Бесплатный фрагмент - Chernobyl Yorick, or The death of a grave digger

Chernobyl Yorick or the death of a grave digger

The Chernobyl disaster affected many destinies. Classmates decided to try their luck and get some treasure hidden in the territory of the mysterious and dangerous exclusion zone, but the mysterious black “Volga” with the number “SSD” does not allow them to carry out their plans. What is it — a conspiracy, people or rock of fate?

Disclaimer or a few words from the author

Dear, adored and beloved reader!

I would like to remind you of some quite natural things, which, of course, each of us understands and realizes, but at the same time it will not be superfluous to repeat and speak.

Firstly, the book — a work of art is purely entertaining, the characters are fictitious and any coincidence with real people is pure coincidence.

Secondly, illegal visits to the Chernobyl exclusion zone are punishable by law.

Thirdly, do not forget that such a trip is extreme (and it’s not just about radiation). Therefore, if you want to visit this place, use a legal tour.

And, perhaps most importantly, do not forget the heroes. On April 26, 1986, a terrible tragedy occurred, the consequences of which are being eliminated to this day by specialists from all over the world.

Well, we can move on and…

…enjoy reading.

— BEFORE THE PROLOGUE. LEGEND SSD-

The Red Square. Green Christmas trees.

A boy in a yellow T-shirt runs.

Black “Volga” rushed by, rustling…

In vain, the mother is waiting for the baby.

(Belousov 1998: No. 60)

Mila looked thoughtfully out the window.

— I remember, I constantly heard this story from my grandmother. For some reason, this car brought her into incredible horror, — the girl shrugged her shoulders, turning to Valera. — She kept saying that you need to move away, saying that if you are against the authorities, even mentally, or even some petty hooliganism, then a black Volga will definitely arrive and the person disappears without a trace. When I tried to explain that the Volga was taking me somewhere specifically, my grandmother always said that I would be gone.

— By the way, I also remember, — Andrey adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “When I was a child, I somehow scratched a portrait of Lenin with a pen, drew snot, the pupils were vertical and so, on trifles,” he laughed softly. — My parents went white with horror. Grandmother generally burned the primer and the ashes dripped somewhere in the garden a meter deep so that there was not even a hint left. I was very small, I didn’t understand what was happening, and my parents kept repeating that a black car would come and I would disappear into nowhere.

Valera twirled the rosary in his fingers.

— Well, in general, this tale was often retold, — he shrugged. — They said that people simply disappeared and allegedly, they are also disappearing now. They say they take them away in a black Volga and that’s it, these people will never return again. And as Orwell wrote: “The end is already contained in the beginning.”

Never. Mila exchanged a meaningful look with Valera. Black car. Black Volga. And the ominous number “SSD” — Death to Soviet Children.

— PROLOGUE-

Security Specialist

nuclear power plant said: “Kick!”

from a leaky pen in his pocket.

But twenty people still turned gray

(folklore)

— Valera?! Valera, fuck! It’s you! — a large guy in a tracksuit and a purse under his arm exclaimed joyfully. — What are you doing, sir, what fate?

— I brought a small one, — the one who was called Valera barely perceptibly nodded towards the big-breasted blonde with unnaturally pouted lips. — Normal maza, — looking around the house, the man noticed.

— Che pokumari, bruised? Let’s hang out with chicks? — the friend did not lag behind, watching the sexy blonde, who quickly disappeared into the house.

— No, brother, things are on fire, — he shrugged his shoulders, and his fingers deftly fingered the rosary. — Come on, Kitty, on the call, what!?

He left with mixed feelings. Alexa asked her to give her friend a lift to a country house for her birthday, where a big party was planned with all the ensuing consequences. As a clear kid from the district, Valera did not see any problem and, of course, without remorse decided to help the girl, whose pornographic appearance suggested very pleasant thoughts. Alexa, or according to Alexia’s passport, was an accessible, albeit capricious, girl. She easily paved the way to fame and money through the bed, sincerely proud of it. All the boys of the school and Sudar wanted her, but he remembered this, Valera, and, by the way, understood and even supported. He also wanted to get her into bed and even succeeded in doing so without much effort. For a couple of times with such an appearance, “Small” was enough, and then Sudar began to look for another girl with whom he could talk. It was normal, like satisfying your hunger with a warmed-up pizza or brewing noodles, and then screwing up a plate of homemade borscht. No relationship, no obligations, just good times and no remorse.

“VAZ 2106” inherited from his grandfather — the only relative to whom Sudar Valera Petrovich had warm feelings. The mother (forever drunk, forever young) did not take care of the child at all and soon died, freezing to the point of losing her pulse in the winter somewhere in the alley with drunk friends. Little Valera was brought up by his grandfather Athanasius and the street. Very quickly, Valera became the main one in the area, earning respect from the local punks. The street dictated its own rules, and the Sudar could not be proud of all his actions. There were different things: fights, thefts, alcohol, cigarettes… but the main thing that the Sudar tried to follow was the call of conscience and honor.

In the light of distant headlights, a fragile figure of a girl flashed.

“Bad one, right? At night on the road, also outside the city, “Valera chuckled, shaking his head. Already approaching closer, he recognized in her a former classmate, Mouse, as the boys mentally christened her in the area. But Kisa called her Viktorovna. Quiet, unremarkable.

— But as they say, there is a nuance, — Sir smiled at his own thoughts.

***

Four years have already passed since my grandmother’s death, but her story has become a deep scar in memory, reminding me of myself, intriguing and not allowing me to forget in any way. Mila went over the memories in her head, as if she were leafing through the dusty pages of an old forgotten book, and the words of her grandmother, beloved Galina Dmitrievna Vyazemskaya, carved as if in the granite of her memory, were hooked with their hooks. Today at her house, Mila was unpacking things. Grandmother often talked about her youth, about the years spent in Pripyat, and mentioned some important box that she left at home on the day of the evacuation in 1986. Mila hoped to find clues, perhaps a personal diary, to unravel the mystery of the “black box”, but hope died almost immediately. Grandmother’s small private house was austerely empty and cold, without a single hint of the past. Although this is not surprising, because in recent years she lived with her granddaughter in her inherited apartment. Thus, having buried her mother, and a couple of years later, her grandmother, Mouse Mila was left alone with the only question that worried her — what was hidden in the box? Sometimes I thought of going on an excursion to get an answer to the question posed empirically, but so far it remained at the level of fantasies and secret requests to the universe. Galina Dmitrievna often talked about Soviet legends, about her carefree life in Pripyat, work… and everything always came down to the box. Something important was stored in it, something that needed to be taken with you. Why, the evacuation was promised for a couple of days, which could go wrong.

It was still far from the city, but Mila resolutely walked forward along the side of the road, hoping to get home by morning. Rare cars did not stop, hurrying about their business and perhaps mistaking a lonely girl for a representative of an ancient profession; there was also no bus route. The girl cheerfully walked forward, not daring to complain about the circumstances, feeling calm and confident.

The sound of a motor was heard. Mila didn’t even turn around, that’s enough. The cars did not slow down anyway, and the girl was ready to go all the way herself, without asking for help anymore. But suddenly the understated “six” slightly overtook braked, driving the front wheel to the side of the road. The glass creaked down.

— Hello, Viktorovna! the man said through the open window.

The girl shuddered and mentally groaned — she brought a hard one on her head from a former classmate. Valera was a peculiar person — he was on his own mind, sometimes he stole. The reputation was lame, and at school it finally and irrevocably bent, but unlike his friend Kisa, it was a little cleaner and a little whiter. Although Mila could not say anything bad about Sudar, she still tried to avoid him, taking care of her reputation and saved nerve cells, which the guys could pat so badly with their antics. Kisa showed her signs of attention for some time, and the Mouse, still remembering this, trembled, realizing that she was afraid of this person, thinking that he would not have taken her refusal adequately. But the situation resolved itself somehow. And although there had never been rumors that Sudar and Kisa had raised their hands against the girls, they still didn’t want to check.

Valera looked at her classmate with a bored look. She lost a lot against Alexa. Thin, nondescript, with the absence of any hairstyle and cosmetics. Mila resembled a disheveled sparrow with blond ashy hair, and was considered a bookworm at school — forever silent, shy, kept to herself, not making friends with anyone and trying not to contact once again. And she went around in simple clothes: jeans and some kind of loose T-shirt or jacket in the same gray tones. The sir was not interested in this type of girls. He liked pacifiers with a sexy defiant appearance, due to which it was easy to assert themselves in the company, and using them, without a twinge of conscience, quit and not remember. Vyazemskaya Mila Viktorovna was not to his taste… strongly not to his. Jeans and a voluminous shapeless jacket hid a thin figure, further emphasizing the image of a gray Mouse. “Damn, even her breasts are barely a twosome,” — for some reason, Sudar thought with annoyance.

— Come on, I’ll take you! — Valera pulled the handle opening the door and again wondering: “What did Kitty find in it?” “Brother” always spoke of Viktorovna respectfully, falling in love with her without memory and even tried to win her attention, but up to a certain point.

Still surprised, Mila nodded in puzzlement and sluggishly climbed into the car.

“Thank you,” her voice was always low, but calm. Mila could not be called timid with outward shyness. She knew perfectly well what she wanted from life and preferred to move forward without initiating anyone into her own plans. Perhaps because of this, she was often considered wonderful, and someone jokingly called the holy fool.

— What’s up? The students didn’t get sick, did they, Viktorovna? the man asked mockingly as he swerved onto the road and shifted into a higher gear. Because of the girl’s eternally serious face, Valera often addressed her by her patronymic, however, not wanting to offend. Yes, and this habit was “torn” from a friend — Kisa. But by the way, he could not remember Mila smiling or even laughing, although he had known her for a long time. She did not play with other children in the yard, rarely kept up conversations, preferring to sit with a book on a bench next to her grandmother.

— Petrovich, stop your prison slang, — Mila crossed her frozen arms on her chest. Slightly trembling, the girl tried to wrap herself even more tightly in her voluminous sweater.

— Come on, what are you, Mouse, — he turned on the stove. — Not strangers to each other. Consider grown from one pot, — Valera chuckled, wanting to cheer up a little and defuse the situation.

Yes, not only did they live in the same area, but they also went to the same kindergarten, the same school, and moreover, the same class. They spent more than one year at the same desk. The sir briefly glanced at his former classmate, involuntarily comparing with Alexa. Well, not a bomb compared to the blonde. None, gray and inconspicuous. Yes, and Alexa’s magnificent forms cannot be compared.

The mouse sighed heavily. It seemed that she wanted to get away from this conversation, but sitting in the same car with her interlocutor, this was difficult to do.

— So Che, all in the same place at the department?

“Yes,” she answered reluctantly.

— And what are the fates outside the city?

— From my grandmother’s house.

— And how is Galina Dmitrievna doing?

“She died,” Mila answered after a pause, feeling a lump of tears stuck in her throat, but it was impossible to cry.

— Oh, sorry, I didn’t know. Please accept my condolences, — quickly corrected Valera.

They drove for some time in silence, listening only to the hum of the running engine and the whistle of the wind outside the window. Having entered the courtyard, the “six” parked at the entrance.

— Thank you, — the corners of Mila’s lips barely trembled, denoting a faint hint of a smile.

— Listen, Viktorovna, — Valera hurriedly left the car after a former classmate. — You are… contact, if Che. Suddenly, help is needed, — he awkwardly ran his fingers over his head, ruffling his hair. “I understand how hard it is. I also lost my grandfather — he himself could not understand what this impulse was connected with. The sir could only guess how hard it is for a girl to live alone, when she has no one to even ask for help.

“Thank you,” the girl repeated. — And stop calling me “Mouse” and “Viktorovna”. I have a name.” She frowned.

— Not a mouse. Mouse, — Valerka grinned impudently, but passion burned in his eyes.

— Sir, yes you run up. And on the scoreboard?

— There is no bazaar, I understood everything, — he raised his hands conciliatoryly, as if admitting defeat, but at the same time smiling slyly. The fact that it was quite possible to get “on the scoreboard” from the Mouse, he knew firsthand. Even in elementary school, pulling his pigtails, Sudar did not frailly catch a slap in the face, and after the so-called relapse, a mathematics textbook fell on his head. Further desire to bully Milka immediately disappeared.

With a wave of goodbye, the classmate disappeared into the entrance. Waiting for the light to come on in the window of her apartment, Valera grunted and barked at the top of his lungs:

“Viktorovna, you’re still a Mouse,” and laughing out loud, he left in an unknown direction.

— CHAPTER 1-

SSD

Quiet on the street

clean in the apartment

thanks reactor

number four.

(folklore)

Andrey straightened his glasses with a habitual gesture, putting them back on the bridge of his nose.

— I answer those, this is a real topic. Damn, I will, — his cousin, Gennady Karavaikin, once told him. And where is he now?! Where where? In the ground And they were buried in a zinc coffin. The story seemed like a fiction bordering on schizophrenia. But delving into history, everything turned out to be much more confusing and interesting.

Alexa gracefully stretched showing off her perfect figure. Not an ounce of fat. Deaf-grandfather Andrei smiled smugly. Yes, such a nerd as he slept with such a beauty. It flattered him, raising his ego to unthinkable heights. He had known Alexia (or simply Alexa) since kindergarten, and then went to the same school with her. The girl has always attracted attention by dressing provocatively, emphasizing her figured virtues and hiding mental deficiencies. Although Kolya (Botanik’s brother) did not speak well of the girl, believing that a woman should be… Be?! Yes, there should be a whole list of requirements, and a separate one for a life partner. But all this is poetry, and therefore Kolya was left alone at his thirty-three years old, tritely needed by no one except his own brother.

— Nothing, you’ll see, I can find this treasure. And then we’ll live.

— And there will be popularity? — capriciously clarified Alexa.

— Still what, — Andrey snorted. — Popularity will skyrocket. And if we use it wisely, we will be able to earn three hundred thousand a month on advertising alone. And this is the minimum.

Arching herself, Alexa, like a playful cat, climbed onto the bed, teasing her imagination.

— So what’s the treasure?

— SDS… Death. Soviet. Children. Do you know about it?

— I watched the movie, — languidly closing her eyes, the girl bit her lip.

— No, it’s not about Anfisa Chekhova, — Andrey stroked Alex’s shoulder, lowering his hand lower. — The legend said that a black “Volga” with the number “SSD” abducted people, mostly children. A strange legend indeed. In Soviet times, black “Volga” were reserved for public use as a departmental vehicle. In private hands, such a car was not sold. Yes, and during the period of mass repression, the Volga was used by the NKVD. And they were painted black as if they were catching up with horror. Karavaikin said that in the Chernobyl exclusion zone, he and his wife hid one such car, literally buried somewhere in the garage, and an innumerable treasure is stored there … — Andrey fell silent, distracted by Alexa’s gentle strokes in especially sensitive places.

— Maybe it’s tales!? — the girl invitingly licked her index finger on her right hand, knowing that it looks exciting.

— Brother never spoke about what he did not know. Moreover, I have a card. It remains only to assemble the expedition, — Andrey adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

— A whole expedition?

“Illegal,” corrected the botanist. We need reliable people who will not be afraid.

— For example, I … — Alexa smiled, licking her plump lips.

— I’ll be glad if you go with me — he barely concealed his glee. But it will be a difficult hike. Need someone who could help in really dangerous situations.

— Is there anything I can help you with?

— Persuade Sudar. His skills would be useful.

— Mmm… there will be three of us.

— Four. Kolya immediately said that he would go.

Alex stretched, and then getting up from the bed smiled slyly. Shaking her hips, the girl walked around the room, collecting her scattered things and slowly getting dressed, as if performing a striptease in reverse. Distracted, she wrote a message to Valera, the same one who was Sudar, and, waiting for an answer, slowly stretched out:

— I will help.

Andrew had no doubts. But there was a pang in my chest. He knew that with the same ease with which Alexa indulged in love pleasures with him, with the same ease the girl lay down under Valera. And there was no point in being jealous. A nerd always remains a nerd and he simply had nothing to oppose to the local gopnik. Valera took his own impudently, resolutely, as if there were no obstacles. He’s always been like this, ever since kindergarten. He was adored by girls for his clichéd “bad boy” image. Andrei was ashamed to admit his own jealousy. And he hoped that by finding that very treasure, he could keep Alexa close to him with money and fame.

The Karavaykins (both wife and husband) said that when the accident happened at the fourth power unit, documentation and equipment were urgently removed from the military camp of Chernobyl-2. The panic was such that the loss of one service car was not found. As far as Andrey remembered, Gennady Karavaikin dreamed of going somewhere out of the country, dreaming of sunny Miami and saying that as soon as, so immediately. And the only thing that kept him from the trip was the same Volga, without which he could not leave.

The map smelled strange, a crumpled piece of yellow paper, the only thing left of his brother.

***

Valera chuckled. Long legs Alexa beckoned. Even the girl herself was not visible, and her legs were already stepping forward. Long slender, they attracted everyone’s attention regardless of gender differences. She left him a short message, asking him to pick up from a classmate. Thinking that you can pass the evening pleasantly, the Sir responded to her request.

— Well, Malaya, to me or to you? — impudently hugging her by the waist, Valera chuckled. They often hung out at someone’s apartment, making “love, not war.” Moreover, the pornographic appearance of Alexa set up only for carnal pleasures, but not for talking about high things.

— Oh, I’m so tired and not in the mood at all, — she pouted her silicone lips.

— Check out the fit, — Valera pulled a bouquet of roses out of the car. For you, little one.

Alexia jumped up and with her a five-kilogram silicone dignity called breasts. Top with a huge neckline emphasized the size as much as possible. Yes, there was something to see, the surgeon did his best to make a real full-length Barbie doll out of Alexia. True, the “toy” was clearly not intended for children. Although… men are always children.

— Can we go somewhere? I’m so hungry.” She threw up her hands theatrically. — Please, Valera.

This evening was no different from the previous ones. Everything is also “oh I want” and “you are my only one”. And tomorrow she has a new boyfriend and a new lover. And so in a circle.

Lying in a cooling bed early in the morning and watching Alexia get dressed, Valera yawned and asked:

How is Botan doing? — Sir, as always, stressed the first syllable in the word “botan”. It’s been that way since school. If botan sounded annoying and more offensive, then botan, according to classmates, looked quite weighty, more authoritative. Moreover, Andrei was appreciated, especially for the opportunity to write off homework or control.

— Oh, he is obsessed with the idea of finding a treasure, a treasure.

— What treasure? Valera asked deceptively indifferently.

— Valera, well, epta, don’t say that you believe in this childish babble, — she suppressed a smile, knowing that the bait was swallowed.

So what kind of treasure is this?

— Do you remember Karavaikin?

— A general or a general’s wife?

“Both,” Alexia rolled her eyes. — Are you serious? This is nonsense!

— Don’t worry, little one. I just asked.

Andrey buzzed my ears. He seriously thinks to go and find this treasure. Only one is not f-fariant. He says he needs a team.

— That’s because the gravedigger, — Sir chuckled, he was always amused by the chosen lisp of the girl because of the silicone lips. — And what? Have you been offered to go?

— Well, he offered, — Alexia admitted not though. — I do not know. All the radiation… fu, suddenly my chest will decrease or pimples will appear.

The sir lazily threw his hands behind his head. “And like Mishka Yaponchik: “Gorgeous look, “the man thought, admiring his sexy girlfriend.

— Botan asked you to bring me to the campaign?

— Valera, — the girl straightened her chest in a tight bra. “Do it… not for Botan… for me.” She leaned towards him, showing off her perfect body. I promise I will do anything for you.

Seductive. Why does he need everything? He already owned her body, and more was not needed. But adventures, treasure… maybe Botan is right, and the treasure found will help you get back on your feet, buy a normal car, maybe open a shawarma tent. Worst case, it will screw up.

— And as Rhett Butler said, I’ll think about it, — not wanting to bend under the girl, he coldly remarked.

— Well, if you want to play… role-playing games, that’s all. I’ll be a nurse or a teacher, — trying to persuade him, Alex took sexual positions.

— State employees do not excite.

Alexa pouted her lips. She tried. She put the man to bed again and again, hoping to get her way, working miracles of ingenuity in carnal pleasures, which she had learned through experience. Even Alexa herself could not say exactly how many men she had, preferring to use her body to achieve goals. And it suited her. They arranged lustful glances, promiscuous sex. She enjoyed life, believing that she had the right to live as she pleased. She left Valera in the evening, without receiving an answer, but she still hoped that the Sudar would make the necessary decision. She did not like the fact that it was difficult to persuade a man to one idea or another. Still, he was always on his own, using his head for its intended purpose and not making rash decisions. Perhaps, for this, the girls loved Valera.

After seeing off Alexis and putting him in a taxi, Sudar, after thinking, popped into the garage with the boys, to have a beer, to talk about life. It was a common thing, more a habit than a real need for communication. But it filled the void well. Kents will always support, no matter how scum you really are, they will not condemn, because it will not be like a kid. They drank beer and cracked sunflower seeds, telling jokes and discussing the latest news in the area.

The phone emitted a short beep, announcing an incoming SMS. With a deft movement, Valera took out a smartphone and looked at the screen. “There is a topic for conversation. See you tomorrow at 7 pm at my place. Of course, Botan did not hope that Alexa would be able to persuade the gopnik to his scam, and decided to take matters into his own hands.

Shrugging his shoulders, Sir put the phone back in his pocket, and again kissed the bottle.

— I want to grab something. Maybe it’s, we’ll come to the Metropol? The big guy adjusted his cap.

— Why, let’s go, — Valera tirelessly twisted the rosary.

— No, brothers, today I passed, — another “real kid” shook his head negatively. — Mother will come home from work soon, asking for help.

“Mother is sacred,” the others did not deny.

As happens in the provinces, the loud name had a very inappropriate place. For example, a crumbling shed with household utensils was called “Babylon”, and a tent with vegetables “Dionysus”, although even a child would be cramped on one square meter, not like a Greek god. When the first department store was built in a small town, the inhabitants cheered up, after all they had grown up to big stores. But everything happened in the best case of the market — a large room was turned into a kind of market under one roof, proudly calling it “Metropol”. Tents and small nooks and crannies remained. The only innovation that appeared was the fast food area and the food court: a hall with tables where you could sit quietly and drink beer with friends and have a bite to eat. Since there were few places in the city where you could spend time culturally with friends, people had only two traditions: to get out into nature or to the Metropol with or without reason.

Kisa was a longtime friend of Valera, although they studied at different schools. And although they did not always earn legally, they sought to change their lives for the better. But the truth is no, no, yes, some inappropriately lying cable spoiled all good intentions and had to cut it off and quietly sell it. Living conditions and opportunities dictated their own rules, often had to survive. But Kisa and Valera, although they were rare thugs in the opinion of many, never offended those who were weaker, never stole from families, preferring to rob state institutions or the rare rich. After the school was left far behind, Sudar tried to radically change his life, left the city several times, tried to settle somewhere, but fate brought him home again and again. Good luck fortanula where they did not expect, namely in his hometown, he managed to open a small car service. And for the first time feeling himself in his place in this world, Valera stopped rushing about, remaining where his heart was calm. In the future, he hoped to expand his small business, buy a new car, perhaps start a family, with little idea that someone would live next to him. As long as you don’t end up in prison. Kisa, on the other hand, did not have enough stars from the sky, he was initially satisfied with life in a city with an exotic name Dubak. Yes, and an unfinished vocational school put an end to any career, so he sometimes lived by turning various frauds and scams, continuing to put pressure on especially greyhound and impudent youth. At one time he liked Sudar’s classmate — Vyazemskaya Mila Viktorovna, thin, gray… Mouse. It was then that they began to call her respectfully “Viktorovna”, the maximum that could be expected from boys from the district. The girl avoided Kisu, running away from him as if scalded, not wanting to accept courtship and signs of attention. Realizing that because of his reputation he simply frightens Mila, Kisa, to his reluctance, left the girl alone. But the city is small and they periodically met with the Mouse. And although the heart continued to do somersaults, at the sight of her, Kisa understood that they could not have a common future.

By the way, about Mila. The sir noticed the girl sitting alone at the far table in the corner with a book in her hands. Frowning, Mila seemed not to notice the rest of the world, completely immersed in reading. Even here in the noisy hall, the former classmate looked gray and nondescript. In a word — Mouse.

— Well, what? Cheburek with cola or pies? Kisa nodded at the tent. Or grilled chicken?

— Yes, Che, you need to look around, — listlessly sorting out the rosary, Valera considered a small selection.

His vigilant gaze caught a suspicious old man, who was no less vigilantly looking for something on the tables of the guests. It seemed that the grandfather was trying to figure something out in his mind.

— Oh, here again, — Kisa nervously chuckled. — Do you see that?! He pointed his head at the old man. — There is nothing to eat, he is constantly begging here. I heard that the grandchildren of the type took everything that was from him, left him to live on one pension. Even the garden was squeezed out.

The sir remembered his grandfather, whom he always loved and respected, and could not imagine how it was possible to leave him to live out his life in this way.

Having stopped playing the rosary, Valera went to his grandfather’s table and sat down opposite. Up close, the old man looked even worse — a wrinkled face like an old potato, with sunken cheeks, trembling hands. Although the clothes were old, everything looked clean and unexpectedly neat. A short, gray beard barely concealed the downturned corners of his lips, although the wrinkles showed that this man had once smiled a lot. But he was frightened by the dull, sad look of clear gray eyes.

— Hello, — Valery folded his hands in front of him. — Are you hungry?

— What? — the old man turned his gaze to the interlocutor who sat down to him.

— I say, do you want to eat?

— A strange question, young man, — it was clear that the grandfather hesitated, seeing two gopniks in front of him.

— A normal question, — nervously Valera twisted the rosary. — So what? Hungry?

— Yes, — grandfather looked from one to another.

— Don’t go anywhere, we’ll come, — standing up, Sudar pulled Kitty after him.

Petrovich, what are you doing? friend didn’t understand.

— Listen, grandfather, if he knew that I did not help, he would turn over in his grave.

They walked through the tents, bought food for a decent amount and returned to the pensioner.

— This is… a small adjustment, — Valera jerked his head nervously, placing the tray in front of the elderly man.

— And now, with him again, — Kitty put a bag of groceries on a chair next to him. The boys also invested a wallet with a small amount there: the meager savings that they had.

— I … — grandfather’s eyes sparkled with tears. — Yes, how…

— Normul. Father, don’t blame me, you helped in any way you could, — Sir shrugged his shoulders, feeling someone’s gaze on him. Shivering, he straightened up, not understanding what had alerted him. With a quick glance around the room, he found the culprit. Or rather, the culprit. Mila, with interest, watched what was happening, looking over the book. There was something more than approval and curiosity in her eyes, something that she wanted to understand. The look was mesmerizing. The sudden thought that Alexa had never looked at him like that made Sudar feel irritated. He often compared girls with a sexy blonde and it seemed that everyone always faded, and Mila was invariably perceived by the Mouse. She wore shapeless clothes that hid her figure and it looked strange.

“Kisa found something in her… maybe that look!?” he thought.

— Petrovich, are you hung up? Let’s go at least for beer lupanem, — Kisa pushed his friend in the shoulder.

— Let’s go, — finally tearing his eyes away from the Mouse, Valera turned back to his grandfather. “You… take care of yourself.

After wandering around the hall, they chose a table and settled down behind it.

— CHAPTER 2-

DEAD ROMANCE

There is a session of the Verkhovna Rada of Ukraine.

The question on the agenda is how to use the land

around Chernobyl? Cereals cannot be sown

especially roots…

One MP proposes:

“Let’s sow the fields with tobacco,

and on the package we write:

“The Ministry of Health warns for the last time…”

(folklore)

The conversation about work smoothly turned into a conversation about nothing, that is, favorite hackneyed, but proven topics about the weather, jokes and how the area lives were used. They were in no hurry. Kitty told some funny things that happened to friends at work. They remembered the school, teachers, classmates. Several times, furtively, Valera cast a glance at Mila, but she again plunged into reading, had no idea about the existence of another world. This did not escape his friend, who openly stared at the Mouse. Everything turned upside down in my soul, and my heart treacherously lost its rhythm. Kisa grinned as the girl frowned slightly and turned the page of the book once again. Today she was reading George Orwell’s Breath of Air. Her ashen hair seemed to fall over her shoulders. A dark T-shirt with short sleeves accentuated a fragile physique. Kisa often saw her reading and even, for the sake of curiosity, grabbed the same books as the object of his sigh, thus he hoped to intermarry with her. But as a rule, what Viktorovna read turned out to be too gloomy and the man could not understand what exactly attracted her in such literature. He wanted to ask her, but he knew that she would not answer honestly, because he was an ordinary gopnik from the district, a storm of law-abiding citizens.

— Good? Kisa chuckled smugly, as if it was his own merit.

— Yes, no, brother, not my taste, — Sudar said lost, turning away from his classmate. — Mouse.

— It’s in vain, — a friend broke into a smile. — A very good girl. It’s a pity we didn’t get along with her, — he softly banged his fist on the tabletop.

— Come on, those women worry about it, — Valera drank from the bottle. She’s grey, nothing.

— Brother, you look into the soul. She is beautiful with her, — Kisa sadly twisted the bottle by the neck. — If only she was happy.

The sir nodded in agreement with his friend. He knew that for some reason Mila meant a lot to his friend, but he did not understand. Although until the moment when Kisa fell in love with this gray Mouse, Valera admitted that he did not notice her presence in the classroom point-blank. She did not show herself in any way, in her studies she occupied the middle, without standing out in any way. Nothing much could be said about Mila. She had no friends and at the same time she did not conflict with anyone, she was simply lost in the general background. Unlike her grandmother, Galina Dmitrievna, who was a very lively and warlike old woman.

The well-fed grandfather had long since gone home, and Petrovich (or simply Valera-epta) reflected on the vicissitudes of fate, for the first time seriously thinking about Botan’s proposal. The treasure could help to get rich, and the grandfather could be thrown some money, and what the hell is not joking, all of a sudden a plus sign will be counted into karma. Kisa said that Fyodor Petrovich lives somewhere on the outskirts of their area and even knew exactly where. It would be possible to help.

Having gone to the men’s room, Kisa left Sudar alone with his bleak thoughts. The legend of the black “Volga” still seemed absurd, but the authority of the Karavaykins made itself felt. It is possible that the car was not so mythical. But the campaign would be illegal, it was obvious, and in which case they could well go to jail. This whole idea is very dangerous and can end up not just sideways, but with a real criminal term, here you won’t get off with a simple fine. Was it worth the risk? Yes, the devil knows. On the one hand, the general and the general’s wife Karavaykin never gave the impression of psychos, but the obsession in either the buried or simply hidden Volga somewhere near Pripyat sometimes argued the opposite. But all this faded into the background for a simple reason — if Botan was so sure that he was already gathering an expedition, then he got acquainted with all kinds of information and this whole idea was worth it. At least there was a real chance to find this ghost car. Andrei has always been too thoughtful, trying not to allow empty actions. Everything he did, he did for the sake of something, repulsing any effort expended with the result.

For all the reflections, Valera missed the moment of the beginning of the conflict.

— Leave me alone! — Oddly enough, girlish indignation was heard from a far corner. The sir did not even immediately recognize his classmate. The voice sounded too harsh, not typical. Although what should be considered typical, because the man did not know her at all, he only observed, like a shadow, a sitting student in the classroom, most often, she practically did not give a voice.

Turning around, Valera noticed how the trinity of offs got to the bottom of the girl. As a rule, these “comrades” hung out in the neighboring area, demanding “to explain about the gear” and often beat people. They behaved aggressively, provoking fights, not hesitating to pour out their aggression in a crowd on one, thus asserting themselves at the expense of the weak.

The mouse turned out to be not from the timid dozen, which pleasantly surprised the Sudar. While three big guys tried to drag her out from the table, the girl, as far as her fragile physique allowed, resisted, trying with all her might to fight off the “admirers” and attracting attention to herself to the maximum. But the people preferred to ignore it, poking at their smartphones and pretending to be deaf-blind-mute — it’s more convenient, because everyone hoped that someone else would help.

— What are you? Well, let’s see a movie, — insisted one of the most zealous.

Their faces were hidden by masks, windbreakers with a distinctive sign — a compass patch, which was the emblem of a well-known brand and at the same time was associated with the NATO military bloc. The nearest guy roughly grabbed the stubborn girl by the shoulder, clearly starting to lose patience.

— Hey ghoul, removed the claws! — Valera jumped up from the table, coming closer. — And as Sukhorukov said: “Here are freaks!”.

Taking advantage of the hitch, Mila wriggled out of the grip and, taking the bag, jumped aside. She looked at her classmate who came to her aid with wide eyes, not knowing whether to run or stay where she was. The sir, straightening his shoulders, boldly looked at the instigators of the conflict, preparing to fight back.

— Do not, — the girl turned to a classmate. “They provoke a fight.

— What kind of bastard is this? one of the officers intervened. Superiority was on their side, so they would have asked one company.

— Do not be afraid Viktorovna, I’ll just talk to them. In another week there will be no trace of the conversation left, — Sir turned the cap on his head with a visor back.

Mila nervously squeezed the belt of the bag so that her knuckles turned white, not knowing what to do — call for help, call the police… or just run away from here as quickly and as far as possible.

— Valera?! One of them suddenly rolled his eyes. — Valera, epta! This is the bastard who got in our way last time. Bring him down.

Three attacked one. In the heat of the fight, two tables were literally barbarously destroyed, with a dozen chairs and one coffee machine, which did not successfully tuck under the back of one of the officers. Kees, who came out of the toilet on time, immediately noticed a friend in the center of the brawl and, without finding out the reasons, rushed to help — he was not at all interested in the details of the conflict.

Mila stepped back in fear, not understanding how to stop the fight, feeling guilty for what had happened. The mall employees called the police. I must admit that the outfit arrived quickly. And just as quickly everyone was tied up and taken to the department to draw up a protocol. The guys were immediately sent to the “monkey house”, and Viktorovna, as the injured party or a witness (the junior lieutenant still needed to figure this out), was put on a chair in the office.

— Boss, let the girl go, she’s out of business, — Kisa insisted.

— Yes, commander, — Valera picked up, sitting behind bars.

— Let’s figure it out, — the police officer replied dryly and turned to Mila. — Full Name?

“Vyazemskaya Mila Viktorovna,” the girl answered, controlling herself and hiding the tremor in her voice. She folded her hands in front of her and Kisa noticed how her fingertips were trembling. He wanted to console her, calm her down, but he was afraid to blurt out too much.

— Tell me what happened?

Mila sighed frantically, nervously looking at her friends, who now, through her fault, fell under the distribution. Kitty smiled reassuringly, Valera twisted the rosary with interest, looking at the Mouse. Definitely in the last hour, the former classmate opened up a completely different side.

— Those three in masks started a conflict. One of them tried to forcibly take me outside, — the girl squared her shoulders. “I clearly said no, but they didn’t hear me. Guys, — she waved her hand towards Kisa and Valera. — Stand up for me. But offniki put up a fight.

— Who hit first? — said the policeman.

— Offs. One of them struck Valera in the face, — Mila looked back at the guys, as if looking for support.

— They answered and got into a fight? — the employee of the departmental service clarified again.

“They…” She paused, trying to remember what had happened and thinking about what to say.

— What were your actions at the time of the fight? — the junior lieutenant insisted, filling out the protocol.

— Commander, don’t worry. You see, she feels bad, overstressed, — Kisa intervened again.

Yes, talkers. We’ll get to you, — the law enforcement officer put down his pen and crossed his arms in front of him. “Do you think I forgot how you got away last time?”

“This has not been proven yet, commander,” Valera remarked calmly and walked closer to the grate, putting his hands on the bars.

— To hell with you, — the policeman grunted and turned to the girl. — Sign and you can be free.

Mila once again quickly re-read everything written from her words and put a modest signature.

“Viktorovna,” Valera called out to her.

The girl shuddered, looking at him in fear. A classmate pulled out a smartphone in his fingers and snorted, asked:

— Not in service, but in friendship. Botan was expecting me at seven tomorrow night. Go get the details.

“W-ok,” she nodded nervously.

— Mouse, don’t worry. Everything will be normal. Fifteen days will quickly pass, — Kisa smiled warmly, hoping to calm the girl down a little.

“Again, you don’t plan to pay the fine assholes,” the policeman suppressed a chuckle.

— Commander, where do we get the money from? — the gopniks pretended to ruffle.

— For what? Mila turned around, frowning. They didn’t provoke the fight.

— Administration for damage to property.

— How much is the fine? I’ll pay, — the girl resolutely reached into her bag for her wallet.

— No, no, commander, don’t listen to her. And as Kisa said: “From now on, everyone has their own right,” Valera replied sternly and crossed the Mouse’s indignant and full of righteous indignation. The heart skipped a beat. Alexa wouldn’t even offer to help, the thought raced through her mind. And this look… Viktorovna was devoid of indifference and any show. Sincere in your thoughts and actions. Valera noted that in one day he learned much more about the girl than in ten years of study at school, where he seemed to be watching her every single day.

The junior lieutenant was distracted, escorting Mila to the exit.

“Viktorovna, she’s good,” muttered the Sudar lostly, feeling an incomprehensible turmoil in his soul.

— And you still don’t know her very well, — Kisa leaned his forehead against the cool bars of the lattice. — Take a look.

— No, you che, brother — Valera shrugged his shoulders. — You, this, dry on her.

And it’s not mutual. But I will be glad to know that she is happy, — calmly remarked a friend, smiling sadly.

— And as Yashka the artilleryman said: “I don’t care to suffer or enjoy,” the Sudar said thoughtfully.

— CHAPTER 3-

GOING TO DEATH

— Tell me, can you eat Chernobyl apples?

— You can, just bury the bits deeper.

(folklore)

Kolya looked at Alexa with ill-concealed disgust. He hated all this “human garbage”, which he considered all unworthy people. And there were many unworthy ones. All these insignificant burners of their lives, who want to live for themselves, not striving to devote themselves to others. Those who did not support the ideas of Deaffather Kolya, by definition, became wrong and were eliminated as narrow-minded degenerate consumers who had no right to their miserable existence.

— There is nothing to look at me with the eyes of a spectacled cobra, — Alex pouted her puffed up lips. “You just don’t get normal chicks, and you hate me.

“You litter my brother’s brain,” Kolya grimaced contemptuously, considering it humiliating to talk to someone who does not have the right to be called a “woman”, because Alexia did not have a drop of mercy, compassion and sacrifice, and therefore had no right even to life.