SIX

—

We reach the end of the forest after another mile, our path opening out in a huge field of tall grass. Mikey lets me know we’ll be at the river within the hour, where we’ll take our first stop and have a late dinner. At the mention of food my stomach aches with hunger. I was running on snacks and a hangover, and was suddenly desperate for a meal from one of the freeze dried packets they bought me, despite being skeptical about their edibility only a few hours previous. 

Without the trees dappling the sun, it is significantly warmer, and the last mile to the river has me feeling sufficiently unfresh. I am really regretting not taking a shower before-hand. So when the sound of trickling water became audible behind the rustle of the wind and our thighs through the tall grass, I make the first noise I have in hours. 

“Thank God.”

“Tired?” Lex inquires, like he’s been waiting for the opportunity.

“Starving,” I correct, looking around, past him, seeking the water I couldn’t see yet but could definitely hear.

He hums humorously under his mask. “Get used to it. You’ll be tired and starving for a while.” 

He doesn’t know me, though. “You really think you can still scare me out of this, huh? After I just walked six kilometers out to the middle of nowhere with you?” 

He only shrugs in response, and I feel like I’m fuming from the ears. 

Before I snap, Mikey does me the favor of interrupting. “Ready for a swim, boys?” He looks back at us, and then edits himself when he remembers I’m there too. “and girls.”

I’ve already stopped though, taken by surprise with his suggestion. “Swim?”

“This friend of yours really didn’t fill you in?” Lex sheds his bag as he passes me, dropping it in the pile the other boys had already made, rolling his shoulders to work the tension out of his muscles. 

I follow his lead, relieved to be free of the rucksack, but need to question further that lack of explanation. “Isn’t the water contaminated?” 

The tour had very specific rules about being in the Exclusion Zone. We couldn’t eat or drink, or even smoke. We couldn’t sit on the ground, we couldn’t touch anything. Surely swimming on a river that ran through the very banks of Chernobyl was breaking every one of those rules already. 

“Better build your tolerance because you’re going to be drinking it later,” Lex responses tauntingly while removing his gloves and shoes. I can see that he’s very pleased with himself, likely due to my horrified expression.

“Mikey,” I call, to get clarification since Lex was clearly messing with me, and I see that Mikey is already de-clothed, down to a vibrant pair of patterned boxer-briefs. 

He grins that Cheshire cat grin and teases. “Don’t stare, I know I’m a work of art but have some respect.” But, knowing that’s not what I’m gawking about, he clarifies, “it’s the only way across.”

The river itself is maybe fifteen feet from one side to the other, and runs as far as I can see from North to South. I start to understand the inevitability. “But drinking it?”

“We only have four liters of water each. That’s for getting there. What did you think the purifying tablets were for, Vulpiță?” Again, with this pet name Lex has decided to give me. Whatever it means, I can tell it’s in jest, so I glare. He forces me to break it though, when he moves to shed his shirt and I catch a flash of the taunt muscles stretched across his ribs before I avert my gaze. 

Nico, who is now also down to his underwear like Mikey, attempts to reassure me by offering an alternative perspective. “No showers in Chernobyl.” 

I let the dread settle in, and remember how I was just regretting not having the sense to shower beforehand. It would be the last opportunity I’d have to feel fresh, and if they were still alive after making this trip countless times, certainly I would be fine as well. 

So I shut up and follow their lead, shedding my layers, down to my bralette and underwear like they had, wrapping my clothes around my camera and stowing it all in my bag for the trek across. 

Lex and Nico cross the river twice, first to take their own bags, and then mine and Mikey’s. At first, I want to argue that I can take my own bag, but when I see that the water goes up to each of their chests, forcing them to carry the bags above their heads to keep them dry, I understand the routine. 

Meanwhile, Mikey has hopped into the river in a different spot, where the water is deeper, I imagine. He emerges with a satisfied sigh, flipping his toxic green fringe out of his face. I follow his lead, and after a moment to psyche myself up, jump from the bank as well, the water engulfing me in cool freshness. Immediate relief. 

When I surface, Mikey is cackling his hyena laugh, and swims after me to wade water nearby. “It’s official now. You're christened. A real Stalker.” He makes a cross between his shoulders, head and heart, then lowers into the water again, but only enough to fill his mouth and spit it in my direction.

I splash back, and he retreats, just in time to give space for Nico and Lex to join us from the other side of the river. Nico jumps also, a proper cannonball, and Mikey cackles again, the two of them immediately wrestling when they get their hands on each other. 

Lex must have waded into the river, because his stupid mask and fringe is still bone dry. I can’t help myself, and swim a little closer to comment. “You have to take that mask off eventually.”

“You’ll have to kill me, first.” His words are taunting, but his tone is surprisingly playful, like he was finally coming around to participating in banter instead of just torturing me. Maybe the water has rejuvenated his sense of humor as it has my own spirits.

So, I play back. “I could arrange that. We have four nights together…” In the shallower water where he is, I can just barely graze the bottom of the river with my feet. Soft, squishy mud, untouched for years. I dig my toes in and wiggle, easing their ache; my boots had no time to be properly broken in.

I don’t really realize that Lex had gravitated in my direction as well, until we’re closer than I anticipated. He’s crouching in the water then, to be on the same level of submerged, and uses his better traction to get a fraction closer when he responds. “I’d like to see you try.”

Bold, to taunt a hunter. I retreat a step and sink my face down into the water, so I’m staring up through my lashes. I see his eyes soften, for just a fraction of a second, before catching my intention and instantly darkening. “Don’t.”

But Mikey was a bad influence, and I am already spitting the water I’d collected in my mouth into his face, a direct hit to that stupid mask. He manages to block most of it with a hand, but I still dampen the fabric, and he retaliates with a splash. When I move to splash back, he grabs my wrists and stands, shoulders emerging from the water, intentionally intimidating me with his height. I coward back down into the water up to my eyeline, mostly so he doesn’t see my grin or the flush on my cheeks.

“Lex! Stop flirting with the clientele!” Mikey shouts from the deeper spot of the river, cackling when his words make Lex drop my wrists.

To ease the awkwardness that lingered, I rise again from the water and shout out a counter. “I wouldn’t call death threats flirting.”

“I would,” Mikey responds, drowning his laughter as he dives into the water again.

We swim for a while longer, until the sun starts turning gold and the fields around us drift and sway like a cornsilk ocean. The air grows warm and damp, wet clay and stone adding a sharp, hardy bite to it when I inhale deep. Floating on my back, all I could see is sky, milky blue and honeysuckle.

We have no towels, so when we finally force ourselves out of the water after all fingers and toes were sufficiently wrinkled, we have to let our waterlogged bodies dry out. Being routine for the boys, there’s no bashfulness as they spread out their bed mats and lounge in the evening sun, but I can’t help but cover myself with my rain jacket to feel a bit less exposed. Nevertheless, when I settle down on my own mat, the exhaustion from all the walking and swimming takes over me quickly, and I drift off into a peaceful snooze, lulled by a soundtrack of running water and Nico’s mumbling snores.