As soon as I stepped onto https://bettingsitesnogamstop.co.uk/combat-sports-wrestling-betting/ the platform, I immediately had a strange feeling. It’s like I’ve already been here more than once. But my thoughts were interrupted by a soldier in Russian uniform who quietly approached me.
-“Your documents,” the serviceman said, hesitantly adjusting his cap.
-Yes no problem. -I said, taking my passport out of my jacket pocket.
-For what purpose did you come to our city??
-“I’m looking for a job,” I said without taking my eyes off this flyer, who didn’t seem to particularly want to bother with these formalities.
Having examined my “xiva”, the soldier gave me the pieces of paper and picturesquely trudged off to interrogate the rest of the new arrivals who were just getting out of the cars.
I went away from the crowd of people that was milling about the station, noting that the soldiers began to unload large boxes from the freight car. Most likely they contained weapons and supplies that would be distributed at the checkpoint, of which there are rumored to be a lot here.
The town of “Chernobyl 6” was more like an urban village since there were no large houses here and only in the center were houses of three and five floors visible. Narrow paths wound between the buildings, which, when viewed from above, probably looked like a cobweb. Most often the roads were driven by jeeps and military trucks, less often by ordinary passenger cars that were quite old and had seen a lot in their lifetime. There were almost no people among the houses and only a few old women occupied a couple of benches near the entrances of old houses.
I walked through three streets and saw a car repair shop, although it looked more like a parts dump. Nearby were the bodies of trucks and a couple of cars. Perhaps I can start looking for work from this place, I thought and headed towards the main entrance. The door was ajar and I walked in without hesitation.
Inside the workshop it was quite spacious, despite the fact that there were two semi-disassembled army jeeps and one civilian passenger car. Strange, but there wasn’t a soul around. After standing for a while, I called out to someone and a minute later a short man appeared from behind a tool cabinet, all covered in machine oil and paint. He had welding goggles on and in his teeth he held a cigarette, I think it was a Prima brand. I’ll just keep silent about how he reeked of alcohol. It was immediately clear that he was in no mood to talk and he only chewed his cigarette dissatisfiedly.
-What do you want, stalker? -he asked, completely unexpectedly and sharply.
-Stalker? I’m a simple visitor, I’m only in the city for an hour. -I was confused.
-Don’t tell me here, young man! We know why you are here.
-But I’m really just looking for a job. -I started to get a little angry at this guy.
-That’s it bro, I think I understand. Listen, I don’t have a job, but you can go to any of the bars in our city, and spend the night in a hotel in the center, they don’t charge much. Let’s just say that bars can always offer you a profitable deal, but you won’t be able to get a regular job here. Everywhere they will say that there are no places. Believe me.
-Thanks for the information. -I said and headed for the exit, dissatisfied with the result of the conversation.
-Good luck to you, stalker. -I heard it behind me, and I shuddered. I didn’t like this word.
I moved towards the city center, where the hotel was supposed to be located. I decided that it wouldn’t hurt to get some sleep, and in the evening I could go to the bar. Maybe you’ll actually find something interesting there. Walking across the street, I noticed a military jeep that was slowly driving along the wall of a long house and was looking all over for someone, or was simply patrolling the area. Although there was a strange feature, namely that the jeep was from NATO troops and not from the Russian Federation or Ukraine, of which there were plenty here. Most likely, soldiers from the United States were sitting in it, as indicated by their camouflage. I was a little alarmed by the fact that in the area the concentration of military personnel from different countries was simply off the charts. Of course, I knew that they were guarding some kind of facility in the area of ​​the Chernobyl nuclear power plant, but I didn’t imagine its significance that way. Deciding not to tempt fate, I made a small detour so as not to run into soldiers and soon went to the hotel.
At first glance, the hotel building was abandoned. Almost all the paint had faded, and there were cracks on the walls and many holes where the plaster had fallen off. There was no name like that and above the entrance there was the inscription “G… ST… NITSA”. Passing under the rickety porch, I entered the hotel lobby. On the floor was a nailed, tattered carpet dating back to the times of the USSR, a faded red hue with trampled holes and frayed edges. Under the high ceiling hung a huge chandelier of lamps with twenty of them, about five of which shone at most. On the walls hung paintings depicting some landscapes, enclosed in faded frames. In the corner there was a counter, behind which sat a thin man of about forty-five with short hair and glasses. He was holding a newspaper in his hands, which he was reading with enthusiasm, and did not seem to notice my appearance at all.
I walked up to the counter and stood in front of the man. He didn’t even look up at me, he just scratched his nose and turned the page of the newspaper.
-Do you have any available rooms? – I asked, leaning slightly over the edge of the counter. The concierge looked at me and leaned over a little, took out a key from somewhere and handed it to me, pointing his finger at the stairs that were at the other end of the room. Without saying a word, I moved in the indicated direction.
-Dumb or what?? – I said to myself almost inaudibly.
-Payment in the morning! – I heard behind me and shuddered in surprise. No, not dumb.
The room number “24” was stamped on the key. Having wandered through the corridors, the room was found on the third floor. DURING the entire time I walked around the building, I did not come across a single guest, which, however, did not surprise me much. Turning the key in the lock, the door opened with a drawn-out creak. Apparently they haven’t looked after the building for a very long time and haven’t even tried to make it even a little bit more pleasant.
There was nothing at all in the room except a table, a stool and a bed with different legs and a high back. I threw my backpack on the table and looked out the window. The square in front of the hotel was still empty. Only in the distance did a helicopter fly by, from which the sound of propellers was barely audible. Having checked the presence of water in the taps, I revived myself with a barely warm shower and then collapsed heavily on the bed. It was necessary to think over a plan for further action, since there was not a lot of money in our pockets, and we had to somehow get hold of the last. And to make sure that I didn’t come all this way from Russia to Ukraine in vain. I closed my eyes and thought deeply.
A cool wind blew in my face, and under my feet withered leaves flew from side to side, rustling quietly touching the asphalt road along which I walked between high earthen mounds from which pipes, ceilings, rusty car frames and other debris stuck out. In short, there was a dump here. After walking another three hundred meters, I reached a bus stop and looked back and scratched the back of my head in surprise. The road that led to the stop was so narrow that it could only accommodate a small car. Under the roof of the stop there was a barrel of coals from a fire, which apparently was lit often, and cans of canned food and empty packs of cigarettes were lying around.
There was a noise behind the stop and then something rolled down the side of the garbage hill. I looked around the corner and saw a huge boar, which was enthusiastically digging the loose earth with its powerful paws. The boar was clearly two times larger than its relatives, and its skin was very tough in appearance and in places with some stains or abrasions, it was impossible to make out. The miracle boar galloped fervently along the heel of the hill and cheerfully waved its long ears, while grunting and sniffling. I looked at him with interest, trying to understand where he came from, while trying not to fall into his field of vision, otherwise who knows how he would react. But then the unexpected happened.
A raven sat on the roof of the bus stop, spreading its tail and stretching out its black neck. I looked at him with an almost pleading look, but this bastard seemed to understand me and slammed his eyes and let out “KARRRR.”. ». I mentally swore and turned sharply to the boar, who, with his ears pricked up and his huge fangs pointed at me, was breaking towards the stop, scattering garbage in different directions. I was already ready to say goodbye to my life, since there was simply nowhere to escape from this carcass, and I would not crawl onto the roof of the building. But suddenly a second surprise occurred.
The cleaver, having almost reached the rear wall of the stop, suddenly braked and his massive body began to bend to the side, as if he had pulled his shaggy side. The reason for this was a funnel that suddenly appeared, which sucked in dust and small debris, from which the outline of an air vortex appeared. The boar squealed heart-rendingly and tried to escape, but he failed, and the incredible phenomenon pulled the animal towards itself with renewed vigor. The boar flew into the funnel and spun in it, gradually approaching its center in which a dim light was barely visible. And then the boar snored and something slammed in the center of the funnel, tearing the animal’s carcass into a pile of scraps. I barely managed to hide up to the roof when the contents of the pig began to rain from the sky.
When I looked around the corner, a gloomy picture opened up to my eyes. The entire stop was covered in what was left of the wild boar. I started to feel sick and I quickly turned away, noticing that the raven was sitting on the nearest pole. Cawing joyfully, he flew off the pole and sat down on a piece of a boar’s head and began pecking it contentedly.
-Feathered bastard – I thought. Watching this whole picture, I didn’t pay attention to the fact that a cool wind was blowing from behind, and feeling this, from somewhere deep in my consciousness, fear burst out, so much so that I almost jumped while I was turning around. But I still had to jump. He stood behind me..
Loud footsteps outside the door pulled me out of my sleep. A group of people passed by, noisily talking about some of their business. Someone laughed, and someone just gave a limp comment on the joke. The steps moved away, and I rubbed my eyes and looked out the window. It was getting dark and the bright orange light of the sunset was pouring into the room. It was time to get ready to go to the bar, where those people who passed through the door probably headed.
After taking a cool shower and getting dressed, I took my backpack and slowly walked towards the exit of the hotel. Along the way, I found that man behind the counter who was now looking with interest at the small TV screen. Like last time, he didn’t notice me and I had to slam my fist on his table to get him distracted.
How do I get to the nearest bar?? – I asked the manager. He looked at me in bewilderment, apparently trying to remember where I came from.
-Straight across the square in front of the hotel and at the end immediately turn right along the adjacent street all the way. There will be a building surrounded by a fence, and there will be a bar “Shti” in it. – said the man and again buried his face in the TV.
Without saying anything, I headed towards the exit and, pushing the door with my foot, went out into the street. A fresh breeze blew in my face, but it was no longer so quiet around. There were three jeeps parked in front of the entrance. Not military, but equipped as if on a long journey. The roof racks were filled with bags and sacks, and the rear doors had racks bolted to them, to which mountain bikes were attached. The square itself was much livelier. Groups of people were walking around, and a young contingent was sitting on benches. True, it was clear that the young animals were not local and apparently arrived on the evening train. Behind them were backpacks and rolled up sleeping bags. They spoke quietly to each other and looked warily at those passing by, clearly feeling out of place.
Taking a deep breath, I headed across the square..