and various existing plans due to the lack of infrastructure present. For my part, I was betting on the northeast part, where a few abandoned buildings were located.

  —And Duga, did you think about it?

  —The perimeter is quite well guarded, it’s difficult to get in without a group of tourists,” says Amanda. A guard is constantly positioned with a dog.

  She turned to me with an interrogating look on her face.

  —Maybe you could go there?

  —I’ll go make a passage, I’ve read a lot about it. Maybe I can find something new.

  —Perfect,” Andrei adds. I could brief you on Duga, I’ve done the ascent several times.

  —Is Oleksandr aware of all this?

  The other two exchanged a brief look, I could have sworn they looked embarrassed.

  Andrei dodged quickly:

  —I don’t know, but let’s not involve him in our research, he’ll slow us down. And it’s been so long since I’ve seen him… Well! It’s late now. I propose that you meet us here in two days to take stock.

  Andrei extinguished the candle with his hands. Despite the polar temperatures, we decided to sleep on the roof. The awakening would be splendid and the celestial vault would watch over us. The silence of the place was only braved by the rustling wind and Andrei’s sporadic coughing. Before I fell asleep, I took a few pictures of the sky. The stars shone in a sumptuous ballet, with a choreography that was as calculated as it was mysterious.

  That night was an opportunity to experience new, hyper-realistic and frightening dreams. I could see myself running through the Zone, chased by a horde of dogs, bloody lips and sharp fangs. Their radioactive bites infected my body with rabies and all kinds of unwanted diseases. I was faster than them. I rushed down the forest at a mad pace, slaloming between the shrubs, leaping above the brambles. The wind carried the dogs’ howling and suggested that I accelerate even more. I gained speed, my impulses on the ground became more vigorous, my balance more fragile. I stumbled. My body was propelled to the ground in a cloud of black dust. The sun irradiated me with its hot rays while scratches caused me burning pain. It only took about ten seconds for the dogs to catch up with me. They all barked louder than each other. I could distinguish the rage that emanated from their eyes, the murderous instinct that animated them. I raised one last glance to the sky, the prodigious zenith that was before me. The heat of the summer was suffocating. The solar star would contemplate my death, and perhaps, soften it? I didn’t have time to think any more. A fierce scream rang out and the fangs fell wildly.

  Despite my nightmare, I woke up peacefully. A new exciting day was coming up. Andrei had gone to take care of “some personal business” and I found myself alone in the forest with Amanda. This one was progressing like a cat. She tamed her environment with disconcerting ease while I struggled to avoid thorns and peat bogs. She was laughing at my wobbly gait. I felt almost ashamed. To reassure myself, I was looking for her weaknesses.

  She finally started the conversation.

  —I reread the press clippings, I listened to the broadcasts. During the Chernobyl disaster, the media and experts from Western Europe announced that the territory would be uninhabitable for 20,000 years. Today the Ukrainian government has committed itself to cleaning up the Zone by 2065. Some say it’s impossible. Who to believe? How to fight an invisible enemy and ensure its total eradication?

  —We will never succeed in doing so completely, I have no illusions about that!

  —It seems that new threats are emerging,” she continued. The Zone is now the scene of cyber attacks driven by who knows who. It’s just another invisible enemy, but this one is being deliberately directed. I hope they will identify those responsible…

  —Did you go through the legal procedure that followed the disaster?

  —Of course! Of course! Among others, the accused were Viktor Bryukhanov, head of the plant, Nikolai Fomin, the chief engineer, Anatoly Dyatlov, an assistant engineer and Yuri Laushkin, inspector of the Nuclear Supervisory Committee to the Soviet Union. After a year and a half of proceedings, Bryukhanov was found guilty of the accident. A 10-year prison sentence was requested against him and Dyatlov. Dyatlov and Fomin were also accused of conducting experiments on the reactor without the necessary permits. During the tests, the reactor power was reduced to 700 MW and the automatic shutdown systems were deactivated. No coordination with the reactor designer and responsible scientists had taken place. From the rest of the hearings, it emerged that the plant staff were insufficiently trained and did not have all the necessary knowledge to perform their role. Nikolai Fomin was less fortunate than the others. According to some witnesses, he tried to end his life a few days before the trial. If he was properly convicted like the others, he was diagnosed with serious disorders and doctors declared him unfit to serve his sentence. Instead, he was transferred to a psychiatric hospital where he was treated for some time before leaving. It seems that he finished his career at the Kalinin nuclear power plant…

  I remained silent in front of his monologue. She continued:

  —You know, I traveled a lot before I moved to Cologne. I have walked the deserts of Kazakstan and the steppes of Siberia. My family had a house on the banks of the Karelia River. It was in Russia that I met Andrei, he was camping on the heights, near my native village. We lost sight of each other for a few years, but our common interest in the Zone brought us together. Where are you staying in Kiev?

  —In a seedy hotel whose name I forgot.

  She smiled, my memory problems amused her.

  —How long have you had this?

  —This?

  —This amnesia.

  I was irritated when I heard about this deficiency.

  —I don’t have amnesia. The cold and lack of sleep affect my faculties. This environment is of such sensory intensity, how can we not be affected?

  —Um, I’m doing pretty well. Andrei suffers from some side effects, mainly nausea or vomiting. He spends too much time here. I advised him to go to a specialist, but he doesn’t see the point. He says he’s careful, he knows the Zone well now, but I guess the radiation still affected him. We had to warn you, no one leaves here unscathed. That’s why the Babushkas chose to stay. She paused for a moment before questioning me:

  —Still… I’m curious. What kinds of memories do you have from here? Do you have any images coming back to you?

  —It’s quite confusing. I remember the look of the trees that bordered the entrance to the city, but also the wallpaper in my room. On the other hand, I have difficulty visualising what our daily life was like and how it affected me. It is said that the environment of our childhood conditions our entire existence. I was shaped by this place, somehow I belong to it.

  —Will you bring your children here?

  —Probably not. I do not wish them to be haunted by any past, whatever it may be.

  She suddenly changed the subject.

  —So you’re a journalist?

  —Yes, I work in a small publication. We do reports, miscellaneous facts without much pretension, sometimes a little politics.

  —I see… Can I read your article when it’s finished?

  —Actually, I still don’t know what to write about. I was thinking of doing a subject on the tourist development of the Zone, but this type of reporting already exists by the dozens.

  —And why don’t you tell your own story? A former resident of Pripyat who became Stalker, it would promise exciting developments.

  —It would rather be a novel, but I have no literary ambition.

  She took a long breath.

  —Who first mentioned the treasure of Pripyat to you? What did they tell you?


  I had a moment’s pause. A slow frenzy was taking hold of me. It was more than just a common headache, more of dizziness, with a feeling of déjà vu that made me uncomfortable. Was I aware of anything? Of course I did, but I was unable to burst that memory. I only perceived shivers that suggested clues that I couldn’t decipher. It was an opaque, elusive feeling. Doubt was germinating in me, spreading its horrors throughout my whole body.

  ***

  2 days later.

  I was back with Amanda.

  —What’s up? Have you been able to move forward?

  —Not really. I went to see Duga. I climbed it to the top. It was beautiful, but I didn’t find anything.

  —Didn’t you meet anyone there?

  —No! Not a clue, nothing.

  —Are you sure about that?

  —Absolutely.

  She seemed skeptical.

  —So too bad for Duga. You should try to get close to the man who lives in the northern part of the Zone. We call him The Howler. I saw him once, it was a few months ago. They say he goes out a lot more in winter. Maybe you’ll have a chance with him.

  —Isn’t he dangerous?

  —No, not at all. He’s a good man, but he can be unpredictable. Don’t insist if he’s on a bad day.

  —How can I reach it?

  She laughed.

  —I think he’ll find you first. All you have to do is get lost across the river to the northeast. Go off the trails and follow the horizon. Maybe he’ll tell you something. He can be very talkative, depending on the situation. By the way, you didn’t tell me how you got into the Zone for the first time.

  —I’m here because of Oleksandr. I couldn’t have gotten in without him. Besides, you and Andrei seem to know him well, don’t you? What do you think of him?

  Amanda was silent. She seemed hesitant, almost intimidated. She was uncomfortable with Oleksandr’s evocation. She bit her lip.

  —I shouldn’t say this, but he scares me. I don’t trust him too much. He’s the kind of enigmatic person, you know. Andrei is the one who frequents him, but he fears it. He even forbade me to be alone with him. Not that he’s dangerous… It’s just… well… he’s like that. We owe him a lot.