It was a great read: no Marquez, nor Hamsun, nor Tolstoy — nobody. For life it was enough for him this novel, and he wanted to end with him. He didn't want to die, he would just end like this novel. It might have been read again. There, in the beginning, everything was different. In the end there was unbearable love. But it was there and nowhere is not going to leave
't have any other books. For life to him now was quite this book, and this hopeless love.
Dmitry Gladyshev finished crying. He decided that there will never be any more to write.
Chapter 19. (018).
People in plain clothes and two policemen approached their car. Zhorin prisoner did what he told him, dropped his head on the steering wheel. The newcomer tried to open the door, but she didn't — at the last second Zhora had drown the button of the stopper and then rap-rap-rap in the glass.
You see, as обнаглел! — heard a sound of their indignation. — At the post right asleep!
-Dismiss need more calmly said the man in civilian clothes. "Who was that you?
-Yes it is well-known sloven! — повыил the voice of one of the policemen. — Now I even name I can't remember!.. Ah, Yes! Zavyalov! Zavialov his name. Igor seem name is...
-Yes Wake in the end, the man! "protested the man in mufti. Unheard of!..
"Because it has even warned today that will check! And not someone! But you are... Forever because it goes to the commander, " muttered the one who remembered the name, continuing to hammer on the door.
-Tomorrow documents for his dismissal on my table! — said the mufti.
-There are, comrade Colonel.
-What do I do? — whisper from under the steering asked Zavyalov. — May be, "Wake up"?..
-..And exit without pants. Not worth it! What is there to Wake up?! — hissed Zhora, almost took in the bottom, on the floor, in the passage in front of the rear seats. "Who's that? Толстунин in civilian clothes?
-No. This is his Secretary! — patter cackled policeman. — I will "Wake up", but I already promised to fire!
-Lie, мусорня fuck! — George shoved for persuasion of his words silenced in the side Zavyalova. — Lie, and do pretend that you sleep, ' less I tell you! Otherwise now you're fired. In that light!
-'t Wake up! — said one of the policemen. Maybe something happened, comrade Colonel?! Let door crack?!
-Break, do what you want, but lead him to his senses! angrily replied Lieutenant Colonel in mufti. — No, I'm just the mother will start from such impudence! Well, now wait, I'll get you!
The civilian Lieutenant Colonel shook his through the glass Завьялову finger.
"Oh, let me, comrade Colonel, punch your window and lock the side of the handle open?!
-I said: do what you want!
-Well, what? They now the broken door! — concerned whispered Zavyalov. — Maybe, "Wake up"?
"I said calmly, rubbish! Remember that you have under the edge of the barrel, which can spit lead! Let the break, " said George. — Better tell him how much he's protection?
"I dunno?!
At this time, there sounded two stupid and strong impact. One of the policemen tried to elbow knock the door window. Another went around the machine, looking in the Windows of the cabin and putting his side to your palm against the blinding light of the street lamp.
"Ah, " said he, apparently, seeing Jora. — Yes, there's somebody out there! Lying on the floor!
"it is time!" "he himself Zhora. The corner of his eye he watched looked into the salon and therefore, after a moment, raised his Uzi and sent first short turn right in his face, which he immediately following the resounding sharp and dry crackle of flames shot, vanished behind потрескавшимся, them completely and instantly окровавившемся glass.
Had remained outside it was impossible to give a moment of time to spare, to ониуспели something to understand, and take it, and because jumping on the seat, Zhora point blank, shot through the glass and the two that stood at the front door.
Scraps of meat and blood spurted into the saloon through the раскрошившееся, smashes разлетевшееся glass door.
-Backwaters! "yelled George in the ear of a policeman. — Click! Turn towards тачкам! Quickly!!!
Stunned, ссутулившийся Zavialov, frantically pulling hands fastened handcuffed to the steering wheel, started the engine and, somehow reaching up lever transmission, pulled the car with a shriek and a squeak of rubber on asphalt, describing a steep arc to the standing opposite the machines.
In less than five seconds, but Жоре seemed that everything happens very slowly, and that all it took him a full minute.
He go shoot a police "Zhiguli" and the next queue gave at the Windows of the first limousine service, but were armoured glass, smoky-whose mirror-like surface only cracked, but not succumbed bullets.
"The devil! — swore Zhora. — Click!
Zavialov started across the floor.
"Although where the "click"? "thought George. Now or never!"
-Turn! "he shouted. — Spin the wheel!
Zavialov gave the wheel sharply to the right. Car skidded and поволокло sideways, gradually, slowly and gradually expanding.
-Click! oral, just crazy, Zhora.
Funky whether, doomed and reconciled whether the policeman clearly fulfilled the command of his unasked passenger, who took the back seat.
Appeared before them limousines. Shot "Zhiguli" somehow burned. From лимузиинов, flinging their шестидверные salons, poured people. Жоре seemed to them a million. They рассосредотачиввались the street, blocking it completely and, falling on one knee, taking aim, apparently for взбесившемуся "Жигуленку".
-The duck! — only and managed to shout Zhora Завьялову himself dived down, on the floor of the cabin, as almost immediately there was a цокающий sound and windshield asunder, осыпав macaroni crumb seat and the Jora. After the car two or three times hard shake: apparently, they downed a few of the shooters.
George raised his head. One jumped on the crossroads by pure chance, avoiding the huge crane, двигавшимся across. Ззавбялов also looked up. Both of them saved the engine, but now from a broken radiator went clouds of steam.
— Won't get far! said Zavialov as if nothing resulted. — Damn handcuffs: me because of them had to be under рульнырять!
-To the curb! Cooler! cried George. — Turn!
They turned out very nice: one quickly and clearly commanded, another lightning performed. Machine крутнуло half a turn, and she left the wheels hit the pavement. Next, very close nasty cut it with several bullets. Back glass "Жигуленка" too "crashed."
-The duck! — скаомандовал Zhora. — Get behind the motor!
-Better handcuffs расстегни!
"Like hell! — жоа pulled the handle заклинившей door.
-I no going back! Расстегни!
-Once! he kicked неподдававшуюся door and куберм flew on the asphalt pavement, not feeling any pain shock. He didn't even know now: wounded or not, and the only feeling that can move around and see the enemy.
Zhora clung to the trunk деревва and peered out. Next settled, хрустнув, fell dispersed, huge shop window. Гревшие in her lamp extinguished! Stopping movement, the road ran gunners in mufti. Some of them have already crossed the intersection. They made the run from cover to cover and freeze there, crouching on one knee in the state изготовки for shooting. From one side of the street Zhora counted three people, on the other were two of them, but he well knew that the minute should get reinforcements, and then have to really tight.
George took the machine at the ready, took aim and, when against the flames burning machine appeared the silhouette of the head, shot at him and immediately rushed to the failure gaping cabinets, made two jumps. Came the response queue. A moment later he was inside of a large store. The darkness of its pavilions tore pulsating light that failed alarm, wheezing popped raucous call. The air was thick smell of sausage and cheese. Zhora suddenly, not the place, felt the worst hunger. He tried to figure out how much he had to go without food, but the thoughts were mixed. Fear and hunger fought in it, as two of the fiercer animals. Hunger crushed fear.
George jumped over the counter. And took out from the Windows of the refrigerator thick sausages, took from it a piece of вонзенными fingers and, almost choking, shoving a huge piece in his mouth.
Chew sausage, брызнувшую juice, it was difficult and tasty. But Жорины hand, leaving her alone, already stretched to the cheese and broke up his десятикилограммовую head on crumbs, able to fit in her mouth.
Carried away by his occupation, Zhora had completely forgotten about their преследователях and, when under the broken Windows showcase flashed and lay their shadows, confused, but then recollecting himself, instead of running away, he began desperately to fill their pockets pieces of sausage and cheese. Only turn вгрызшаяся in tile wall above his head and overturned the standing near scales, led to his senses.
Continuing to chew, George " machine-gun fire and ran to the door utility, debris her empty drawers, ran a corridor and found himself again in the trade hall, but far from the place where there was a broken window in a corner of his part, the former is closer to the junction. From here she could see limousines and blazing police "Zhiguli".
Zhora ran into the middle of the floor, between the stalls and paused in confusion, not knowing, not knowing which way to go. In his direction of the hall ran two, illumined with flashes of alarm. George took out a new shop and, before they noticed him, put both.
From the far end of the room store responded queue. Bullets broke shop window behind him. The lower part of it flew out into the street, and the upper left hanging in a frame, as listed huge knife of the guillotine. Hesitating a little, George flew to зияющуб hole. In thistime someone grabbed by the back of his pants and pulled back. Zhora hit схватившей his hand gun and turned on, Bang, I had to shoot, but at this time, the upper part of the витриннного glass, remaining in the frame slithered on it, as if by полозьям, I heard a crunching sound, and pull him immediately felt better, although his pants still holding. He turned around.
Grabbing him in a death grip, for neither волоклась half a torso men, leaving barely lighted street a trail of viscera and blood. With difficulty, feeling the nausea and disgust, жоре managed to unhook from his Trouser belt hand, compressing quickly холодеющие fingers. It was disgusting. He even thought that the person is still alive and moaning.
Crossroads was quite. He stopped two steps away from the traffic. The movement was blocked by another подоспевшей police machine, брызгавшей in the darkness of blue, red and yellow rotating beacons. Another such machine was approaching the intersection, scaring all around the deafening siren.
At the intersection opposite the traffic lights stopped huge "Kirovets". George jumped on his step, climbed up to the cabin, tore the door open, and showed the driver the barrel of the gun without explaining anything to him, pushed him out to the street car and pushed the accelerator.
Motor, worked at idle, juicy roared. From the exhaust pipe of a tractor burst cloud of soot. George glanced at the sign gear included second and поддал gas.
Mahina jerked from the place, describing an arc to the intersection, swallow it on their wheels of the front of which stood in the middle of patrol cars.
The wheel jerked from the hands of Zhora. Tractor double-jumped, as if the huge hummocks, but stalled. Zhora again grabbed the steering wheel, raised his gun and fired into the open door of the cabin by descending towards the police, "Volga", оглашающей surroundings wild siren. The car made a sharp turn, if the spot queue horse collapsed at full gallop, hesitated for own wheel, подломившееся under the body and flew head over heels, turned over several times through the roof. He did not have enough energy to complete the last turn of this deadly flip, and he just sled, went to the square on the crumpled, flattened roof, spraying sparks, and stopped, immediately caught fire torch.
Жоре there was no time to watch it. Barely making sure that the side is no more danger, he abruptly turned the wheel and sent out-of-print of tractor limousines, still unaware, as thus it is possible to smoke Bondi Bohm of the car.
Both black limousine stood with all the open doors, but when there was danger, the front door cars have become захлопыватьсяодна after another, and she began to roll, circling догорающую cars.
Bondi BOM there!" thought George, making a sharp turn to bypass the back of the machine. However, the wheel of a tractor, which is already rather dispersed, passed on the back of the limousine, the subjugation of her, so that he stood up at the priest and plopped back already громыхающей a pile of metal. "Kirovets", rejected his wheel on the sidewalk caught trying to sneak out the limousine and the printer him to обгорающему skeleton of passenger cars, dragging thus about a dozen meters. Armoured vehicle swallow it for themselves fading emitting последниеискры and soot metal constructions, jumped out with them on the sidewalk and stood притиснутый to the wall of the house Deere. The door stood the mighty blow of the clutches of the bumper "Kirovtsa" and an unyielding stone and lightly bit inside. However, bullet-proof glass exploded, emitted in all directions large peas castle, and the rustle of them fall on the asphalt only the latest sounds escaped from утопившего his rattle and rumble of a horrible shock.
For a moment everything was dead, as if plunged into a stationary eternity photographic print.
After firing and грохотанаступившая silence was unreal, as all this missed a picture suddenly, as if torn, quite unexpectedly, someone's skillful hand of blistering whirl of life.
George suddenly there was a strange feeling suddenly сковавшее his will. It seemed to him that if he doesn't move, doesn't, no thunder, no guns, no fear and anger nor of death in the end. It looked like that suddenly he pulled back suddenly from it all, out of the game, which was not a game, but a reflection on the silver screen, the image, suddenly stopped due to a broken film and is now ready now erupt from the intolerant, scorching glyceric emulsion heat lamp projectors.
And he did not move. He seemed not to move for ages now, staring at the frozen on the screen a picture, and she bubble, broiled, not flabby, and it becomes unbearable.
But that show first bright spots, broken frame...
George realized that it flames, have returned from under the bottom of the armored limousine. He just woke up from the dream and convincing shook his head, then looked back.
By the intersection of them were approaching people. They fled, crouching, приникая the ledges wall of the house and trunks of trees. They were already very close.
