When the shot sounded Zhora is also not understood who was shot. He thought this he first time pulled the trigger. Thought so, because on the face of Gladysheva was written innocence, stupid harmlessness. If he had done a bad job, his face would not be so enlightened.
However, in the next second it became clear that he fired not. Acute pain, extending from the chest, quickly through his whole body. Жоре thought that someone hit it with an axe in the back, but from the other side, from the inside.. all this was very surprised Jora, but together with this he instinctively, sixth sense grasp the entire непоправимость the incident, that he will not be the same as before, if ever, will remain alive, that the health and safety of his body, always taken for granted, now lost forever, and that it was a new band of life, in which there will be nothing but жалкогог влачения the existence of a disability. "Strange how I know all this? — полумал it, feeling that loses balance. No that's not true. This is not true. All will be well!"
The next moment, he lay down on the dirty floor, and Gladyshev to the distraught eyes stood over him, something yelled. But all this was indifferent. Pain, insane, all devouring, has captured them entirely. Жоре thought he had landed in the iron jaws of a monster, and he grinds it into flour.
"How so?" he thought, losing consciousness.
Pain suddenly became somewhere parted, as if уплывая somewhere over the black night sea. No, it isn't executed somewhere from him, so he left it on the shore, and the quiet, dark wave, покачивя boat, отдаляли him from it, carrying away, farther and farther ттемное пространоство.
All around it was quiet and dark. So, how is never the sea, and George thought it was some wrong sea, that this does not happen. But then he guessed that this is not really that something happened before he got here. This calmed him, and he surrendered to the waves, and rocked him, and maybe even carried somewhere. Maybe because there is nothing around to be seen.
Уплывая further through this dark sea of himself, he could not see a beating in the agony of his body.
Now approached the edge of the sea, and he saw the starry sky, calm, cool and serene. It stretched from end to end, and nothing was visible to him in the end. All around were only stars, unblinking and prickly.
Suddenly through his blackness began to be lined каккие-the contours, more and more filled with light. Bottomless, ббескрайняя darkness decreased immediately to the size of a darkening of the eyes, what happens from low pressure or потересознания. Became visible stairs. Then George went higher and as if seen from the outside. It seemed he got out of their own belly, having done this, as the serpent, leaving the old skin. His body lay at the bottom of the staircase and he moved over him and climbed higher and higher.
Next someone stood. So he ran away, and it was hidden. Zhora all pop up higher and higher. Here he soared up over the roof of the house.
Around Golden-reddish, misty haze was a huge city, lying своимикварталами to the horizon. Zhora climbed over him higher and higher, уплывая together with the South. The West was enveloped in a Golden mist. East was the SBI darkness. North lit up green. In the South stood a red haze. There was headed now Zhora. He felt an indescribable fear of darkness, затмившим all the East, like a huge BLOB, and involuntarily sought to the West, towards the light, which seems to get away from him.
Above the dazzling blue sky госились some translucent, ghostly creature, unlike any ever had seen earlier. Perhaps it was the elves or the angels, about whom he had previously heard. And it was no surprise to see so many, because surprised by his condition was no need, and his position, and what happened to him, by themselves deserved the greatest surprise than anything else, являшееся only a consequence of the new situation.
If George was not deprived of the ability to think, лишвшись connection with the brain, he would have to pay attention and much more. But in his распоряении were only motives, desires and feelings, and now he could only live by them. But, taking all совободившееся space in his soul, they have sharpened in excess of all conceivable пределов.одно what he saw no eyes, hear without ears, spoke about many things. Him nothing, and didn't have to explain how it could be, and he just rode at the height of avian flight, soaring up higher and higher into the blue sky, listened to and watched as possible.
Angels elves continued пархать somewhere above, around rushed vociferous, noisy air. Smell it turned into another sense, which is now served him instead of thought, replacing the logic of the brain premonition, intuition. They now told him in some big trouble, expected from the darkness in the East, and he almost saw it, not discerning the clear очертанийподобно how visible silhouette in the fog.
And now it became evident that a part of the darkness in the East separated, split off a drop and rushed to him. Drop this began to grow, to become more and soon turned into something similar to the black chariot, rushing across the sky with his rider, погоняющим winged horses, скалящих blood-red mouth. Rapidly she swept past, and the horseman ruled chariot, little like human being, tried to grab him, Jora, but missed.
Cowering in terror, Zhora rushed back down, backwards one causing it to flow.
Dim outline of the quarters of the metropolis at the bottom, floating in the viscous and pink ether, they started to come closer. Zhora rapidly sank to him, saddled only that his desire to escape and fear проносившейся past the black chariot drawn by six blue-black winged horses. He could see, as it unfolded and again at full speed rushes to him, cutting through the waves of the invisible ether and thereby somewhere below interference in радиоустройствах. She was going faster than Zhora down, although the decline was more rapid nowhere — he flew like a bullet. He's made his desire to be saved last effort, increasing the speed. And black chariot, showering his hellish flames passed her. It was good to see, as the elves and angels fly away with her.
George fell into the abyss of the concrete jungle of the city. The radio here was midst, and move because it was harder. He was rushing about in search of a shelter where you can hide from the black chariots, and could not find where I left it. There was secure he felt it. At first he was moving along the streets, but the black chariot double-swept past him, piercing through the building as easily as free space, almost overtaken him, and George realized that the same can penetrate matter without meeting obstacles.
Now the chase turned into a play, in which Zhora clearly lost to the black chariot. He occasionally abruptly turned and with a furious pace rose to the side. It saved him, but each time the distance between them is decreasing, and the next time Жоре it was not leave.
A furious pace Zhora flew over two or three shelters. But these were not his refuge. These were strangers seekers who, even if he'd really wanted to, could not penetrate. And suddenly he was lucky. Ahead, up to the height to which he was running, ducking away from overtaking his black chariots, was left to them in the body. Hardly had he whisk in him, as the black chariot распорола ether very close with him a shelter. If Zhora could at this moment, he'd breathed.
At this moment the body of Hippo gushing in convulsions, made last move and stood still in the dead stillness.
Gladyshev already saw it. He was down there in the street дадеко from this house. First he ran headlong, and even if asked now to find his way back, could not do this, then, out of breath, wearily trudged hardly, as the old man, the feet. For a long time he still could not come to himself, not seen anything around, pushed passers-by. His hands buzzing like after hard work. At times he lifted them up and looked at them like a madman.
Other passersby downright jerk away from the street, and it seemed to him that they know see him as a murderer and try to slip away with him one-on healthy.
Seeing somewhere ahead, at the intersection of a policeman, Gladyshev frightened, like a hare, turned into the driveway of the old house, went into the dark arch and stopped, waiting for something, froze, listening to the sounds in the street, rising vaulted ceiling if the mouthpiece. It seemed to him that he had been seeking, throughout the great Moscow with wild wails flying here and there yellow-and-blue police Canaries, and on all boards under the inscriptions "They wanted by police", already pasting just printed, still smelling of printing ink leaflets with his portrait.
But nobody came. He stood there, not knowing why. Passed by unknown people on their feet, and he stood there until the street it was quite dark, then went out and wandered back on evening city, occasionally looking back and bypassing rare policemen tenth road.
He didn't care where to go. He had a feeling that today is the last day of his life that he is not only killed a man, but he must die. However, in my head it did not occur to come back to where it happened accidentally, perhaps, but wickedness.
During his absence in the entrance of an abandoned house, where on the third floor lay остывающее body of Hippo, who did not come in, no mortal. In the yard of him stood a black chariot. The blue-black-winged horses impatiently led heads for the bridle, разевали exploding sheep and ржанием called his master to ask them a good scourge and let fly, slicing through the air and giving their inaudible бробным footfall in the souls of men unclear and vague anxiety.
Their horseman meanwhile выхаживался on the ground near the dead body of the man whom he barely managed to catch in her paws. Now he kept her waiting when she left the shelter and thought meanwhile, as if to coax her out of there.
Soul Zhora shudder felt this heavy gauge pace. Barely reaching her deep in the darkness of the dead body. She sought out into the sky, where there was so well flit between angels and elves, but fear not allow her. Instead he lost thoughts, told her that her outside waiting in mortal danger. It was unclear what this threat, but the emotions of the last chase has not yet extinguished, and because the soul was obedient to his fear that restrained her lifeless body, like an anchor.
The sound of a lone shot someone heard and called the police. First came the police, and then the doctors. They did have a dead body, but this does not prevent the owner of the black chariot is near and expect, as a bird of prey, production. Their funny and clumsy machines were standing right there next to his team in the six чернокрылых horses. Horse sniffed his car drivers, but they don't even noticed it, the police and the doctors did not notice that above them like a shadow is someone a lot more of them.
The dead body of a Hippopotamus were taken to the morgue, and black chariot slowly moved along. There horseman a chariot to stand in ожитдании this stubborn soul. Angels don't fly over it, he had nobody to argue for her, and she was completely in his power. He longed to have her, and he was willing to wait as long as would now not needed.
When the soul Zhora, losing gone through fear, возлетела finally, over the dead body, the first thing that greeted her eyes, was a tall, height up to the sky, black column, ending two dazzling, pointed spires, like a gigantic tree. Flying up above, it люболпытством found that this is not a column and not the tree, a giant black tower, two Windows in which those at the very top, burned dazzling green fire.
Mounting up higher still, soul Zhora suddenly realized that it was something terrible, huge, like a man. There was a deafening laughter, black giant grabbed Жорину soul in his paws, and black chariot rushed into the black abyss of Hell.
Chapter 32. (08). 06 -> 08 -> 02
If the desert evening street there shall meet you a man in a black Cape and a hat, hurry up to cross the street, and be baptized over again don't forget. Otherwise, you never know, will come to you under the brim hat face of the beast. I do not presume to even guess what can happen to such a meeting.
Gladyshev the road, no one moved. A passer-by in black bump into him, shoulder, and Гладышеву thought he hit the stone. Turning around, he noticed чтоповстречавшийся with him looking at him гемигающим, piercing eerie look, penetrating to the core, and smiles тонкогубым mouth, as if painted a pale, dusty-white face and sticking mustache.
The whole appearance of this strange so shaken by it, that he could not utter a word, although the first arose after the collision desire was indignant. Cry to him: "What the hell!" — and is stuck in the throat.
-Hit, young man? — asked a passer-by in a black cloak, turning his completely.
The tone of his voice was so indifferent, that it seemed that he was bullied.
"Actually, Yes, " gasped Gladyshev, thinking to himself, with what pleasure he now drove him on this pale, powdered Roger fiery-red moustaches.
-Well, nothing-nothing — faced type, he raised his arm and patted his shoulder. Гладышеву it seemed that even through the fabric of the clothes on his arm got cold, as if coming from his hand.
The devil is, what he wants from me! thought indignantly Gladyshev.
-And I because you kno-o-Ayu — faced continued. — You're the one who wants to become great... Great writer but who does not work... Still does not work.
Shoulder Gladysheva, on which lay a hand in a white glove, the ache fatigue, занемело like an eternity it bore an excessive severity, but crawling, he never noticed this. Now he himself became interesting:
-How do you know? — all has floated before his eyes from the presentiment of something strange and unusual, nothing that happens in life, maybe one day.
-I know much, thin lips again broke into a smile. — And you know almost everything.
-Really? asked surprised Gladyshev enchanted conversation.
-Yes. You are not only a talented writer, you're so great artist! You're a genius.
Гладышеву was scared that someone from the passers-by heard this strange type of nearly shouting, speaking loudly about his abilities, but there was not a soul. This calmed, and he surrendered to the pleasure, with unspeakable сладострасттием listening pouring on him flattery. For the first time he heard something similar. Never before, and no one praised him. He was ready to listen to it to infinity, unaware that his shoulder so tired from возлегшей hands on her white glove that is ready now to fall off.
-How sweet you say to me — Gladyshev was completely mesmerized by the speech рыжеусого stranger. — I am impressed with your words! But let me know who you are?
