““He gives me a look, and I see that he’s in no mood for jokes. He’s right—this is no joke. But when you’re leaving for the Zone, it’s one of two things: you start bawling, or you crack jokes—and I’m sure as hell not crying. I take a look at Kirill. He’s holding up OK, only mouthing something silently, as if praying. “Praying?” I ask. “Pray, pray! The farther into the Zone, the closer to heaven.” “What?” he says. “Pray!” I yell. “Stalkers cut in line at the gates of heaven!””