The Forest is full of mysteries.

  This saying had become a password among the young therizers. It explained everything. It also helped to keep one alert, and not be surprised when meeting an unexpected. Allow yourself to be surprised, not be ready—and in no time you’ll be dead.

  It was dark and stifling, the dim sunlight barely breaking through the branches high above and falling in slanting columns onto piles of leaves and moss-covered snags. Adrian walked slowly, cautiously, glancing around and listening to the silence. Today, he was lucky. He hadn’t run into anyone as he slipped through a secret gap in the fence, sneaked out unnoticed to the other side, slid down into a gloomy, dark ravine, and at once found himself in another world. In the Forest.

  Here, there was always silence. The trees, standing far apart from each other, stretched deeper and deeper, merging into a single brown mass. There was no reason for the wind to appear, yet sometimes it would suddenly rise and sweep through with doubled strength.

  He walked, flinching at every creak of needles beneath his boots. The path was familiar. On a thorny bush, he noticed dark stains. It was his own blood, spilled during the night when he fled from the dogs. He bent down and saw a shred of bandage. It was his bandage.

  Adrian parted the bushes. He descended along a hidden trail to the bottom of the gully, passed through it by a thick stand of spruce. Here it was safe. He boldly went past another slope, holding on to the trunks of crooked trees. He listened, sniffed the still air. There was no smell of sweat or fur. The dogs had passed long ago, if they’d been here at all.

  The ground was damp, in places downright squelching, and his boots were covered in mud. Somewhere off to the side, behind a row of thick, gnarled oaks, a patch of fog drifted by. Adrian did not let himself be surprised.

  He walked on, tracing back his own erratic night tracks, along with those belonging to the dogs. It felt a bit strange to walk here in the bright daylight. The dwellers of the shelter went on raids into the Forest only before daybreak. It wasn’t bravado, nor a desire to show off, to prove their courage or insolence—it was a harsh necessity. At night, there was less risk of being spotted by the guards and a greater chance of finding truly rare and valuable artifacts. So the first rule of a therizer—as the old-timers taught—was not to fear the dark, not to fear death, not to fear the unknown.

  Somehow, Adrian realized, his fear now was a lot greater than the night before.

  The trail looked deceivingly peaceful and quiet. He did not trust that look in the slightest. Noticing familiar signs, he kept scanning the air and tossing nuts. He did not know how much time had passed until he found himself standing again at the entrance of the familiar clearing, where the wet, muddy grass still carried the traces of the morning’s fight. His old nuts still marked the safe path, glittering faintly with dew. Adrian froze, looking forward at the pines, where, among the tangle of roots, in the morning, he found the artifact.

  The backpack was gone.

  Adrian swore under his breath, then immediately reminded himself not to be puzzled. But his hand instinctively dived down his inner pocket, and before he came to, his fingers clenched on the handle of the pistol. Its rough surface, warm from the proximity of his body, gave him confidence. He pulled the weapon out, weighed it in his palm, then carefully pulled the slide.

  The dogs would not have any interest in the backpack. It could have only been taken by a human.

  Adrian carefully walked down the trail, holding the pistol in front of him. Absolute stillness surrounded him, the only sounds he could hear were his boots squishing in the grass and his heart pounding in his chest. He reached the place of the morning’s fight, noticed the bloody remnants of the dog killed in the anomaly, and winced in disgust. Then he studied the soil close to the pines, searching for fresh tracks other than his own. Aha, here we go. Big, heavy boots with an intricate protector. Not the military ones. Scientists?

  He walked a little farther, stepping carefully along the tracks. Pushing through the bushes, he emerged at the edge of a slope that dropped steeply to a small glade, the one the shelter folk called the Ghost Trail—because of the countless invisible anomalies scattered across it. There he froze, dumbstruck.

  Down below, bending every moment as if searching for something in the grass, was a girl. In trousers and a light white shirt. With long, loose hair.

  If Adrian had seen a ghost, he would have been less frightened. He crouched and rubbed his eyes twice. Just in case, he pinched himself hard, then looked again. The girl didn’t see him. She was—unbelievable!—picking flowers.

  Adrian forgot his vow not to be surprised. He realized he had gone mad. The Forest played a cruel trick on him.

  For several seconds, he stood at the top of the slope, at the very entrance to the Trail, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The girl didn’t notice him; turned with her back to him, she was closely examining something in the grass. She was clearly keeping her distance from anomalies: it was obvious she remembered where she was and what might be expected from this place. But something else worried Adrian: she might not know that nearby prowled mutants, the same ones that had attacked him last night…

  And then he saw the dog. Alone, shaggy, baring its toothy maw, creeping leisurely toward the unsuspecting girl.

  He slowly straightened up. Between him and the girl lay the Ghost Trail. Shooting the pistol was useless: the anomalies would divert the bullet from its intended trajectory. Yet there was no time to think. The dog was closing in, and Adrian saw that it was preparing for a leap.

  “Watch out!” he shouted, hoping the girl was just a mirage. But she turned. Gave a thin cry, and at that moment the dog growled and leapt forward.

  Adrian did not realize what he was doing when he bolted out of the bushes and down the slope. He knew the Trail like the palm of his hand, almost did not need nuts to find a safe passage. Yet it was the first time he had to dart through the field of anomalies headlong, with his arm wounded. So he was not surprised when fallen leaves on his side flew up into the air, twisting along an invisible spiral. Something burned his arm, and he felt the force pulling him into the anomaly. The fear burst in him, rolling down his spine, trembling between his shoulder blades. Instinctively, he recoiled in the opposite direction and screamed, jumped away from the fountain of fire that shot into the air from the ‘frying pan’, then nearly stepped into the ‘funnel’. Then he felt the fiery column scorch him once more, but he barely noticed how he dashed through the flames, how he nearly landed on the ‘trampoline’. His arm jerked so hard that pain ripped through his entire body, and for a moment it seemed to Adrian that he would get drawn into the anomaly entirely.

  But he passed—and stumbled in the clearing, panting, raising up his hand with the pistol.

  Meanwhile, the girl, though screaming like she was already being torn apart by claws, did not get a single scratch. She stood straight, holding the sawn-off shotgun, its barrel smoking. The mutant dog, its brains blown out, was lying in the grass a few meters away, bleeding. The girl broke the shotgun open to reload, her scared gaze fixed on Adrian. She did not see the two other creatures approaching her from behind.

  Adrian dashed toward her as fast as he could and knocked the girl aside, standing in her place. The dogs were right in front of him, their teeth bared, their red, hateful eyes boring into him. Adrian gripped the handle as tight as he could and fired point-blank. The recoil shuddered in his bones; he almost went deaf from the rumble, but the first dog screeched, stumbled sharply, as if having hit an invisible wall, and collapsed in front of him.

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  The second one slowed down, snarling with fear, and Adrian fired again. This time, he missed; the bullet barely scratched through the fur, leaving a bloody trace. The dog let out a squeal and leapt at him. He saw the glitter of the red eyes, smelled the stench of wet fur, and the moment before sharp claws hit his chest, he pulled the trigger again. The giant monster smashed into him, knocking him down. He hit the ground, lost his breath from pain, felt the pistol barrel sticking into the soft flesh, and fired a few more times before he realized that the dog was not trying to bite him or slash with its claws.

  It was already dead.

  Adrian went limp, pressed by the heavy, motionless carcass. Warm blood streamed down his arms—the dog’s blood. He groaned and, with effort, hurled the corpse aside, crawling from beneath. Slowly rose to all fours, then sat down, shaking off his hands in disdain. Glanced at the girl. She leapt up sharply and squealed, looking back at him.

  The next moment, next to her glance, there was the glance of the shotgun’s muzzle, pointed right at him.

  “Easy,” Adrian said, panting, trying to calm down his breathing and speak slowly and calmly. “Put that thing down, will you? Or at least take your finger away from the trigger.”

  “You’re not a mutant,” she noted, but did not lower her hand, still shivering ever so slightly and keeping the muzzle pointed at him. “You speak. And you know this is a weapon.”

  “Do I look like a mutant? I just saved your life. Is this your gratitude?”

  “Put the pistol down. Toss it aside.”

  He shrugged and slowly obeyed.

  “Satisfied? Now, can you lower the gun, please?”

  “Who are you? Are you a soldier?”

  “No. I live in the orphanage.” He did not dare to call himself a therizer.

  “The orphanage? These barracks next to the river?”

  “What the hell are you doing here, on this trail?” he asked, ignoring her comment. “There’re Ghosts, you know?”

  “You mean, anomalies? I know very well where they are. And I only collect herbs in safe places.”

  “Safe places? In the Forest? Are you nuts? Do you even know how deep we are?” Adrian felt the girl was crazy, but he felt even crazier himself for having to explain such obvious things. “Do you even value your life? What if I would not happen to be around? The dogs would have eaten you, and that’s it. Actually, how come you’re here without a protective suit?”

  “I don’t need a suit. There is no radiation around here. And the dogs… I did not know they come here. There used to be no mutants.”

  “Neither did I,” Adrian muttered, slowly raising to his feet. “But now they do. This night I’d met them for the first time…”

  “You walk into the Forest at night?” she interrupted. “And you’re talking about danger?”

  “I know what I’m doing.” Adrian felt his cheeks burning. The girl stared at him smiling now, fear in her eyes replaced by genuine curiosity. “I know the trails. I know how to mark a safe path.”

  “So do I.”

  She was right, of course. There was a change in the Forest, the same one Burakovsky talked about. And it caught them both off guard.

  A new thought popped up in his mind. Adrian suddenly remembered why he ended up here in the first place. He glanced at the girl’s boots. No, definitely not the right size or type.

  “Listen,” he said, not inclined to interrogate her anymore. “Have you seen the backpack? Do you know who took it? A grey one, it was lying over there, at the top…”

  “I don’t know where it was lying. Oh! You’re bleeding, you know?”

  “I don’t give a damn.” Adrian clenched his teeth, glanced at his torn and blood-soaked sleeve, where his fast self-made bandage broke during the fight, revealing the wound. “I’m asking you about the backpack. So, you’ve seen it?”

  “What was there? Stones?” She approached him slowly, shoved the shotgun into the holster at her side, took a small leather pouch off her belt, and pulled a fresh gauze and some ointment out.

  “Stones! Don’t do that, my arm is okay… There were artifacts, you silly. And I need them, right now. So if you have the backpack, or know who has it, it’s about the time you give it back to me.”

  “First, I change your bandage. And by the way, thank you for saving me. It was really impressive how you managed to get down here so fast. It was dangerous too, don’t do that anymore. One of the anomalies had clearly scratched you… And this wound, oh gosh. It looks bad, you know?”

  “You’re kind of slow, I swear,” Adrian said, losing his patience. “Was I not clear enough? I need that damn backpack. I have time till sunset, otherwise they will kill my friend. Honestly, I already regret not letting those dogs eat you.”

  “Well, you can’t change the past, right?” She stepped back. His arm felt now immersed in coolness, and the pain receded. Adrian secretly breathed with relief.

  “If you would not save me, no one would tell you about your backpack. Now you listen. I live here, in the Forest…”

  “Impossible,” he interrupted.

  “Why?”

  “No one lives in the Forest. There are anomalies, right? And radiation…”

  “I’ve already told you, there is no radiation.” She fetched a device from her pouch, and Adrian recognized the Geiger counter. The military folk used them, but they were too expensive for orphans to afford. The girl showed him the screen. The number did not tell him anything, but the LED glowed green.

  “Anyway, it does not matter. We have a sheltered place here, even if the radiation was high. It’s a bunker. It’s been half a year since we’re here.”

  Ok, things were clearing up a little bit. Living in a bunker, walking around with expensive devices, but cheap weapons, and zero protection… Specs, Adrian thought with disdain, and immediately frowned. Specs living in the Forest? Usually, they stayed as far away as they could. If a scientist ventured into the Forest, there would be a whole squad of armed guards protecting them.

  And they’re here for half a year, and no one ever found them or heard of them?

  “I come here to gather herbs,” the girl continued. “And it was my uncle who found the backpack. This morning. He came back home, jumping with joy, sorted them stones on his workbench, studied them with the microscope. He said, someone did a job for him, which would take him another half a year…”

  “Oh, really?” Adrian put his hands on his hips. “Let’s go then.”

  “Where to?”

  “To your bunker. Sorry, but the limit of my selflessness is over for today. I’m not gonna make gifts for anyone. Especially, I’m not gifting the artifacts that I’d been collecting this whole damn night. They are not even for sale. I need them to save a person!”

  “Don’t scream like that,” she warned and slowly walked away down the trail, toward the thicket. “There might be more dogs around.”

  Adrian grimaced with anger, bent sharply, snatched his pistol from the ground, and followed her. He felt his hands shaking from rage. Catching up with her, he pulled out his tobacco pouch, rolled himself a cigarette, almost spilling the precious leaf, and snapped his lighter. Took a deep drag, slowly calming down. The girl cringed and waved the smoke away. For a while, she remained silent, then noted offhandedly, “Smoking kills…”

  “You’re killing me faster,” he admitted candidly.

  “...and attracts dogs. So you'd better be careful with it, especially now. By the way, my uncle has some good tobacco. He can share with you, maybe. As a reward for the stones.”

  “I don’t give a damn about his tobacco. I need those artifacts.”

  “Maybe devices? You want this one?” She waved her hand with the Geiger counter. “We also have microscopes, oscilloscopes, computers… Oh, maybe you want meds? We have meds too.”

  “I can’t sell that stuff,” Adrian responded grimly. Meds and the Geiger counter sounded tempting, though. “I need arts. That’s what I promised them.”

  “We’ll figure something out. You’re right, it was silly,” she added to his surprise. “My uncle did not know you survived. He said, the poor guy must have been devoured, either by mutants or the anomalies.”

  “I’ve told you, I know my way around here,” he said arrogantly. “And your uncle should keep in mind that I also saved you. The life of one’s niece is more important than stones, as you call them, isn’t it?”

  “We have arrived,” she said instead of answering, and Adrian suddenly realized that he had never visited this part of the Forest before. Somehow, without tossing a single nut, she had guided him through the densest part of the Ghost trail, and deeper still. Now they stood at the thicket’s edge, and the path wound down the hill toward a small clearing, hidden by thick bushes from all sides.

  There, right in the center, squinting his eyes, he suddenly saw a construction, looking like a giant cylinder, half-buried into the earth. It was painted in camouflage and blended into the background so well that Adrian would not notice it if he accidentally passed by. It had a metal door and a small antenna on the roof.