"Praying?” I asked. “Pray on, pray. The further into the Zone the nearer to Heaven."

"What?"

"Pray!” I shouted. “Stalkers go to the head of the line into Heaven."

He broke out in a smile and patted me on the back, as if to say don't be afraid, nothing will happen as long as you're with me, and if it does, well, we only die once. He sure is a funny guy, honest to God.

We turned in our passes to the last sergeant, only this time, for a change of pace, it was a lieutenant. I know him, his father sells grave borders in Rexopolis. The flying boot was waiting for us, brought by the fellows from PPS and left at the passageway. Everyone else was waiting, too. The emergency first-aid team, and firemen, and our valiant guards, our fearless rescuers—a bunch of overfed bums with a helicopter. I wish I had never set eyes on them!

We got up into the boot, and Kirill took the controls and said: “OK, Red, lead on."

Coolly, I lowered the zipper on my chest, pulled out a flask, took a good long tug, and replaced the flask. I can't do it without that. I've been in the Zone many times, but without it—no, I just can't. They were both looking at me and waiting.

"So,” I said. “I'm not offering any to you, because this is the first time we're going in together, and I don't know how the stuff affects you. This is the way we'll do things. Anything that I say you do immediately and without question. If someone starts fumbling or asking questions I'll hit whatever I reach first. I'll apologize now. For example, Mr. Tender, if I order you to start walking on your hands you will immediately hoist your fat ass into the air and do what I tell you. And if you don't, maybe you'll never see your sick daughter again. Got it? But I'll make sure that you do get to see her."

"Just don't forget to give me the order,” Tender wheezed. He was all red and sweating and chomping his lips. “I'll walk on my teeth, not just on my hands, if I have to. I'm not a greenhorn."