Afterglow. The Justification of Chaos - стр. 2
The taste of ash on my lips. A hissing in my head. A black sun.
I fall to my knees, and then collapse into the snow.
The hot coffee burned my throat, and the warmth of the bitter drink spread through my body. I exhaled heavily, driving away the intrusive images of the night’s torment, and lifted my gaze to the sky, veiled with stormy gray-brown clouds. A chilly, pre-dawn gloom cloaked the world, and the gusty cold wind – so unusual for what I understood to be midsummer – offered little pleasure in being outside. In the Central Lands, summer is gentle and welcoming (though this year, the weather has been surprising with uncharacteristic fluctuations since spring); and in the Isthmus Region, where I was now, winds, it seemed, were a common thing.
I still couldn't fully realize that we had actually crossed the customs borders of the lands and passed through twenty-three checkpoints. My emotions urged me to look around, soak in the landscapes, and try to catch glimpses of the local culture. When else would I have a chance to escape the confines of restricted movement? But my rational mind stubbornly refused to view these new places through the lens of idle curiosity.
Firstly, the job wasn’t done yet. Secondly, while there was no doubt about the validity of the documents presented to customs officials and no questions were raised at any checkpoint, there was no guarantee that on the return trip the political investigators – the Reapers – wouldn’t take an interest in the name that had endorsed our papers. This wasn’t just playing with fire – it was an attempt to walk on a thread over the abyss.
The brewed coffee bean exuded a spicy aroma, and I suddenly thought that over the past few months, during which sleepless nights were consumed by black coffee and endless work, my body seemed to have absorbed too much of this bitter, smoky liquid, flowing through my veins instead of blood.
I tossed the empty paper cup into the trash, wanting to get back to the warm car as soon as possible, and, lifting the sleeve of my leather jacket, I glanced at my watch. Not even six yet.
Suddenly, in the distance above the houses, a flock of birds rose into the air, their sharp cries echoing through the surroundings. The silence of the early morning in the sparsely populated suburb only amplified their plaintive and anxious clamor, which resonated in a chorus of echoes among the houses and sent a gust of wind scattering leaves across the road.
A pang tugged at my heart, and for some reason, a spasm tightened my throat: it was as if all the doubts of the past days had collapsed onto my shoulders like an unbearable weight.
Such a long journey made, such a grave risk looming overhead like the tip of a sword; a misstep feels all too easy, unbearably dangerous. More dangerous than ever before.
Shivering slightly, I made my way toward the small white trailer.
“Let’s go,” I said to Andrew; he nodded, adjusted the collar of his bright orange shirt, and started the engine, “and take off those damn sunglasses! Where do you see any signs of the sun?”
“In the same place, where the meaning and practicality of this whole trip lie,” the man retorted, glancing at the rearview mirror, while I clicked my tongue and gave Andrew a condescending look. “You know, I won't stop repeating that this is a very risky undertaking. Fine, I won’t mention the documents for the customs officers that you dug up somewhere, thank the Mother Goddess, it all went smoothly. I won’t mention the seals on the papers and the signatures of, well, you know who… I won’t even say that after our last publications, we should really avoid showing our faces anywhere! We’ve always turned a blind eye to such trifles as keeping our lives safe, right?” he snorted, not hiding his sarcasm, “but do you really think we're going to find any meaningful or useful information here? In this ordinary, sparsely populated town in the Isthmus Region? The entire State is under a curfew, there’s a state of emergency in the East; and I’m not even talking about the completely closed roads, nor do I mention the widespread checks and extra social restrictions. And I won’t even bring up the tightening of control and surveillance, Steph! I won’t even utter a word about the completely closed Northern lands!” we were jolted slightly as the trailer hit the main road, “The place where we could actually get something useful from, they won’t let us through, not even if the very Heavens themselves decide to act as our protectors. And this is just one of the many border towns. Moreover, it's in the damn northern part of the Isthmus Region! Right next to the borders!”