Whatever stalker does dream about the house under the pouring rains of Zone? Whoever of them would like to get out from eternal dirt and death there, where a sun lights instead of eternal clouds and мороси, a surf makes noise, where it is finally possible to rest and forget about Zone? Sometimes a dream comes true. But why then at night do mad adrenalin dreams come again? And a look stops beating already, and no longer to find rest under warm south sky, and calls, calls something us back, in a dust and darkness, in dim light, where the crooked shadows flash in the neglected houses.That getting on, if for us on two one syndrome, one fate and one road, probationer? Only to wait, and Zone, believe, will find a method to call back.