"Thin World". Chapter 8
The continuation of a fantastic story. For those who have forgotten (or did not know) what was there before - links to the previous parts below.
Anatoly Sazanov illustration
Uuum.
A low rumble seeped through the bark of an old oak tree, causing the dull leaves that remained on the branches to tremble anxiously.
')
Uuum.
Sasha removed the mask from his face and tapped his knuckles on the trunk. The tree responded with a steel pipe.
- What the hell, Shurik, what do you think? - Yan Nikolayevich asked. Sasha shrugged and walked around the tree in a circle, without taking his hands off the dry bark.
“I see this for the first time,” he answered at last, “I met animals, birds with micromachines.” Trees too. But here is not quite a tree ... What did Marina tell?
“She told that there was a person inside,” answered Jan Nikolaevich, and then he added with a sly one, “And don't you tell me anything about you?”
Sasha sighed and looked at his uniform. She was frankly great to him.
- Not.
“And he and his sister were looking for you,” the old man shook his head. “Are you ashamed?”
“There is a little,” Sasha admitted, “He promised to meet, but not met.” Even in the camp of the Wild Boar now ... I, when I started treating his fighters, could not even imagine that everything would go so far.
- So do not treat.
“I can't,” Sasha slowly shook his head. “Do you know why?” Not because I am kind, or owe them something. Just then someone will need to plow the land. When all these generals and boars are over, when the war is over, there will be a lot of land and few hands.
Yan Nikolaevich nodded understandingly.
- It will be necessary to plow. In the spring. To live only.
“To live to spring,” came the echoing voice of wood, “it is not possible.”
The bark has spread like sashes, and the bowels of the oak have spat out a young man. It was as if he was tied with threads, thin as a cobweb. The threads were silver in the light, penetrated under the clothes and, who knows, maybe even under the skin. Pasha looked up at the men and said it was not quite clear, as if recalling the words through force.
“In winter, I need to take care of him.” A very little power. You can not imagine how he ... scary.
Sasha squatted down and took his hand. Pasha's brush was thin, almost weightless, she easily gave in to him.
- What happened to you, man?
“We need to catch it before winter,” continued Pasha.
- What have time? - Sasha did not understand.
- If I knew myself, - Pasha looked at him, - I do not understand yet. I have a very bad tree, ”he laughed,“ and from a tree is a useless musician. ”
* * *
Marina really wanted to go back to school.
But for two days she had to lie in bed, in a fever of delirium. Either the wounds were inflamed, or the nerves were exhausted. The temperature relentlessly kept, slowly melting brain painted pictures one worse than the other. Friendly at first Novozhilovo scarecrow.
“If this happens again, who will protect them?”
Caring for her Nastya. Even when Marina was asleep, she simply sat beside her and looked out the window as Andryusha played with other children. He was surrounded by a pale crimson glow.
Partly, therefore, nothing was known about the changes in the school of Marina. And partly because Dan hasn't talked about them much yet. Therefore, when Marina entered the class on the third day, a little sluggish, but already with a clear head and a prepared smile, she did not expect to see Diana at the teacher's desk.
In the class there were only two - Gena Blond and Olya Smeshlivaya. Initially, Marina did not begin to memorize the children’s names, but immediately rewarded herself with nicknames. The children raised their heads from notebooks and stood diligently.
Diana looked away from the contemplation of the window, looked bored at Marina and casually waved it away.
- Hello, did not go there. Further along the corridor, there uglyadnye sit.
Marina was all boiling inside.
- Who? She threatened, calmly. Diana shrugged and pointedly turned away.
- Gena, Olya, - Marina commanded as calmly as possible, - Take notebooks and come with me.
I didn't have to ask for it twice - they immediately rushed to pack the briefcases.
- Stop, where? - Diana shouted at them, and the children froze helplessly, - Dear, the children now study separately. Normal children here with me, the rest - there further. And then you never know ...
- Mmm, - Marina mumbled, overriding her anger, - did Denis think up?
- Denis ordered, - said Diana, - Orders are not discussed. Do not interfere with the lesson to lead.
Instead of answering, Marina approached the first desk, next to which the confused guys stood, and gently, but persistently, took their hands.
- Hey, what are you doing! - Diana jumped up from the chair. Marina mentally sent her to the devil and went to the exit.
“Hold me guys,” she whispered to them, “or you'll fall.” Something I have not recovered.
And they clung tightly to her - on the right, Olya, on the left, Gena - and so they went out into the corridor. Diana came to her senses and stumbled behind them, muttering something. But until she reached the next room, Marina was already inside and put the children on desks.
“I’ll report to Dan now, he will arrange it for you,” promised Diana vindictively. Marina turned to her, approached menacingly - and slammed the door in front of her nose.
* * *
This was the same room in which they were caught in a storm. Nobody put the glasses back again, and, while the guys were whispering and giggling at Diana, Marina sealed the window with a large map from the geography office.
“It's dark, of course,” she concluded, “move two rows back.” We will draw.
- Hooray! - Children picked up.
- What to draw? - asked Andryusha.
- New Year, - Marina answered without thinking, - Christmas tree. With balls and serpentine and gifts. Everyone can draw a Christmas tree?
- Yeah!
- Well, no. I'll show you right now.
She got paint, and all the children crowded around the first desk, looking as she led the brush over the paper. Nodding as if he understood everything, everyone went deep into his album.
- Aunt Marina, - Ilya called the Footballer - he walked in a blue zenit scarf and dragged a keychain with a soccer ball on his briefcase, - And Santa Claus - is he red or green now?
Marina thought. “Some would like Santa Claus to be red or green. Some people love to put on their side those who are believed, those who cannot be asked directly. Santa Claus. Deceased ancestors. God They are trying to wind a scarf with the name of their team, not realizing how pathetic and stupid it looks. ”
- Not so and not so. It is white as snow.
Ilya nodded and continued to draw.
While the tassels floated on the sheets in a rosy and colorful way, Marina looked out the window. The street was deserted, but, incidentally, it is not surprising. Children at school. Denis and his fighters probably rushed back into the woods. The rest at home or at work.
Suddenly, a procession emerged from around the corner. Four Danovskie guys in camouflage led, but rather dragged, bound boy with a bag on his head. “The one? What shot us? ”. Marina turned around - the children have not yet noticed, draw - and again stared at the convoy. She saw the curtains in the houses pull back with curiosity, and the more glances the soldiers chained to themselves, the clearer their step was.
“Show off,” thought Marina, “Or hint?”
The procession disappeared around the corner where the post office used to be, and there was a clang of handcuffs. “They stuffed the phone booth. Like a cage. ”
* * *
It got dark early, the children after school went home. Only Andryusha remained at the school, sat in the medical office and waited for his mother.
And Nastya was sitting in Marina’s house and crying. Marina consoled her, stroked her head and wondered how a man could helplessly cry, who would have entered the cage without hesitation. Tiger still would curtsy crouched.
“That's why she cries because she knows how strong she is. And how she is now afraid of herself. ” Yan Nikolayevich, who had returned, sat next to him, and tried to say something comforting to everyone, but halfway waved his hand toward himself and only sighed.
- Let me spend the night with you, - Marina consoled her.
“You will not stop me,” Nastya shook her head gloomily, “If she covers you again ...”
- I will stop. You will stop yourself. I'll teach you. Children could, and you can.
“Kirill, when he put the magnetic locks on,” Jan Nikolayevich cleared his throat, “he said that little children don't need them. Say, in battle from them there is no sense, so the call to them does not work. Here are adults ... - he spread his hands and sighed. Nastya sobbed and sobbed again. Marina stroked her head and decided to change the subject.
- No news? About ... Boar.
“Not yet,” Jan shook his head. “The storm has brought down many trees.” It is said that half of the roads are filled up, now it’s not so easy for a technician.
- Do you already finish the work?
- Yes, I don’t understand it myself, - Jan waved his hand, - Denis constantly gets up. Then leave him a pass, you will cover up, then he should be ambushed in the bunker, then he no longer needs it. But the rocket is no longer close ... By the way, tomorrow we are still leaving. Olga Petrovna came back there, we should help her with breakfast. Will you help?
Nastya rose and wiped her eyes.
- Yes, we must help, - she nodded, delighted by the presence of the case, - Come on, Marin?
- You go, I'll come soon, - Marina smiled at her. Nastya uncertainly went out and went to school, constantly looking around. Yan Nikolayevich spent her gaze and suddenly realized that Marina was sitting nearby and looking at him almost point-blank.
- Yan Nikolaevich, explain, - she said, - What does it mean “not to get close”? Did you not destroy the rocket? Not disassembled?
Yan Nikolaevich kept silent and only sighed.
- I thought ... God, I thought ...
- We are so at first and wanted, when only they learned about it. The bunker is open, the garrison fled, who of course did not interrupt each other. Were stunned, of course, when they saw this fool. We do not need such a neighborhood, thank you.
“So why are you ...”
- But as? - the old man threw up his hands, - What? Her teeth, or something, gnaw? There is no electricity, autogenous that they found, the case did not take. And then scared to touch it. Well, jerk?
- So, - Marina shook her head, - her father will launch it.
“It is unlikely,” Yang objected, “not a rocket, since we dismantled the equipment all into pieces and pulled it out.” What is not pulled out, turned into a cake. And the entire control room overwhelmed. Cyril came, checked - said that you could not launch it. Yes, and Denis, pah-pah-pah, while holding defense. Don't be afraid, he tried to cheer her up. It was only clear that he himself does not particularly believe in this.
“Death kascheeva in a needle, a needle in an egg, an egg in a duck, a duck in a hare. And you did not break the needle, you locked the hare in a cage. The bad is a fairy tale. ”
Marina excitedly walked around the room.
- Cyril, Cyril, - she repeated, - This is your Cyril - who is he? I have not seen him yet?
- No, he lives on an old farm. He is generally a techcitologist. A typewriter specialist, - Yan Nikolayevich looked at his hand. In a matter of moments, the index finger was replaced with a dozen forms, from sewed to an opener, and returned to its former appearance, - He knows more about you and me. But in general, an intelligent man who knows.
- Nastya said magnetic locks are his idea, - Marina remembered.
- Yeah. And the “mice” are his idea too, added Yan Nikolayevich. Slapped his palms to his knees and stood up, - I sat with you. Do not worry. What we could, we did, and there God will. Goodnight.
“And good to you,” answered Marina dejectedly.
* * *
The dream did not go.
“I slept off for three days,” Marina grumbled at herself. The point, however, was quite different. In what way, Marina herself really could not say, only her heart was pounding wildly.
Andrew was peacefully snoring in the crib. At first Nastya tossed and turned, quietly crying in her sleep, but soon her bad dreams left her. And, it seems, exchanged Marina. She got up from the cot and shivered - cold. Her gaze slid across the old pharmacy sign across the road.
“He’s cold there too, poor thing,” she thought.
After a couple of minutes, she was already outside, clutching a blanket in her hands. She, of course, doubted whether it was reasonable to go to the person who tried to kill her.
“He didn’t try,” she shamed herself, “If you wanted to kill someone when you shot,”
She turned the corner. So it is, sitting, crouched, in a telephone booth, chained by a magnetic lock and still handcuffed for fidelity. Dark-haired, short, frail even. And not a shadow of anger on the face, only fatigue and longing.
“Hey,” Marina called softly. The guy turned to her. Tears glittered in his eyes.
“I didn't want to,” he whispered with a faint accent.
- I believe, - Marina answered quietly, - What is your name?
- Timur.
Marina approached, and he tried to rise, deafeningly gnashing handcuffs on metal booths. Marina would have given him a blanket, but just how could he take it?
“I didn’t want this at all,” he continued, “I study at Herzen, as a teacher ... And we had a field trip to the military department in the unit near Lembolovo.” And how it started ...
“We have to wrap it up,” she thought. She approached, unfolding the blanket, and tried somehow to push it through the window with the broken glass. But then, suddenly, something stupid and cold stuck into her back, and then a convulsion ran through her body. She crawled to the ground in surprise, looking uncomprehendingly at Timur, and he was scared looking somewhere behind her.
And then her consciousness left.
* * *
The prisoner and Marina, both unconscious, were thrown into a cart. Two soldiers sat down in front. The one on the left waved goodbye to Diana. She waved back with a stun gun and contentedly stumbled away. The second one quietly whipped the horse and commanded.
- Nno, darling.
The horse obediently clicked along the road, pulling the cart. The driver was chewing a cigarette without lighting, and his neighbor looked at the captives boredly, occasionally looking around cautiously.
- Hey, do you understand why the two suddenly? - He turned to the driver.
- Not our business, - he answered, - Natasha is now with Dan on the packages, and Dan knows better.
“It’s just that the Novozhilov type seems not to be touched.
- So now ordered. Moreover, it is not a newcomer. Stranger. A spy, then.
The watchman suddenly stiffened. A winged shadow flashed above them with a loud hoot, swept and hid in more often. The horse screamed scared, and tried to turn around on the spot, but the driver screamed at her and gently quilted the reins.
- Owl something. Hear, but she does not wake up? - he doubted suddenly, pointing to Marina, - handcuffs may have been necessary?
- Do you have any extras? - asked the driver, - What are you staring at her, like what?
“Go, you,” answered the second in disgust, “damn, those who believe in her are probably ponapihano.” It's time to all of them at the expense. And this creature in the first place - he suddenly pointed his finger at the horse. She frightened her ears and screamed harder than before, - She is like a lighthouse for the Boar, probably shining.
“I will harness you then,” the driver snapped, “Sit already quietly, eh.”
* * *
“Beautiful lights,” thought Marina, opening her eyes, “Right Christmas Garland.”
Just blinked indicators on magnetic handcuffs. One of them caught fire and squealed as she came to her senses.
“Light,” a raspy and slightly muffled voice commanded. And then it became whitish, bright, so that Marina had to squeeze her eyes again for a while. She wanted to ask what was actually happening, but she could not. Her lips did not obey.
Gradually getting used to the light, she saw that she was sitting, shackled, against the wall of a large, white and light room. The floor and part of the wall were covered with tiles, the fluorescent lights itching as usual. Something was like a hospital ward. Or on the operating room - here is a table with surgical instruments. Only in hospitals, patients are usually not chained to chairs, as was done with Timur. He was sitting by the opposite wall and nervously moving his legs, squinting and winking - some lamps were beating the light directly at him.
Another man was busy in the corner. He was short and stoop, dressed in a suit of chemical protection. When he turned to Marina, she saw a respirator covering half of the face, a wrinkled forehead, gray hair and penetrating gray eyes.
- I turned off your speech, - he explained, - So that you do not bother me. I also installed the “Anesthesia” program for you, you can turn it on yourself. You too, young man, - he turned to Timur, - Although, if you are a real man, you can be patient.
Timur raised his head and stared at him blankly, pleadingly devotedly. Only the old man did not look at him. He commanded loudly and clearly:
- Record.
And approached the table with the tools.
“So let's begin,” he led the story, “the record is kept by Kirill Nikolaev.” Today we have two test subjects and a modified composition formula. Oleg Gennadievich, I thought about your advice and found it practical. I like the idea to make the composition in the form of a gel, but today's test will pass with a liquid option.
Marina suddenly guessed what was going on. Professor gives a lecture to students and shows an interesting experience. This is a lesson. For some reason, it seemed to Marina funny. “I was a student at school, a teacher too. But the learning material, perhaps for the first time. "
He poured a clear liquid from a vial into a syringe and went up to the bound Timur and stood up so as not to block the view of the camera. The young man looked helplessly and hopelessly and seemed to be struggling to whisper, only his lips did not move.
Cyril touched the needle on the skin of his palm, and Timur jerked.
“Easy,” Kirill rasped, “but I see that you turned on Anesthesia, it doesn't hurt you.” Like this.
He just pressed the needle on the skin, without piercing it, pressed the syringe and immediately removed it. The liquid, hitting the skin, almost instantly foamed, hissed and, as if gathering strength, began to devour. In the palm of your hand a curve-sized hole appeared, its edges were charred and burned. Pieces of metal flesh flaked off and fell to the floor, turning into shapeless embers.
Timur looked with some detached, helpless interest. He was not hurt, so he refused to believe that it was his hand that was now turning into a useless stump. Cyril did not even look at him - so, briefly, he cast a glance and nodded, saying that it was intended.Now he was looking at the needle - or rather, what was left of it.
“Notice,” he turned to the camera, “How quickly the spread went.” The structure of the composition is such that it initiates the synthesis with a slight delay. First, the composition envelops as many micromachines as possible, then the synthesis is initiated, and then, ”he pointed out the charred arm with a syringe,“ thanks to the micromachines, the composition is transformed into a strong acid and corrodes the metal.
It seemed to Marina that she was watching some kind of bad film. Of those second-rate horror films where the actors do not even try to play, depict fear, horror, pain. It seemed like a trick, a trick, an illusion. Now Cyril will wave a hand - and wounds will be tightened.
Cyril waved his hand - and bare his own wrist, covered with small gray hairs.
“At the same time,” he said to the camera, “the composition is harmless to human flesh.”
He pressed the syringe and squeezed the rest of the contents into his hand. Without causing the slightest harm, the liquid glass on the skin and drunken across the floor.
- Now you need to wait a bit to follow the reaction stop, - Cyril pulled the chair closer to the table and sat down, sighed heavily. At the same time, he almost completely closed Timur from Marina.
- It was a hard day, - he complained to the camera, - While we wait, I would like to say something. I remember that in response to the last lecture I received a question about the moral and ethical component of the experiment. I answer: these people voluntarily put their bodies under the management of state structures, having signed the corresponding agreement before biorefactoring. Given the abolition of the old institutions of power and the emergence of new ones, I see no reason why military use takes precedence over scientific ones. And, I think, no one doubts the fact that the core of the new social system should be pure people, not subject to outside influence and not prone to unexpected aggression. The rudiments of such a system are now being born in Novozhilovo. It is the healthy human core that has identified these cyborgs - I allow myself such a hackneyed word - as war criminals.For the new society, they are useless and even dangerous. This is the only benefit they can bring to the new order. It is their duty. One minute.
He slowly rose, slowly hobbled up to the canister of water, and slightly lifting his mask, slowly, in large gulps, drank the glass in one gulp.
“By the way,” he continued, returning to his seat, “you may be interested in the second test subject — the girl.”
He made some kind of barely noticeable gesture, and Marina saw the camera turn in her direction. She felt nasty and disgusting. “What will be left of me when they watch this recording? With genuine interest, probably, to watch? ”
- The regime of civil defense, which is active in both subjects, causes micromachines to preserve the life, health and combat capability of the carrier at any cost. I emphasize: combat effectiveness. Pregnancy is just as undesirable as a wound, a fracture, or even a common cold. All attempts at conception will be stopped while the GO mode is active, and I would not hope that the order to cancel it ever be received. Modified women are sterile. And, therefore, useless. So, what about us? - he suddenly asked Timur in a tone that the nurses are asking for to get a thermometer, - apparently, the reaction was over. You can continue.
The camera turned back to Timur. Cyril slowly rose from his chair and raised a gun from the table.
- It is obvious that in field conditions the composition is most advantageous to deliver in the form of bullets. At the same time ...
He shot, not having finished speaking. Timur's hand tried to take the form of a rifle, but stumbled on the burned palm. And after the bullet bit into his shoulder, his hand hung helplessly. A terrible black wound was seething and smoking in her shoulder. There was no blood — the blood dried immediately, and then the micromachines cut off the damaged vessels from the circulatory system. Flesh and bones were replaced by micromachines for a long time and were also charred from the inside. Timur dropped his head on his chest and limply limp on a chair.
- ... the effect achieved is no worse.
Marina was dizzy. She did not immediately understand what kind of sterility Kirill was talking about. The associative series in her head led her only to a sterile room, sterile instruments and a sterile syringe - to what surrounded her now and what constituted a threat. Some legal and logically grounded atrocity was happening, against which every cell of her body protested - whether it was alive or metal.
The door to the laboratory suddenly opened and Oleg appeared on the threshold. In his usual black jacket, military boots, out of breath and very excited. Cyril looked at him as an annoying hindrance and ordered:
- Pause. And, Olezhek, - he suddenly changed the tone for the fatherly affectionate, - Come in. Just have something to show.
Instead of greeting, Oleg poked his finger at Marina and threateningly asked:
- What kind of arbitrariness?
Cyril slowly wiped his hands on a towel and chewed his lip thoughtfully.
“This is the captive you sent me.”
- We sent you one, - Oleg raised his voice.
- I brought two, - Kirill shrugged his shoulders, - If you need it, take it. And you can take him too, - he nodded towards Timur, dangling unconscious. Oleg only noticed him and changed his face. Marina looked at him and looked very carefully. Disgust, fear, pity, indignation - all this swept and again disappeared under the mask of a commander.
- Acid? - all he asked.
Cyril finished putting himself in order, went up to Marina and took off her bracelets. He did not hear the question of Oleg, or ignored it.
“It can be difficult to walk for a while,” he said routinely, as if he were writing out a prescription for a cold, “This is temporary.” The speech will return when you leave the building. I do not want to hear anything.
He turned to Oleg.
- Once I have arrived, tell Denis Nikolayevich that the tests have been completed successfully. You can take the first prototype with you, tomorrow I will send more.
Marina lingered in the doorway, passing forward Oleg, dragging a chair with a prisoner. She turned around: Cyril, grunting, hobbled up to the cabinet in the corner and took out a mop and a bucket.
“Wow,” she thought, not without anger, “The elite of the new system has to clean up its butcher’s shop itself.”
* * *
In the courtyard a horse was waiting for them, on which Oleg rushed and which brought Timur and Marina earlier on the same endless night. Oleg dragged Timur along with the chair and is now dragging him backwards, cursing everything. Marina, staggering, walked beside her and was afraid to turn around.
“Damn Natasha,” Oleg swore, “Now Dan will definitely throw her out of her.” So with you we should not have and will not.
“And with Timur, it means that you can do that,” trembling with fatigue, cold, and some kind of anger that aroused, Marina asked.
Oleg looked at her suspiciously.
- I remember he tried to kill you? Here is a well-deserved punishment.
He let go of the chair and he collapsed to the ground along with the unconscious youth. Rather, it would have collapsed if Marina had not caught him in the air. She picked up - and was surprised how she was able to hold him after all that had happened. "He weighs exactly 60 pounds."
“He did not try to kill anyone,” she replied to Oleg, jerkingly lifting a chair and putting it on legs, “He didn’t shoot, you know. Shot from it. He did not think at all ...
- Did he tell you what he was thinking there? Why should I believe him? - Oleg asked with a challenge.
- Do not believe it, - Marina got angry, - Do not believe me, do not believe him. Do not trust anyone. You want to shoot him, say so!
- And here you would not want to. I have an order!
“Then how are you different from us?” If you can not not shoot, you can not withdraw weapons, you can not desert?
Oleg faltered in mid-sentence. He looked from Marina to Timur and back. And, as if reluctantly, asked in a low voice:
“Is that what you suggest?” He is not a tenant anyway, look at him. Anesthesia will pass and he will die of pain.
Marina, meanwhile, untied the young man from the chair.
- It's not up to you. Help put him on a horse.
Marina picked up Timur's healthy hand. Oleg, slightly hesitating, took the side of the stump. On his face was a squeamishness with which he touched the burned metal flesh.
“Don't turn up your nose,” Marina hissed, trying to lift an unconscious body. “This is your job.”
Somehow they threw him on the horse's back and placed him in the saddle. His head was buried in the mane, his healthy hand had to be tied to the reins so that he did not fall off along the way. The horse snorted with displeasure and stamped her foot. Marina just now noticed a delicate green glow around her.
“Did she gobble up something?” She thought to herself, “Where is her micromachine from?”
And then what? - Oleg asked, patting an agitated horse by the neck, - We will not return to Novozhilovo with him. My head will be removed for him.
It was a mean question. The question to which Marina had no answer. She hoped that Oleg, in his noble impulse, would be able to come up with something.
“Let's think of something,” suggested Marina. Noble light in the eyes of Oleg dramatically reduced the brightness.
- What for?What is the use of cripples? Yes, he wakes up-he will ask him to shoot. Let them not give a damn about the order, but it’s just that even out of mercy you have to finish it off Do not you see?
Marina stood between Oleg, who was reaching for a gun, and a horse.
- Here wakes up, then we ask - does he need such mercy or not.
“Marina, let's not complicate things,” Oleg insistently advised, “Dan ...
” “I need Dan for some reason,” Marina retorted, “since he already sent you to follow me.” And if needed, he will have to endure this too.
- Do you understand that he will not live a day in Novozhilovo? Someone will kill him, if he does not die.
This Marina understood. And while she frantically wondered what to do, there was a sound that she wanted to hear the least.
So rustling propellers drones.
She shuddered and began to frantically look around.
“Quietly,” Oleg said. “This is Kirillov drone, flew the letters to take.” He is harmless.
This, apparently, was true - Marina did not feel any signs of conscription. Do not knock drums, did not howl a siren in my head. Only now the horse did not know about it. Having learned from bitter experience, she, having only heard the approach of the drone, sighed and rushed into the woods headlong without dismantling the roads. Tied to the reins, Timur dangled on her back like a sack of flour. Oleg raised his pistol, but before Marina realized what was happening, he already put it back in its holster, waving his hand in frustration.
- And to hell with him. Dies in the woods, and rightly so.
* * *
They went to Novozhilovo through the dark, into a cloudless moon. Marina continually peered into the forest, but neither Timur nor the horse showed up.
“If he survived,” she thought, “It would not have been all this for nothing.”
- If Kirill reached me, - she asked Oleg, - Would you also finish me out of mercy?
Oleg did not answer her.
When she finally returned to school, Marina carefully returned to the medical room and climbed under the covers. Nastya and Andrew were sleeping peacefully. For them, the night did not pass. It seemed to Marina as if she had seen them last time a week ago.
“It's good that I saw it again”
She passed out instantly, the benefit of sleep was left with nothing. An hour later, Nastya woke her up with a little, cheerful, rested. Marina barely opened her eyes and stared at her owl.
- Arise, Sonya, - Nastya laughed, - I will make coffee. Andrew, let's rise too!
Over a cup of coffee, Marina tried to drive off night visions.
“And I imagine you even slept well,” Nastya told her, “Thank you for being around.” With you, I was much calmer.
Marina nodded and suddenly noticed something dark out of the corner of her eye.
Black steaming spot on the arm.
She jumped up in horror, almost knocking over the table with the cups.
- Oh, - Nastya cried, - I think you dripped coffee on a sleeve.
Go to chapter 9
As usual, I will be glad to any comments - here or Vkontakte (link in profile).
Thanks for attention.
Source: https://habr.com/ru/post/370285/
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