LONER IN THE RUSH HOUR CROWD. I AM GOING TO KILL

Alexander Cherenov

This book is a psychological detective story. The hero eliminates evil in a classical way: by eliminating its carriers. The objects of his work are modern «masters of life» (nouveau riche, multimillionaires from yesterday’s ignoramuses, criminals and speculators) and and their henchmen. They are an obstacle on the way of a person to worthy life, and therefore the hero resorts to extreme methods of «re-education». Maybe this is the only sure way to establish the «kingdom of God» on Earth?!

Chapter two

…I see him from the window of his apartment. His is the arrogant master of arrogant «Lexus». Auto divides the footpath in two. They with master do not confused by mothers with strollers, old women with their sticks and children with dogs. No, it might be embarrassed, but the owner does not allow it. Nothing bothers him: he is the master of life. At a minimum, declares itself as such. I see it not the first day — and it is not the first day that it accelerates with its «automonster» pedestrians — «violators of traffic rules on footpaths». Several people, who tried to stand up for the status of the pedestrian walkway, received an immediate failure: they were beat out.

Thus, the issue of re-education is no longer necessary, neither in front of me, nor in front of the «object of work». This is no longer amenable to treatment with therapeutic agents: «surgery» is needed here, radical «surgery». By his dishonest deeds, «this» honestly deserved the rank of «client». And, «means to us — there is a road!» as one comrade said.

I calmly dress and leave the house. A couple of minutes, not more, left me before meeting. Him — too. But, unlike me — not only see me: until the «twelfth strike».

«Hello.»

I am extremely polite. I am not even embarrassed by the fact, that I deserve only a quarter of a full look. The text, of course, and should not wait: I cannot wait. If I wait, it’s not the one that the average citizen is expecting in response to his greeting.

«Tell me, please, haven’t you seen the sign „Passage prohibited“?»

Paradox, but before the «entrance» to the footpath really hung up «brick»! As if it is already unclear, that the footpath is not a continuation of the highway! What pedestrians walk on it, not cars! At least, must walk!

The «master of life» changes slightly in the face, but only so that the next one in the queue for the change would be me.

«What did you said?!»

Even «gold-rimmed glasses» do not save me from the «noble» contempt. The owner — both life and jeep — opens the door. He clearly intends to teach me a «lesson of life». It is possible, that the last in life. The complex allows him not only to hope, but also to count on it: a man is a head taller than me and half a cube thicker.

But he is mistaken — both in intentions and in calculations, exclusively in his own. Because «giving a lesson» is my role. Even if after this lesson life is no longer necessary for him. He, of course, is not against living yet, but I am already opposing his desire. Not «on behalf of»: «for the sake of life on earth!» I am not confused by the installation on the weaning for the sake of life, because it will not be better, because it will be better for all of us — without him. And although I act from myself and for myself, I am sure that my subjective desire coincides with the objective needs of society. And, therefore, I do not transgress: I am glad!

«Well, you…»

I immediately find out «everything about myself». I learn through the «digest» using local idiomatic expressions. On the second, the fists, «equipped» with the mount, are clearly «served» with steel mount. «Comrade» already understood everything and decided to «urgently correct» — by «correcting me».

I unclasp my hand. Quickly unclasp: there is no time to become a hero. The eye of the «master» slips into, what I have in my hand. In the next moment, his muzzy face breaks into a smile. He laughs: I have a small folding knife in my hand. This is against his mount and the muzzle, which fears the mount?

He swings at me quickly and not to scare me. Not to drive me away like an annoying fly: the guy obviously prefers words to words. Such a thing, that he used to bring to the end, ntil the end of people like me. Therefore, the «fly» is destined to not be driven away, and swatted.

But he again makes a mistake, already the second one in such a short time. I am not as defenseless as he would like. And yet I am not going to play the role assigned to me: either hit the run or hit the curb after the blow struck me. And I’m not going to join the discussion: the eternal mistake of our brother-intellectual.

Instead, I press one small button — and from a small handle of a small, supposedly folding knife, like a lightning, a small, only a few centimeters, blade flies out. That’s right: crashes, like bullet from the barrel of a pistol. And since I am aiming at the «master» in the eye, it means «there is a way for us there!»

The exchange of roles is made: my failed «murderer» took place as a victim. «Getting in the eye», he returns to the driver’s seat. But already back and cross. And in an optimized form: he definitely does not have one eye. A small blade hits with terrible force. Both of them — both the blades and his strength — are enough to work out not only the eye, but also the brain. «Rear view» is not available to me, but I have no doubt, that a few millimeters of the blade «enliven the landscape». And I do not guess, but I know: I tested it on metal and wooden objects, so to say, «conducted tests on the bench».

But the second eye can even be surprised. This remark is not to the issue of pathology: just a «protocol for inspecting the scene of the incident». For a moment, I even wonder if I hurried with conclusions. Well, in terms of the «final solution of the issue». After all, a person who is able to be surprised is not yet a goner! But next the moment we leave each other in doubt. First, the counterpart’s surprise is peculiar: only that he was in my place. After all, it was me who now had to revive — or deaden — the landscape with my «presence-absence». Secondly, the not-yet-finished man was already… a washed-up man. More precisely: finished off by me personally. Yes, and as a man, he ended long before his end. And, maybe, he did not start at all. And if so, then so be it! In the sense of: not to be him. And if they were to be only the former!

I look around. Not spy: not before the movie. I’m visibly nervous. Not because of the act of optimization: the situation and does not claim the status of «and the bloody boys in his eyes». I am nervous for another reason: our street is not at all quiet, because it is not a street, but the central street. But I am lucky: as ordered, the street works off the street. Along the line of living souls: none in sight. I hope that I am «out of the field». This is not for long, but enough for me to «get out of the battle without a loss». I am lucky. Although why is it «lucky»? Why should it be the other way around? After all, «the opposite» — and so is my daily «modus vivendi».

Just in case I mow my eyes round and in all directions. There is no one here. It probably happens, that way because there is. But, «however» — it’s time: a chance «light up» is ready to give himself at any time and not at my disposal. Therefore, I do not think long. Already at the moment of departure I was visited by the thought: would you let me know? Do not draw with blood the «victim of the attack of the unknown» sign «brick» on the windshield? Well, to understand and think?

But the next moment, this thought is «driven over» by another: what if they understand more than I would like? That is, they guess, that this is the work of a local comrade? Simple logic: what is the business of the «transit passenger» to the «alien scoundrel»? There are his own scoundrels on the «transit»! So, «the soul of the poet did not endure… according to his place of residence»?! Here, and it will turn out: instead of trying to instill in fear potential offenders, I will instill myself by giving trail to «comrades from the regional administration»! Of course, I really want to sensitize them, but it is better, though, to enlighten oneself.

And I do so: immediately, albeit slowly, I appeal in a passerby. One thing is done — and now I have to do another: to comprehend what has been done. No, better, like this: «done»! And there is something to comprehend: the first thing. I don’t want to remember a soldier who mourns his first victim, but even a soldier cannot remain indifferent, even a soldier who is «state-wise»! What to speak for us, civilians?

I go home and indulge in thinking. No, I do not «lay wreaths on the grave». The «untimely fallen» fell even at the wrong time, but with an obvious delay. According to merit, he would have long since grown into worms: no good. Therefore, my thoughts are «on the other side»: «what to do?» Not in the sense of «run or stay?». On the contrary: the question is global. Like Chernyshevsky in the novel. I took the first step — do I need to do the next? After all, the first step was from the category of «soul beautiful impulses». Should I move to another category — that’s the question! Whether to put work with the client on the stream or limit to what is called «according to the situation»? And, can, be limited to already made good?

First you need to deal with sensations. What are they: satisfaction? Fear? Decay? Elevated lift? Perhaps, a bit of everything. But the «root» is the rise: the rest are «bind». I feel good, not because they haven’t caught them yet: because there has been less of one rascal. Because I did a good deed. I do not know the details of the traffic violator, but I know that he deserved his fate of my client.

It takes about ten minutes — and here, the first passer-by. Now you can: I have already «retired to the prepared lines». «The First» behaves «in accordance with the instructions»: «I see nothing, hear nothing, know nothing, say nothing to anyone». He fearfully mows his eyes at the «still life», looks around and «gives the go»! Correctly does. That’s right: and mows, and looks around, and gives. Because, God forbid, they will notice… what he noticed. After all, then «involve and embrace». «Involve» by dragging, and «embrace» from all sides not only with your hands. It’s very simply for us go to category from witnesses go to category of suspects and accused.

But fools do not sow and do not reap. For ten smart there is always one… «other.» It is now. This «eleventh» — well, ten smart plus he — climbs into the car, in the American manner pokes his fingers into the client’s carotid artery, and raises the alarm. Simply put: hi. Several people come running (much more scattering — and in all directions). A group of three fools — all the clever have already dispersed — is harassed by the police, and she succeeds. As far as I understand facial expressions, the police only record what they have nothing to fix — in addition to the «body in the range». Fools are «drawn and embraced», but foolishly they still do not understand this. Understanding will come to them later — together with a «group of comrades» with improvised means «in the department» already there.

And now they are overwhelmed with a sense of pride in the consciousness of their duty. Soon, other feelings will overwhelm them — at least, two of these social activists will never again succumb to the «call of the heart». An excess of feelings will fill the lack of brains and all together they will give birth to the thought: «Do not go where you don’t ask! And even ask — do not go!»

On this day, I no longer see the permanent «garage owners» in our walkway. Perhaps, they are discouraged by a fresh spot on asphalt. Not even one spot, but several: the client leaked through all the holes, both natural and additionally arranged by me. Only one person lonely draws circles at the scene: investigator. Judging by the fact that he is alone, I make the only correct conclusion: a comrade was thrown «under the tank». And this means, that the case has already been recognized as having no prospects — and the comrade simply «works for volume»: collects waste paper. And this already means, that I can calm down completely, and even before the investigator write off the file to the archive of my memory.

But this does not cancel thoughts on Chernyshevsky: «What to do?» Restrict local success or step on the slippery slope of the struggle for justice? Stepping on her, I should be aware, that I will have to work as a scout behind enemy lines: only aliens are around. And my next step may be the last. But «you cannot shoot all»! This audience grows like toadstools: it is not necessary to cultivate. Maybe you should not burden yourself with routine tasks, even more so with taking higher obligations? Wouldn’t it be better to limit oneself to work «according to the situation», when there will be no patience, no other way out, except for going out to the business and to the client? I’m not a «conscious fighter for the cause of the revolution»: I’m just a partial person…