They settled in a hotel, directly attached to the station. We decided to observe at eight in the morning, in case "eighteen" is also "eight".- Then maybe an hour? Yakov clarified.- At one o'clock the station is empty. Eight is also rush hour.“So this is your method, chasing suspicious men?” What if Gargantua is a woman?- So, we will chase after the women.It's at least more fun.Early in the morning Makarov arrived - despite the time difference - peppy and clean-shaven, like a TV presenter of the morning news. He woke up Boris and Yakov and raised everyone's ears, including the local police, "acting" in the framework of a high-profile federal terrorism case (officially they were still dealing with the Stotsky case, which was separated into a separate proceeding). The Chelyabinsk Department of Internal Affairs allocated people, now a patrol police car was on duty at each exit. In addition, four employees arrived from the regional office. They kept watch inside the station, changing
Boris shuffled to his "post" along the way, throwing a glass into the trash can. The crowd of people below flowed like a full-flowing motley river. Peak hour. Boris yawned. He felt heavy apathy and deadly weariness. Putting his hands on the railing, he literally hung on it, spitting on the fact that he began to attract more attention. Yawning again, he stared at the scoreboard. It was already unbearable to look at the streams of people below. He felt nauseous. It must be the crappy schnitzel we had for lunch.And what if he throws up this undercooked schnitzel right into this human river. That will be fun for Makarov, who reports this to the general. Arrival board and departure board. They also dreamed of him. All these Chrysostom, Penza, Krasnoyarsk. Roughly six. No thirty-five. At eighteen thirty-five nothing arrives or departs. Damn thirty-five!Having endured only twenty minutes instead of the prescribed thirty, Boris hobbled to the seats and literally collapsed on them, thrust hi
Shopping center Leroy Merlin. Only here Yakov and Boris heard that the whole city was on its ears. Sirens were buzzing everywhere, someone somewhere was shouting in a drunken voice, apparently from surging excitement. Boris looked around at the edge of the mall parking lot. Behind her was a dark wasteland. Behind it is a fence and a huge building with black window gaps.“Lost,” said Yakov, grinning from the hard run.Boris shook his head.- We drove him, he did not count on it. He needs a break. Boris looked at the long abandoned building.- He is there.Yakov looked at Boris doubtfully, but he was already heading for the fence. Running along it, he finally stopped.- Traces.In the fresh snow, footprints were indeed visible, with a clear indication of dragging and dragging.- Damn size! Jacob was surprised.- He climbed over here, - said Boris, - give me a lift.Yakov helped Boris to get over, and at once deftly got over himself. Boris, crouching down, hurried towards the end entranc
A stammering female voice from behind reported:“My eyes see many more bloody fields. I don't know what Sivanma is up to. But how long will he be entertained by our troubles?Since the Chinese, who was standing opposite Pustovalov, continued to look into his eyes, deepening the tension with silence and, as it were, setting off a strange electric chirp, Pustovalov raised his eyebrows inquiringly, showing Dasha, who was also looking at him at that moment, a "puppy" look. The Chinese did not appreciate Pustovalov's acting abilities. Despite the acrid smell of sweat, the stench of the mouth, heavy sniffling, the black collar of the once blue shirt, the forehead wet with sweat, reminiscent of darkened dough flavored with pepper, unshaven in the form of sparse hair, as if the owner of this body had been using the female hormone tarragon in the form of large volumes for many years beer, reducing the male norm of testosterone by at least half - despite all these purely human signs, the Chines
The picture appeared on the screen again, and the voice of the announcer sounded - he continued to broadcast, as if he had been telling something all this time, and someone simply turned the sound back on. This time, cheap 3D models showed a diagram of an underground shelter. Multi-colored geometric figures, cubes, cylinders, spaces, ventilation ducts, networks, elevator shafts flashed before my eyes. The announcer said that the Sisiji company provided such shelters at its own expense for almost the entire world, and the one in which they were located was called U-4. The announcer did not skimp on praising Sisiji and its leadership, exposing them in the literal sense as the saviors of mankind - well, how else? The state-of-the-art shelter is provided with everything necessary to support the lives of several thousand people. Pustovalov was most interested in the virus protection system. According to the speaker, the vault was a huge isolated space at great depths, separated by tens of
The Chinese began to wave his hands, shouting something.- Everybody get up! - The girl translated. - Exit through the left rear door. Do not hurry.However, before they left the cinema, they had to witness another strange event.The riot policemen entered through the main door and some thin man with a tiny head in square glasses and a fixed grin lost in a ragged beard on an already small face. The man was wearing overalls.The Chinese raised his index finger, which was regarded by all as a commanding gesture to be silent. Then he slowly took from the pillow on the tray, which the girl had been holding all this time, an object similar to a tablet and poked it with his little finger, after which he pointed with the same little finger at the red-haired friend, who was just helping him get up.The guy was frightened and ran to the far door, but the riot police quickly caught him, one of them hit him hard on the back with a baton, the second with his fist in the stomach, so that the guy s
Following the new satellite, Victor went out into an empty block, where an hour ago it was not overcrowded, and now silence and static reigned in objects that keep traces of the departed: sagging leather sofas, shifted chairs, open doors, dirty dishes and still who knows where the wind came from. leafing through the pages of a magazine left on the table. Even the staff disappeared - Victor was sure that there was no one behind the walls that hid numerous utility rooms. Perhaps this certainty is a distant cousin of the panicked fear of the shipwreck survivor who drifts on the lid of the piano and realizes that everything is just beginning. That's just where everyone disappeared, why, and most importantly - what kind of fruit is this mysterious companion of his. Victor looked at the lean man who was giving him smiling glances. It was difficult to determine his age.- Student? - Asked his companion with another unfavorable smile.- MIPT, second year. Victor answered.The thin man nodded.
Larion stood, turned to the wall. I just stood there and stared at the wall.It's started, Victor thought.– Larion?- What?- What are you standing for? Victor asked cautiously.Waiting for the elevator, what do you think? Larion smiled and slapped his forehead. - Bliiin! Imagine what it looks like! Perhaps he thought I was crazy?- Well no. No, no, - Victor smiled too.- Okay, I thought!No, but you said the elevator...- Can't you see the elevator?To be honest, I don't see it.- Yes, that's the door.Victor looked closely at the wall and saw only something that looked like a door for access to communications a little larger than a window.Are you talking about this door?“Now you can see for yourself.But there aren't any buttons...“Listen, things are different here.Behind the wall, indeed, there was some kind of rattle. Larion knocked on the door and, seizing the gap with his nails, pulled it towards him. Seeing a bright white light, Victor could not stand it and looked. Yes, b