Afterglow. The Justification of Chaos - стр. 17
I tightened my grip on Dort’s hoodie, holding him in place, and then I saw it…
It wasn’t violence in the usual sense. It was something far more sinister. Time seemed to slow, and every detail of the horrific scene seared into my vision.
There were two of them – just regular people, not patients from the third ward – disfigured, frenzied, rabid. They had attacked someone – a man or woman, it was impossible to tell now – and pinned them to the floor. Screams, inhuman shrieks. Words choked in a throat filling with blood. A dark pool spread across the marble under the body.
Everything blurred. Paralysis set in. Noise, chaos, panic erupted. People rushed toward the exits, trampling over one another, knocking others down, and crushing them underfoot. Screams, crashes, wailing. A horrible guttural growl echoed through the air. Then I realized there weren’t just two of them. My gaze caught more attacks in the crowd – new ones, and more still. The entire scene lasted mere seconds, though it felt like an eternity. A shop assistant nearby darted toward the door to shut it.
“No!” I shouted, trying to step back, but Sam stood frozen in place, pale as a sheet.
“Get inside or get out!” The girl screamed.
“Sam!” I shouted, shaking Dort hard. We bolted back.
What would have happened if we hadn’t gone back? If we’d hesitated for another moment? If we’d let panic drive us toward the staircase, into the city? What then?
The girl’s trembling hands managed to shut the doors. The sounds outside grew muffled… I stood there, staring blankly through the glass, watching as a group of people toppled a young man to the ground. They crowded around him, preventing any chance of escape. He flailed his arms, struggling to push them off, to get up. But they held him in a tight circle. Within seconds, his arm stiffened with convulsions.
The next moment, a man in shredded clothing slammed into the glass. My heart plummeted as I staggered backward. He turned awkwardly, his hands and face pressed against the glass. His lifeless, yellow-tinged eyes locked onto mine. Devoid of lips and cheeks, his jaw dropped to his neck, exposing his larynx.
A loud scream filled my ears, and I didn't immediately realize it was my scream. Everything went black in front of me, and I felt myself falling.
A dim sky, heat rising from the ground. Stifling. A flock of birds on the horizon. Screams. Rivers of blood, filled with snakes. Falling snow, spiraling down. A black sun, with an eye opening at its center. Columns. A forest. Damp earth underfoot. Graves. Givori. His bandaged arm. The bookstore.
And then a half-sigh, half-scream escaped my unconsciousness.
I jolted awake, gasping for air. My throat was dry, my chest felt like it was being crushed in a vice – breathing was unbearably hard, painful. My head throbbed, and my heart pounded violently against my ribs. Fear coursed through me, raw and unrelenting, brought on mercifully by nothing more than a dream.
A dream?
Sam, leaning over me and placing a finger to his lips. His frightened, red eyes. He was speaking a lot, quietly, and I couldn’t make out his words. Inside, everything felt cold, frozen, icy, but I could clearly feel that I was sweating terribly.
“Steph?” Sam whispered anxiously. “Are you okay? Oh heavens, you scared me so much!”