(c) Egor ELATOMTSEV, May 1998.
NUMBER SEVENTEEN
part one
The boy was lying on a pile of old straw in the corner of the basement. Light
from the only barred window near the ceiling fell
just on his face, disheveled hair and part of his shoulder in
dark green captain. The eyes were closed, and from the side it could
it seemed like he was sleeping, but I knew he wasn't. From the right
the sides of the thin neck have not yet had time to dissolve the pale red
the stain was a trace of a hypnocaine injection, and there were reasons to
a little worried - the boy didn’t come to his senses for a long time...
the dose would not be too large.
I walked over, leaned towards the boy and unceremoniously shook him.
by the collar. A faint hum in response. Yeah, he gives a voice - that means
another three or four minutes. A magnificent specimen, and just right for me
taste - about thirteen years old, slender, straight dark
hair... face as ordered... Hanging from the trestle bed,
on a hand barely touched by a tan - a white stripe from what was removed and
the radio bracelet I trampled. Unable to resist, I leaned over and
licked the dry, slightly rough skin of the cheek, slightly sweet
to taste. Mmmm... Start right away, or something, while the puppy is passed out -
there will be fewer problems... the main thing iswarm...
No. It's not for me. I'm an esthete. The fingers unclenched, letting go
jacket fabric is not the time. Expectation of pleasure - too
pleasure, and nothing less. Some Greek said, they have this problem
it was easier. While you can relax a little... smoke some nasty stuff,
what they call here in this hole cigarettes. Six steps
back, sit on the box. So. The pack is in the right pocket of the raincoat,
lighter in left. I squinted, clicked - a flame blazed,
the paper cylinder in his teeth began to smoke. Well, this is caustic rubbish,
sore throat... one advantage - it burns for a long time.
Rustle... I put the lighter in place, raised my head and
met the boy's gaze. Large, wide open
eyes. Just what you need. Okay-o-o...
The gaze shifted from me at the window to the door - the only one in
room door, metal, massive - scoured the walls,
again for me - already tense, not yet understanding, but guessing, and
eyebrows came together, lips pressed tightly... He sat up with a jerk.
“Good morning,” I allowed myself a little malice in
voice, - or rather, it’s already been a day, we’ve been sleeping for a long time, young man...
Hard work of thought in charming, now
warily narrowed gazes.
- It's hard to remember, right? - I asked sympathetically, crumbling
ash on the sleeve. - this happens after an injection... I will help. Are you going somewhere
I was in a hurry... for some reason crossingthis construction site, in some
its parts. An abandoned construction site, mind you. Mom didn't teach you
avoid such places? Wow, and that’s how I crossed paths with
me...
The boy remembered, and the basement smelled of fear. I
smiled with satisfaction. The moment I stuck him from behind
syringe, the brat turned around and tried to twitch - because of this I
hit the vein inaccurately, the drug did not act instantly, and it
managed to kick me quite sensitively a couple of times. Now he
I was afraid, and it was nice.
- Who are you? - the voice trembles a little, but the boy controls himself
hands - what do you need?
How many times have I heard this...
“You’ll find out very soon what I need,” grinning
I said through my teeth with one of my nastiest grins,
and about who I am... One journalist stuck me
The Doctor urged him on, and everyone went after him to monkey around. Scribblers in
your shitty Eastern Federation is no exception.
The boy's face began to quickly turn gray. If only not
shit myself like numbers two and eleven, casually disgusted
I thought, all the buzz is down the drain... There’s no way to wash it off, and there’s nowhere to
here...
- Do you read newspapers, watch the news? - I was on my own
good nature - you love fried headlines. "Another one has been found
the Doctor's victim... Abuse of a defenseless child and
brutal murder." By the way - why brutal?Hypnocaine - quite
humanely... yes... what am I talking about? Oh yes, well - "inconsolable parents,
The police are on the trail." The police are always on the trail...
They say you can't be whiter than paper... It's a lie, you can. good
effect. Let's move on...
- But it’s unfair - I introduced myself, but you didn’t. How much
years old, what's your name, where do your parents live? - a rhyme surfaced from the backyard
memory.
He breathes quickly and sat down on one knee. A quick glance at the door.
- I must warn you that the door is closed... break it down like
you see, even I’m unlikely to succeed,” again the grin, “but you
you can try. I don’t recommend shouting either... First of all, no one
won’t hear - it’s a secluded place, and secondly, it will hurt
ahead of time... You won’t get to the window, but you won’t get there
If you get through, it's a grate, and it's a bit narrow.
Hunched over, looking down. He licked his lips, nervous...
- So what about the name? For memory...
Don't overdo it with intimidation. It's still clean to me
needed... for the time being...
An unexpected look eye to eye.
- My name is Tony Staller. My father is very rich. He will give you
as much money as you request...
Ah, that's it. I grinned.
- It sounds unpleasant, Tony... but no. Money is not what I care about
necessary... I have enough of them. And then, you saw me in person...
so - sorry. This is your last day...
He didn't like this oneperspective.
“You, of course, have a choice,” I spread my hands, “you
you can flail, scratch, scream... even bite, like
number four... you'll just make the process longer and
painful...
The pale face is in amazing harmony with the scarlet ears. He
understood well what process... I did not know at his age. A
When I found out, I was sincerely surprised: “But how? Where?” Realizing, long
spat. He was young, stupid...
- What if I don’t... flutter? - he asked quickly.
What a sweet offer. You will always have to talk to
next... And why didn't I do this before...
- This doesn’t change things... But if you’re a good boy...
everything will not last long and it will hardly hurt. And then it’s as if you fall asleep.
Tony shook his head.
“As you wish,” I said indifferently, “you choose.” Both
the option, of course, is not so hot. But it’s always nice when there is at least
some choice.
Choice... Did I have a choice when Central Asian
The Republic got into the Northern Conflict, and from the third year we
swept everyone under the gun? Nothing like that. Maybe there was a choice
later, when we killed so as not to be killed, and not
there was nothing but their guys and the walking dead,
who only needed to be brought into their proper place
condition? I don't think so. That is, there were opportunities... but it was too painfullousy.
- You and I are brothers in misfortune, guy - hoarsely
I laughed, - for some reason you always have to choose between
"sorry" and "very lousy"...
The time for frivolous chatter was over. The time was coming
hysterical screams and pleas for mercy. And perhaps attempts to
resistance. Boys almost always fight to the last
girls are another matter. Sometimes I had the feeling that...
the first part of the performance they are always prepared in advance and break
We started only on the second.
Tony, without looking up, watched the light of the cigarette.
“You’re thinking correctly,” I grinned, hiding my smile in
corners of the lips, - now let’s finish smoking... and then we’ll start, why bother?
With these words I took a couple of long drags, and the cigarette
shrank by one and a half centimeters. The smoldering tip has become
warm your fingers, and with a deft snap of your fingers the cigarette butt flew away
right in the window. It's a small thing, but nice.
The boy tensed like a string, pressing his back into the wall. I
stood up, took a couple of steps and stopped. The palms began to sweat, and
I had to wipe them on my cloak.
- Well, baby, are we going to flutter? - still a voice
trembled, gave out, and I was angry with myself for it.
No answer, just stares and a thin stream of saliva
dripping from the corner of the mouth.
“Silence is a sign of consent,” I stated and moved
forward, smiling widelymouth. Will he dive under his right hand? Or
under the left? Let him twitch, it will be more interesting...
Steps up. We heard them both and we both froze. Someone
He walked up to the upstairs window, stomped around a little, and sighed. Then in
the basement became noticeably darker - an unknown person tried to look
into the window.
I moved so close to Tony that I could smell him.
The awesome smell of a boy who hasn't showered in a couple of days or so.
that... and the smell of fear... What a pleasant mixture. Sweet
my chest ached... but that came later, a little later...
- Quiet, or you'll be killed right away... now. Quiet. - I exhaled
in his face.
Nod. I believed you, of course. Little prick? No, you can't, two
doses in such a short time... I'll lose the kitten.
Backing away, he approached the door with his back, without looking, he touched it with his fingers
magnetic plate. The lock recognized my fingerprints, and the door
opened slightly. Simple, but reliable.
“If you make a sound, you’ll regret it,” I admonished the puppy and took off.
up the stairs, jumping three steps, quickly and almost
silently. Then he rounded the corner of the building and collided nose to nose with
unknown.
Shorter than me, stocky, in a tattered hat and a striped white
T-shirt underneath. Seems to be quite sturdy in appearance - a bit strange
for a tramp. Dirty red, and generally dirty. In the mouth - mine
cigarette butt
It was very quiet - for a kilometer and a half around, except
dilapidatedbrick houses, no one. And a small window
under our feet. How did this fruit get here? Those who are looking for
overnight, do not climb deep into the territory.
“Get out of here,” I hissed, “quickly.” Rex.
The tramp was in no hurry. The situation did not seem to him, judging by
everything, dangerous - my appearance did not make any special impression on him:
raincoat is not the first freshness, a little fullness, bald patches, nose
potatoes. Who did he take me for? For a competitor in search
overnight stay? His lips parted, but the redhead said nothing.
managed.
A scream cut through the stagnant air of the unfinished town:
- Run! It's the Doctor! Call the police! Tell daddy that
I'm here! It's Tony... Staller Tony!
Fingers clutching the bars from the inside. Two meters above the floor -
needless to say, he jumped, pulled himself up... However, if you want to live, you won’t
then you will do...
Share your thoughts about the article