The car was dark, and the smell of tobacco and cheap air fresheners filled my nose. Alexander tried to clear his throat, regaining his breath after the blow. His hands were free, but he felt his shoulders being squeezed by strong hands. The men who had kidnapped him sat on either side of him.
Alexander tried to look at the faces of his captors, but the faint light coming through the tinted glass was not enough to see anything other than silhouettes. The driver, meanwhile, silently focused on the road, only from time to time casting quick glances at Alexander through the rearview mirror.
- Who you are? - Alexander dared to ask, trying to at least sit down normally. - What do you want from me?
The men didn't answer. One of them, the one sitting on the right, checked Alexander’s pockets, taking his passport and lighter, but threw the broken phone out the window, which he immediately closed.
- No one has ever left the Twilight. - one of them finally said, with a rough accent. His voice was deep and hoarse, as if from years of smoking.
Alexander's heart began to beat even faster. The meeting he was trying to avoid seemed to overtake him on its own. He tried to figure out what he might know or have that a certain Dusk was so interested in, but he had no memories that could give any clue.
- You understand that I don’t remember anything, right? - he asked.. - I don’t know what Dusk might want from me.
The men chuckled, but did not say another word, continuing to silently squeeze his shoulders in time with the movement of the car. All Alexander could do was wait and hope that a conversation with the bandit leader would somehow clarify the situation in which he found himself. Thoughts swirled in his head about possible ways of escape or self-defense, but the reality of his situation made them increasingly desperate and impracticable.
Through the tinted windows of the car, the guy saw that they were driving into some kind of industrial zone. The car turned and he saw the factory building. The territory to which Alexander was brought seemed abandoned: rusty structures, broken windows, walls covered with graffiti. A row of cars was visible, and the one in which the guy was being transported pulled up. He was quickly taken out into the air and taken to the nearest hangar, where he was made to kneel.
Alexander looked up and saw that he was in some kind of workshop, and five men stood in front of him. Everyone looked depressing. In the center stood Dusk, who towered above the others and there was no doubt that he was the leader of the gang.
This man was tall, with heavy features and cold, calculating eyes. His short hair was neatly trimmed, and his face bore several scars, each of which likely had its own history.
“So, what do we have here,” Dusk began, his voice sounded as if he was enjoying every word, “the police colonel is sending me to take care of a lost sheep.” Unexpected, right?
He stopped, as if expecting an answer, but when Alexander remained silent, Dusk grinned.
- You don't remember who you are, do you? - he continued. -You don’t remember what you did? Berezov... He is very interested in your... knowledge. In your information that you may have. But for some reason you decided to play amnesia, as I heard. But you know, I don't give a fuck.
At Dusk’s words, the men around laughed. Alexander raised his head.
“I really don’t remember anything,” he said, looking Dusk straight in the eye. - I don't know what information I might have, or why I surrendered to you.
Dusk came closer, leaned down so that their faces were on the same level. Alexander felt his breath, smelling of tobacco and coffee.
“That’s the thing, Alexander,” Dusk said quietly. - I don’t care whether you have a memory or not. For what you did, you will die anyway.
Dusk straightened up and nodded to the two bulky men standing behind Alexander. They began to beat the guy in the face and liver. After a couple of blows, they raised the fallen young man, who could hardly raise his head. At this moment, Alexander felt the cold metal of the pistol barrel pressed to his forehead, and the eyes of Twilight, blazing with rage and hatred.
- Did you think you could leave us so easily, Sasha? - Dusk began, his voice was calm, but every word was released like a poisoned arrow. - You killed our comrades, my friends. I knew them, I even sat with some of them. You destroyed our business. Who do you think you are?
Dusk leaned in, his face so close that Alexander could see the veins pulsating in his neck.
“And it wasn’t enough for you to take their lives, you set the regional people against us.” Because of you, many guys are now behind bars, but you weren’t even touched. And I went nuts when the colonel called me and said that you had been released.
Dusk straightened up and took a step back, his eyes constantly looking at Alexander. At this moment, the two guys who were holding him started beating him again. The blows rained down one after another, piercing pain engulfed Alexander’s entire body. When the blows stopped, Alexander lay helpless, his consciousness slowly floating into the darkness. At the last moment he heard:
- For the right guys who are lying in the ground and behind bars because of you.
The shot rang out and everything went dark.
A little time passed while Alexander fell into the void, but then he felt the hardness of the stone beneath him. His consciousness connected with the space of the Edge. He stood on the ledge of a huge mountain overlooking an unknown landscape. Around him there was no longer that buried temple; now the space opened up vast expanses where the mountains met the sky.
The mountain below him was monumental. Its slopes sank into abysses, lost in the fog, and the top seemed to pierce the sky itself, making one wonder if it led to infinity. The ledge on which he stood was surrounded by vortices the color of malachite and sapphire, air currents shimmering in all shades of blue and green. These colors played on the stones, making the scene almost unreal, as if he was standing on the threshold of a dream world. In the distance, along the slopes and ledges, shadows and silhouettes moved.
Alexander heard two male voices behind him, their timbres died in the air for a moment before he could recognize them. One was unmistakably familiar - rough and cold, it belonged to the man who forced him into the car. They discussed where they would take his body, looking at different places to get rid of the "problem".
The words became clearer and Alexander turned around to see the source of the sound. Behind him, a glowing portal pulsed. It was extraordinarily bright, with waves of energy that sparkled and sparkled, creating many shades of blue and white. This portal vibrated in time with the voices, as if tuned to their frequency, and Alexander realized that this was a transition back to the real world. In confirmation, nearby lights smoldered from the tops of the pyramids, whose smoke stretched in a thin line towards the tunnel.
The voices continued, discussing details, talking about time and place, planning what to do next. This gave Alexander the information he needed, but also filled him with determination. He couldn't let these people think they had won.
With this thought, he approached the portal. Each step created a vibration that matched his determination. When he touched the sparkling surface, he felt his essence merge with the energy of the place, and in the next moment, the world around him became distorted and he walked through a white tunnel, still hearing voices. Only when he reached the end did he stop, waiting. Alexander had suspicions that he could die again as soon as he fell into reality, which means that his killers needed to not know that he could be resurrected.
As soon as the voices became barely audible, Alexander realized that this was his moment. His body twitched and taking a step, he inhaled the musty air of an abandoned factory. He knew he had an advantage that had never been given to him before - the element of surprise. The body ached mercilessly, but it was impossible to make a sound. Having carefully felt himself, he realized that the hole in his forehead was still there and was bleeding slightly, there were bruises from the beatings, but he was alive and it was strange. But there was no time to think about it.
Stolen novel; please report.
Alexander slowly rose to his feet and carefully walked in the direction of the voices, trying to make as little noise as possible. Shadows shrouded the plant area, and the low lighting created ideal conditions for a stealthy approach. He saw two men standing with their backs to him near the open trunk of a car, probably discussing where to put his body.
Alexander noticed a heavy metal rod next to him, probably left behind by the workers. It was the perfect tool for his plan. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he gathered his courage, took the rod and, getting as close as possible, hit the first man hard on the back of the head. He fell to the ground with a dull sound, killed by one blow. The second man turned around sharply, but did not have time to react. Alexander struck him too, sending him flying next to his accomplice. The latter was still alive and here he had to decide for himself: “Kill or leave.”
- They won’t lag behind... Well, I can’t take a life... Or can I? - the moral side of the issue pressed, but not in such a way as to make you doubt your actions. A sharp blow and life ended. He was about to move on when he realized one thing. - They will be resurrected and, just like me, they can stab in the back. This cannot be allowed.
His gaze involuntarily turned to the back of one of the bandits. For some reason, he was sure that what he had planned would definitely deprive the enemy of the ability to move. A couple of blows just above the coccyx with the disgusting sound of crushed vertebrae, it was assumed that would at least ensure non-functioning legs, and at most send me to the next world again from shock. Alexander decided to search them.
In the pocket of one of the men there were car keys, a knife with a black handle, whose blade sparkled with a cold sheen, and a small package of white powder - probably drugs. In another pocket there was a black wallet that contained several bills, a plastic card, photographs of a woman and a small child, as well as documents addressed to Sergei Pavlovich Kudryavtsev.
Another man had several packs of cigarettes, a lighter, a mobile phone and a pistol with one clip in his pocket. He also had a wallet, where, in addition to money and cards, there was a card in the name “Anton Yaroslavovich Grebennikov.”
Taking the car keys, cash, mobile phone, a knife with a black handle and a pistol, which immediately fit into his hand as if it were his own, Alexander headed to the car. Now his plan was simple - get out of the city while he can. Once in the car, the guy froze, realizing that he did not know how to drive a car. Cursing loudly, he leaned back in his chair, not knowing what to do next. Deciding to look around, the young man noticed that on the front seat was a laptop packed in a black bag. Alexander decided to turn it on, hoping to find some useful information on it. The screen lit up, showing the desktop without a password. There were several folders with documents and photographs. The content of the information directly indicated that the data was intended for a narrow circle of people.
- Damn. Information is, of course, good, but not when it is not needed. - Alexander thought about it, assessing the risks, after which he took out the captured phone. By pressing the lock button, the screen came to life without asking for a password, which was unusual for such a device. Most likely, the bandits did not expect that someone else would use their personal belongings. There were several notifications on the screen about missed calls and messages.
Alexander carefully clicked on the messages icon, and a correspondence opened in front of him, full of unfamiliar names and terms, but generally confirming his assumption about the criminal activities of the phone owners. There were mentions of delivery, payment, and meeting places. But more importantly, the correspondence mentioned Dusk and the "right hand", apparently key figures in their organization.
Now, holding the phone in his hand, Alexander felt even more confused. On the one hand, he could use the information on the phone and laptop to his advantage, perhaps even for blackmail or protection. On the other hand, this made him an even more dangerous target for bandits, especially if they discovered that their comrades were dead and their belongings missing.
- But what else can they do? I have already been killed more than once. - the guy remembered the accident and the incident in the hospital.
Having looked at the car, he understood that without the ability to drive he would not be able to get into the city. His gaze fell on the GPS navigator. He could try to use it to at least determine his current location and find the nearest police station or some safe place. At the same time, he understood that contacting the police could lead to even bigger problems, especially considering Berezov and the things that were now with him.
Alexander had two paths and both were difficult to implement. Now that the bandits thought he was dead, he could finally get home, clean up, change clothes and cover up the hole in his head. Maybe even find something from the past that will shed light on all this chaos. On the other hand, he could go to Roman and finally forget about this city and the people who are trying to kill him. But the problem was that he didn’t know how to drive, and as he was now, he would definitely attract attention if he took public transport.
Alexander sat in the car, staring at the phone screen. He understood that he alone could not figure it all out, and he needed help. His thoughts went back to Roman, the only person he could trust. Roman was also young, which meant he understood technology, which he needed now.
Alexander dialed Roman's number on the phone. The ringing tone sounded like an eternity before the friend answered.
- One more example, Roman, it’s me, Alexander. “I’m in big trouble, and I need your help,” Alexander’s voice was tense, but he tried to speak calmly.
Roman instantly sensed the seriousness of the situation, his voice became more focused:
- And you know how to get into trouble more often than I do, Alex. Come on, what do you have there?
Alexander briefly recounted the events of the last hours, describing the clash with the bandits, the murder, the information he found, and his reluctance to carry around with a laptop in a city where they were actively trying to kill him and even succeeded in doing so a couple of times.
“Okay, I got it,” Roman answered, “first of all, you need to send me all the data from the laptop.” Make an archive with the files and send it to my email. Do you have Internet access?
“Yes, it seems there is,” Alexander checked and saw that the laptop had automatically connected to the Wi-Fi network distribution from the phone on which he was now speaking.
- Okay, then go to your browser and open the website protonmail.com. Register an account there, it is an anonymous and secure email service. From there you can send the files to my mailbox. I'll send you my details via message so you know where to send. Just make sure you forward everything that seems important. The phone is a little more difficult, but we can do a couple of tricks here, so listen and do what I say. - Roman instructed.
As a result, he spent five minutes, after which everything that was valuable in terms of information was sent to Roman.
- Data sent. - Alexander said, feeling as if part of the burden had lifted slightly from his shoulders, - I need to get away from here. Can I come to your place? Could you give me the exact address?
- Come. But we must be careful. I live on Lenin Street, building 25, apartment 73. And Sasha, try not to attract attention. It's night now, there shouldn't be any problems.
“Thank you, Roma, thank you,” Alexander said with relief in his voice, “I’ll be as careful as possible.” I'll see you soon.
Alexander flinched slightly when he heard a piercing scream coming from the darkness of the street. It was a cry full of agony, despair and unbearable pain. His heart sank when he realized that one of the bandits he had left on the asphalt had returned to life.