LET THE BEINGS WHO CALL THEMSELVES PEOPLE SAY:
In a world where only shadows live, The best way existence - to become one of them. In a world where shadows dictate the conditions of life, the best way to exist is to obey those conditions.
In a world where shadows are in illusions and believe in the onset of a bright future, believe.
LISTEN TO THE VOICE OF PURE REASON:
In a world where only shadows live, the best way to exist is to influence them.
In a world where shadows dictate the conditions of life, you must become their absolute masters, and let them become your slaves and slaves of your ideas.
In a world where shadows are in illusions and believe in the onset of a bright future, your destiny is to show them the path to hell.
The Last Testament. Book of the New World. A message to the born again. Art. 50
Ratcat stretched and, releasing his claws, yawned protractedly - showing his rare sharp teeth to the whole world. Herman shook off the remnants of his drowsiness, stood up and, stepping over the beast lounging on the concrete floor, went to the window. The rain refused to stop, although after two hours it had turned from a heavy downpour into a sticky gray drizzle.
Herman put on the hood of his jacket, designed to protect his head if there was any poisonous rubbish in the water falling from the sky. Now the chance of getting caught in “hot rain” is not as great as in old times, for example, immediately after finishing The last war, but who wants to risk their own hair and health? Herman was not at all happy to walk bald for the rest of his life, like Old Kra, who foolishly got caught in a “hot rain” about thirty years ago.
The old drunkard Kra looked extremely repulsive. However, Herman also saw in his life those (it’s hard to call them people) who had a live wormy mess moving on their heads instead of hair, like a ball of tiny snakes, ready at any moment to sting anyone who approached them. This is truly a disgusting sight.
“Perhaps we should sit in the shelter for another half an hour,” Herman muttered and, turning to the rat-cat, asked: “What are your thoughts on this, you stupid brute?”
Ratcat, as always, did not answer, he just twitched his tail. These are all sorts of crazy people, like Meganiks with their rabid religious fanaticism, are accustomed to thinking that any mutants (even if they are frog-mole) must necessarily speak and spread heresy among the clans. In fact, the rat cat was a completely harmless creature - he never got involved in religious disputes, and in general preferred good food to any communication. Simply put, the rat cat was an ordinary animal, not without, however, some innate talents. Judging by the wet footprints on the floor, while Herman was dozing, Wrath went for a walk. He was probably hunting howler monkeys again. I wonder how long he was gone?
Herman again went to the broken window and, pressing himself against the wall, looked out into the street. Opposite the house where he was hiding, there was a building with a collapsed dome - the City Central Station. Despite the middle of summer, it was cold like autumn, and the first threads of fog were already flickering in the twilight falling on the City. Fog is a constant problem in this part of the City. There is a river nearby, and more damp, muddy rubbish falls out of the underground than chewed bears and bearworms combined. Herman didn't like fog. The fog hides and deceives. It’s never clear what else might be hiding in it, waiting for you, ready to fall on your back as soon as you pass by.
Ratcat suddenly jumped up and pricked up his ears. Somewhere behind the station there was a barely audible hum of a monorail.
“The Meganiks are up to something again,” thought Herman, “in Lately there was no life left for them. No, it’s definitely time to get out of here before trouble comes for me.”
Herman felt very uncomfortable, which, however, is not surprising - this time he had gone too far from the territory of his native clan, and the Scavengers, to whom this area of the City belonged, did not particularly favor strangers. More precisely, they didn’t complain at all. And if a stranger has a bag full of seeds and root vegetables that he stole from their garden, then it’s a total disaster. If caught, best case scenario They'll finish you right away. And most likely, they will take them with them to underground holes and torture them there...
The sound of the monorail faded into the foggy distance. He should have left, but German couldn’t make up his mind. It would be dark in an hour and a half, and his mind told him that it was better to wait out the night here, on the top floor of a long-abandoned building. But my inner instinct suggested otherwise.
Herman looked out the window again. Nothing has changed - the grey, gloomy building of the Central Station, the asphalt wet from rain, the rusty carcass of a car, who knows how it ended up pressed against a curved lamppost. Everything was the same as before, only there was more fog, as if someone was urging it on. Something confused Herman. Something was wrong here...
“We’ll have to use the forbidden again,” thought Herman and cursed to himself.
He didn’t really like doing THIS, realizing to himself that it was wrong, and many in the Windblower clan did not tolerate anything forbidden. It’s not that they were at one with the Meganiks, and yet they had the most negative attitude towards the forbidden. Since childhood, German has been accustomed to hiding his special abilities, but how long can he hide the talent inside himself? Someday they will certainly find out and brand him a Universal or even worse - a mutant...
Herman sighed and, crouching near the wall, began scanning frequency after frequency, spectrum after spectrum. His thoughts wandered somewhere far away, and his eyes were completely empty. If someone had looked at Herman at that moment, he would have decided, despite the barely noticeable trembling of his fingers, that the man had left his body and gone for a walk somewhere.
This is true! The hunter's premonitions did not deceive him. Someone was hiding in the Central Station - he detected a barely perceptible rustle of heart rate on one of the frequencies. At least, Herman really hoped that this was a person, and not some kind of mutant. Human?! But what is he doing there? Hiding from the rain? Maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe it's one of the Meganiks from the monorail? Unlikely. These people never walk alone. Then who? Maybe the stranger is tracking him?
It's decided! He will leave immediately. German threw the bag onto his back, picked up the crossbow, stomped on the floor, calling for the rat cat - along with words, the animal also obeyed a special set of commands, consisting of only gestures, touches and, to a much lesser extent, words. Crouching down, Herman ran towards the stairs. I went down to the first floor. Then to the basement. A stranger is watching the exit, and through the basement window facing the opposite side of the Central Station, you can get out unnoticed. Herman threw a heavy bag out of the window, pulled himself up and climbed out onto the wet asphalt. Ratcat jumped, instantly being nearby. He was always there at the right time. A faithful companion, wordless and devoted, ready to grab the throat of any enemy who threatened the life of the owner. German touched Wrath behind the ear, and he squeaked barely audibly, rejoicing at the random affection of his owner.
Sf_action Alexey Pekhov Andrey Egorov The Last Testament
A terribly dynamic and fascinating post-apocalyptic novel. The announcement goes like this: “The familiar world no longer exists, there are only fragments of the past: deserted cities lying in ruins, mutant animals and people - disunited and broken. It is up to the Windblower clan scout German and Hospitaller Franz.
Ru Ego FB Tools, Fiction Book Designer 01/12/2006 http://www.fenzin.org BiblioNet & Aldebaran EGO-7A42-4FB5-A957-7D37AB7F9B11 1.0
v1.0 - creation of fb2 Ego
The Last Testament Armada, Alpha book Moscow 2003 5-93556-314-2
Alexey Pekhov and Andrey Egorov
The Last Testament
CHAPTER FIRST
LET THE BEINGS WHO CALL THEMSELVES PEOPLE SAY:
In a world where only shadows live, the best way to exist is to become one of them. In a world where shadows dictate the conditions of life, the best way to exist is to obey those conditions.
In a world where shadows are in illusions and believe in the onset of a bright future, believe.
LISTEN TO THE VOICE OF PURE REASON:
In a world where only shadows live, the best way to exist is to influence them.
In a world where shadows dictate the conditions of life, you must become their absolute masters, and let them become your slaves and slaves of your ideas.
In a world where shadows are in illusions and believe in the onset of a bright future, your destiny is to show them the path to hell.
The Last Testament. Book of the New World. A message to the born again. Art. 50
Ratcat stretched and, releasing his claws, yawned protractedly - showing his rare sharp teeth to the whole world. Herman shook off the remnants of his drowsiness, stood up and, stepping over the beast lounging on the concrete floor, went to the window. The rain refused to stop, although after two hours it had turned from a heavy downpour into a sticky gray drizzle.
Herman put on the hood of his jacket, designed to protect his head if there was any poisonous rubbish in the water falling from the sky. Now the chance of getting caught in the “hot rain” is not as great as in the old days, for example, immediately after the end of the Last War, but who wants to risk their own hair and health? Herman was not at all happy to walk bald for the rest of his life, like Old Kra, who foolishly got caught in a “hot rain” about thirty years ago.
The old drunkard Kra looked extremely repulsive. However, Herman also saw in his life those (it’s hard to call them people) who had a live wormy mess moving on their heads instead of hair, like a ball of tiny snakes, ready at any moment to sting anyone who approached them. This is truly a disgusting sight.
“Perhaps we should sit in the shelter for another half an hour,” Herman muttered and, turning to the rat-cat, asked: “What are your thoughts on this, you stupid brute?”
Ratcat, as always, did not answer, he just twitched his tail. These are all sorts of crazy people, like the Meganiks with their rabid religious fanaticism, who are used to thinking that any mutants (even if they are frog-moles) must necessarily speak and spread heresy among the clans. In fact, the rat cat was a completely harmless creature - he never got involved in religious disputes, and in general preferred good food to any communication. Simply put, the rat cat was an ordinary animal, not without, however, some innate talents. Judging by the wet footprints on the floor, while Herman was dozing, Wrath went for a walk. He was probably hunting howler monkeys again. I wonder how long he was gone?
Herman again went to the broken window and, pressing himself against the wall, looked out into the street. Opposite the house where he was hiding, there was a building with a collapsed dome - the City Central Station. Despite the middle of summer, it was cold like autumn, and the first threads of fog were already flickering in the twilight falling on the City. Fog is a constant problem in this part of the City. There is a river nearby, and more damp, muddy rubbish falls out of the underground than chewed bears and bearworms combined. Herman didn't like fog. The fog hides and deceives. It’s never clear what else might be hiding in it, waiting for you, ready to fall on your back as soon as you pass by.
Ratcat suddenly jumped up and pricked up his ears. Somewhere behind the station there was a barely audible hum of a monorail.
“Again the Meganiks are up to something,” thought Herman, “recently they have become extinct. No, it’s definitely time to get out of here before trouble comes for me.”
Herman felt very uncomfortable, which, however, is not surprising - this time he had gone too far from the territory of his native clan, and the Scavengers, to whom this area of the City belonged, did not particularly favor strangers. More precisely, they didn’t complain at all. And if a stranger has a bag full of seeds and root vegetables that he stole from their garden, then it’s a total disaster. If they catch him, at best they will kill him right away. And most likely, they will take them with them to underground holes and torture them there...
The sound of the monorail faded into the foggy distance. He should have left, but German couldn’t make up his mind. It would be dark in an hour and a half, and his mind told him that it was better to wait out the night here, on the top floor of a long-abandoned building. But my inner instinct suggested otherwise.
Herman looked out the window again. Nothing has changed - the grey, gloomy building of the Central Station, the asphalt wet from rain, the rusty carcass of a car, who knows how it ended up pressed against a curved lamppost. Everything was the same as before, only there was more fog, as if someone was urging it on. Something confused Herman. Something was wrong here...
“We’ll have to use the forbidden again,” thought Herman and cursed to himself.
He didn’t really like doing THIS, realizing to himself that it was wrong, and many in the Windblower clan did not tolerate anything forbidden. It’s not that they were at one with the Meganiks, and yet they had the most negative attitude towards the forbidden. Since childhood, German has been accustomed to hiding his special abilities, but how long can he hide the talent inside himself? Someday they will certainly find out and brand him a Universal or even worse - a mutant...
Herman sighed and, crouching near the wall, began scanning frequency after frequency, spectrum after spectrum. His thoughts wandered somewhere far away, and his eyes were completely empty. If someone had looked at Herman at that moment, he would have decided, despite the barely noticeable trembling of his fingers, that the man had left his body and gone for a walk somewhere.
CHAPTER FIRST
LET THE BEINGS WHO CALL THEMSELVES PEOPLE SAY:
In a world where only shadows live, the best way to exist is to become one of them. In a world where shadows dictate living conditions, the best
The way to exist is to submit to these conditions.
In a world where shadows are in illusions and believe in the onset of a bright future, believe.
LISTEN TO THE VOICE OF PURE REASON:
In a world where only shadows live, the best way to exist is to influence them.
In a world where shadows dictate the conditions of life, you must become their absolute masters, and let them become your slaves and slaves
Your ideas.
In a world where shadows are in illusions and believe in the onset of a bright future, your destiny is to show them the path to hell.
The Last Testament. Book of the New World. A message to the born again. Art. 50
Ratcat stretched and, releasing his claws, yawned protractedly - showing his rare sharp teeth to the whole world. Herman threw off the remnants of his drowsiness,
He stood up and, stepping over the beast lounging on the concrete floor, went to the window. The rain refused to stop, although after two
It took hours for the rain to turn from a heavy downpour into a sticky gray drizzle.
Herman put on the hood of his jacket, designed to protect his head if there was any poison in the water falling from the sky.
Rubbish. Now the chance of getting caught in a “hot rain” is not as great as in the old days, for example, immediately after the end of the Last War, but who
Do you want to risk your own hair and health? Herman was not at all happy to walk bald for the rest of his life, like Old Kra, who
Nonsense, I fell into a “hot rain” about thirty years ago.
The old drunkard Kra looked extremely repulsive. However, Herman saw such people in his life (I don’t dare call them
People) who had a live wormy mess moving on their heads instead of hair, like a ball of tiny snakes, ready to bite at any moment
Anyone who comes close to them. This is truly a disgusting sight.
“Perhaps we should sit in the shelter for another half an hour,” Herman muttered and, turning to the rat-cat, asked: “What are your
Thoughts on this, you stupid bastard?
Ratcat, as always, did not answer, he just twitched his tail. These are all sorts of crazy people, like the Meganiks with their rabid religious
By fanaticism, we are accustomed to thinking that any mutants (even if they are frog-moles) must speak and spread heresy among
Clans. In fact, the rat cat was a completely harmless creature - he never got involved in religious disputes, and in general he preferred any communication
Good food. Simply put, the rat cat was an ordinary animal, not without, however, some innate talents. Judging by the wet footprints
On the floor, while Herman was dozing, Wrath ran for a walk. He was probably hunting howler monkeys again. I wonder how long he was gone?
Herman again went to the broken window and, pressing himself against the wall, looked out into the street.
Alexey Pekhov, Andrey Egorov
The last testament
Chapter first
LET THE BEINGS WHO CALL THEMSELVES PEOPLE SAY:
In a world where only shadows live, the best way to exist is to become one of them. In a world where shadows dictate the conditions of life, the best way to exist is to obey those conditions.
In a world where shadows are in illusions and believe in the onset of a bright future, believe.
LISTEN TO THE VOICE OF PURE REASON:
In a world where only shadows live, the best way to exist is to influence them.
In a world where shadows dictate the conditions of life, you must become their absolute masters, and let them become your slaves and slaves of your ideas.
In a world where shadows are in illusions and believe in the onset of a bright future, your destiny is to show them the path to hell.
The Last Testament. Book of the New World. A message to the born again. Art. 50
Ratcat stretched and, releasing his claws, yawned protractedly - showing his rare sharp teeth to the whole world. Herman shook off the remnants of his drowsiness, stood up and, stepping over the beast lounging on the concrete floor, went to the window. The rain refused to stop, although after two hours it had turned from a heavy downpour into a sticky gray drizzle.
Herman put on the hood of his jacket, designed to protect his head if there was any poisonous rubbish in the water falling from the sky. Now the chance of getting caught in the “hot rain” is not as great as in the old days, for example, immediately after the end of the Last War, but who wants to risk their own hair and health? Herman was not at all happy to walk bald for the rest of his life, like Old Kra, who foolishly got caught in a “hot rain” about thirty years ago.
The old drunkard Kra looked extremely repulsive. However, Herman also saw in his life those (it’s hard to call them people) who had a live wormy mess moving on their heads instead of hair, like a ball of tiny snakes, ready at any moment to sting anyone who approached them. This is truly a disgusting sight.
“Perhaps we should sit in the shelter for another half an hour,” Herman muttered and, turning to the rat-cat, asked: “What are your thoughts on this, you stupid brute?”
Ratcat, as always, did not answer, he just twitched his tail. These are all sorts of crazy people, like the Meganiks with their rabid religious fanaticism, who are used to thinking that any mutants (even if they are frog-moles) must necessarily speak and spread heresy among the clans. In fact, the rat cat was a completely harmless creature - he never got involved in religious disputes, and in general preferred good food to any communication. Simply put, the rat cat was an ordinary animal, not without, however, some innate talents. Judging by the wet footprints on the floor, while Herman was dozing, Wrath went for a walk. He was probably hunting howler monkeys again. I wonder how long he was gone?
Herman again went to the broken window and, pressing himself against the wall, looked out into the street. Opposite the house where he was hiding, there was a building with a collapsed dome - the City Central Station. Despite the middle of summer, it was cold like autumn, and the first threads of fog were already flickering in the twilight falling on the City. Fog is an eternal problem in this part of the City. There is a river nearby, and more damp, muddy rubbish falls out of the underground than chewed bears and bearworms combined. Herman didn't like fog. The fog hides and deceives. It’s never clear what else might be hiding in it, waiting for you, ready to fall on your back as soon as you pass by.
Ratcat suddenly jumped up and pricked up his ears. Somewhere behind the station there was a barely audible hum of a monorail.
“Again the Meganiks are up to something,” thought Herman, “they’ve been dead lately. No, it’s definitely time to get out of here before trouble comes for me.”
Herman felt very uncomfortable, which, however, is not surprising - this time he had gone too far - from the territory of his native clan, and the Scavengers, to whom this area of the City belonged, did not particularly favor strangers. More precisely, they didn’t complain at all. And if a stranger has a bag full of seeds and root vegetables that he stole from their garden, then it’s a total disaster. If they catch him, at best they will kill him right away. And most likely, they will take them with them to underground holes and torture them there...
The sound of the monorail faded into the foggy distance. He should have left, but German couldn’t make up his mind. It would be dark in an hour and a half, and his mind told him that it was better to wait out the night here, on the top floor of a long-abandoned building. But my inner instinct suggested otherwise.
Herman looked out the window again. Nothing has changed - the grey, gloomy building of the Central Station, the asphalt wet from the rain, the rusty carcass of a car, who knows how it ended up pressed against a curved lamppost. Everything was the same as before, only there was more fog, as if someone was urging it on. Something confused Herman. Something was wrong here...
“We’ll have to use the forbidden again,” thought Herman and cursed to himself.
He didn’t really like doing THIS, realizing to himself that it was wrong, and many in the Windblower clan did not tolerate anything forbidden. It’s not that they were at one with the Meganiks, and yet they had the most negative attitude towards the forbidden. Since childhood, German has been accustomed to hiding his special abilities, but how long can he hide the talent inside himself? Someday they will certainly find out and brand him a Universal or even worse - a mutant...
Herman sighed and, crouching near the wall, began scanning frequency after frequency, spectrum after spectrum. His thoughts wandered somewhere far away, and his eyes were completely empty. If someone had looked at Herman at that moment, he would have decided, despite the barely noticeable trembling of his fingers, that the man had left his body and gone for a walk somewhere.
This is true! The hunter's premonitions did not deceive him. Someone was hiding in the Central Station - he detected a barely perceptible rustle of heart rate on one of the frequencies. At least, Herman really hoped that this was a person, and not some kind of mutant. Human?! But what is he doing there? Hiding from the rain? Maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe it's one of the Meganiks from the monorail? Unlikely. These people never walk alone. Then who? Maybe the stranger is tracking him?
It's decided! He will leave immediately. German threw the bag onto his back, picked up the crossbow, stomped on the floor, calling for the rat cat - along with words, the animal also obeyed a special set of commands, consisting of only gestures, touches and, to a much lesser extent, words. Crouching down, Herman ran towards the stairs. I went down to the first floor. Then to the basement. A stranger is watching the exit, and through the basement window facing the opposite side of the Central Station, you can get out unnoticed. Herman threw a heavy bag out of the window, pulled himself up and climbed out onto the wet asphalt. Ratcat jumped, instantly being nearby. He was always there at the right time. A faithful companion, wordless and devoted, ready to grab the throat of any enemy who threatened the life of the owner. German touched Wrath behind the ear, and he squeaked barely audibly, rejoicing at the random affection of his owner.
Herman chuckled. Let the one who watches him continue to be an eyesore. Only Herman is no longer there. If the guy realizes that he has been duped and follows, he can always use a crossbow.
“I won’t give up the loot,” thought Herman, “I’d rather die... Or even better, I’ll kill the one who’s watching me and see what’s in his pockets. Maybe there will be something valuable.”
Herman ran along the street slowly, crouching down, pressing against the walls of houses hanging over the asphalt cracked by time - he was afraid that someone or something might notice him and attack. Of course, running along the buildings is also dangerous: no one has repaired them since the Last War, sometimes a simple touch led to instant destruction. That week, for example, one of the skyscrapers collapsed in an area belonging to the friendly Bastion clan. Rumor has it that dozens of people died under its rubble. And the gaping holes in the windows can hide any abomination. Mutants tend to attack unexpectedly. And some walk so silently that even Old Kra, whose acute hearing was legendary, would not have heard them. It’s good if they turn out to be harmless howler monkeys - you don’t have to be afraid of them, but what if someone else is too toothy and voracious? In any case, walking along the houses is much safer than walking in the center of the street. It’s easier to immediately shout: “I’m here!”, attracting everyone’s and, in general, unnecessary attention.
Alexey Pekhov, Andrey Egorov
The last testament
Chapter first
LET THE BEINGS WHO CALL THEMSELVES PEOPLE SAY:
In a world where only shadows live, the best way to exist is to become one of them. In a world where shadows dictate the conditions of life, the best way to exist is to obey those conditions.
In a world where shadows are in illusions and believe in the onset of a bright future, believe.
LISTEN TO THE VOICE OF PURE REASON:
In a world where only shadows live, the best way to exist is to influence them.
In a world where shadows dictate the conditions of life, you must become their absolute masters, and let them become your slaves and slaves of your ideas.
In a world where shadows are in illusions and believe in the onset of a bright future, your destiny is to show them the path to hell.
The Last Testament. Book of the New World. A message to the born again. Art. 50
Ratcat stretched and, releasing his claws, yawned protractedly - showing his rare sharp teeth to the whole world. Herman shook off the remnants of his drowsiness, stood up and, stepping over the beast lounging on the concrete floor, went to the window. The rain refused to stop, although after two hours it had turned from a heavy downpour into a sticky gray drizzle.
Herman put on the hood of his jacket, designed to protect his head if there was any poisonous rubbish in the water falling from the sky. Now the chance of getting caught in the “hot rain” is not as great as in the old days, for example, immediately after the end of the Last War, but who wants to risk their own hair and health? Herman was not at all happy to walk bald for the rest of his life, like Old Kra, who foolishly got caught in a “hot rain” about thirty years ago.
The old drunkard Kra looked extremely repulsive. However, Herman also saw in his life those (it’s hard to call them people) who had a live wormy mess moving on their heads instead of hair, like a ball of tiny snakes, ready at any moment to sting anyone who approached them. This is truly a disgusting sight.
“Perhaps we should sit in the shelter for another half an hour,” Herman muttered and, turning to the rat-cat, asked: “What are your thoughts on this, you stupid brute?”
Ratcat, as always, did not answer, he just twitched his tail. These are all sorts of crazy people, like the Meganiks with their rabid religious fanaticism, who are used to thinking that any mutants (even if they are frog-moles) must necessarily speak and spread heresy among the clans. In fact, the rat cat was a completely harmless creature - he never got involved in religious disputes, and in general preferred good food to any communication. Simply put, the rat cat was an ordinary animal, not without, however, some innate talents. Judging by the wet footprints on the floor, while Herman was dozing, Wrath went for a walk. He was probably hunting howler monkeys again. I wonder how long he was gone?
Herman again went to the broken window and, pressing himself against the wall, looked out into the street. Opposite the house where he was hiding, there was a building with a collapsed dome - the City Central Station. Despite the middle of summer, it was cold like autumn, and the first threads of fog were already flickering in the twilight falling on the City. Fog is a constant problem in this part of the City. There is a river nearby, and more damp, muddy rubbish falls out of the underground than chewed bears and bearworms combined. Herman didn't like fog. The fog hides and deceives. It’s never clear what else might be hiding in it, waiting for you, ready to fall on your back as soon as you pass by.
Ratcat suddenly jumped up and pricked up his ears. Somewhere behind the station there was a barely audible hum of a monorail.
“The Meganiks are up to something again,” thought Herman, “and lately they’ve been dead. No, it’s definitely time to get out of here before trouble comes for me.”
Herman felt very uncomfortable, which, however, is not surprising - this time he had gone too far from the territory of his native clan, and the Scavengers, to whom this area of the City belonged, did not particularly favor strangers. More precisely, they didn’t complain at all. And if a stranger has a bag full of seeds and root vegetables that he stole from their garden, then it’s a total disaster. If they catch him, at best they will kill him right away. And most likely, they will take them with them to underground holes and torture them there...
The sound of the monorail faded into the foggy distance. He should have left, but German couldn’t make up his mind. It would be dark in an hour and a half, and his mind told him that it was better to wait out the night here, on the top floor of a long-abandoned building. But my inner instinct suggested otherwise.
The benefits of sunflower seeds for the heart, hair and nerves
Why do my legs give way at the knees?
Name energy: how the patronymic influences fate and the birth program Name patronymic meaning character
First Chinese Emperor
Alfred the Great: biography