Наталья Соколова – LIMBO (страница 5)

After the third portion of cocktail, the topics changed. Liz became curious if I had a boyfriend, and since I didn't – if I had ever had one.

"Yes, there was one guy," I answered as casually as possible. "We were friends since fifth grade. Everywhere together, we even agreed to go study at the Veterinary Academy for the same faculty. We spent the last six months preparing for admission – meeting at his place or mine – and poring over textbooks, every evening, no days off…"

"And did you get in?"

"Yeah. But in August, after all the exams, I saw him with another girl. At first, I thought: must be his sister. He'd said a relative from the south was supposed to visit them. And this girl was all tanned… But when they kissed, it dawned on me that she was no sister."

Throwing the empty can off the roof with a swing, I added bitterly:

"So maybe it's good that I didn't end up going to any vet academy, but moved here, far away from him."

"Strange you didn't cut that bastard," Liz darkly concluded. Her tongue was stumbling, but from her tone, I understood she wasn't joking or exaggerating. "Should've cut him!"

Then she complained to me for a long time about her boyfriends, of whom there turned out to be so many that by the end of her story, I was already confusing their names. She said she specifically sought out various freaks – each "prettier" than the last – to fray the nerves of her perpetually work-bound father, but it always ended up with them fraying her nerves, not his – they would mock her, "ghost" her, leave her heartbroken. It doesn't seem, though, that her self-esteem dropped after all these burns and breakups.

"You know what, I believe…" she suddenly said, leaning back and resting on her bent elbows. "I believe that somewhere out there, in the future, my person is waiting for me. Our paths are just tangled, but one day we'll definitely find each other… Well, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"When are you going to look for a new boyfriend? Just don't say you're planning to stay a maiden forever now!"

"How did you know that…?" I flushed hot. The cold air wafting from the distant river turned into molten lava.

"I can spot virgins from a hundred miles away," Liz shrugged. "They – I mean, you – have too much orange orgone."

"I don't…"

"Listen," the redhead interrupted me, fidgeting impatiently. "My Mom told me long ago that to find a truly worthy man – your kindred spirit, your 'twin flame' – you need to go out at night, in the last, darkest hour before dawn, find the morning star in the sky and make a wish on it! I've tried many times, but either it's cloudy in Petersburg, or there are white nights11, or Venus is in retrograde… In short, it never worked out, but now look how clear the sky is! We have a chance!"

Smiling, I quieted down and pretended to really be studying the stars, although I actually had no idea what Venus looked like or where to find it in the night sky. I'm not ready for a new relationship yet, so I'll probably just use the beautiful legend as an excuse to be silent. Besides, I was shamelessly drunk, and in such a state, it's better not to talk much, so as not to blush the next day.

At some point, it suddenly seemed to me that one of the stars near the horizon began to flicker more brightly. It filled with either pink or scarlet light. Blinked a couple of times. Expanded – or did my vision just go out of focus?.. And then it seemed to "swallow" me in a bright sparkling flash – and immediately went out.

My heart pounded faster. Where was it? Somewhere over there, by the spire of the Admiralty12, but now the sky in that direction is pitch-black. Empty.

No matter how much I searched again for the source of the raspberry light, no matter how much I turned my head right and left, I didn't find anything similar. For some reason, I felt anxious, even a little creepy.

"I have to go!" I blurted out, jumping up. Swayed. With a groan, I held onto the antenna on the roof.

"L… let me drive you to the dorm," Lizzy struggled to extract the Audi key fob from her leather jacket pocket – it got caught on the zipper and, pulling harder, she seemed to have torn off its ring.

"Uh, no, thanks," I squeezed out. "I'd rather walk. To get some fresh air."

My heart was beating like crazy. I was shivering. Zipping up my jacket to the very top, I headed in the direction where the bright star had recently been glowing with mystical light.

"Please, don't touch me!"

"'Please'? Ha! Magic words don't work here, baby!"

Oh, I should have accepted Lizzy's offer after all. Walking alone at night in an unfamiliar area of an unfamiliar city was clearly a bad idea. Or is that stupid Venus to blame? Well, it sure did set me up with a guy – or rather, four of them!

Spitting out his cigarette, a shaved thug got out of a rickety, completely tinted car to face me. Three of his cronies lowered the squeaky windows and, grinning, stared at me from inside. In the narrow alley between two old buildings, the path wouldn't allow us to pass without bumping shoulders. I stepped onto the road, hoping to quickly slip by, but baldy grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the car:

"Where are you rushing off to! Come on, I'll give you a ride!"

"No, thanks. I… get carsick," I blurted out.

Guffawing like a horse, he breathed a foul stench in my face and pressed me against the wall of an old brick house:

"Then let's do it here."

He's probably drunk, like me, only for him, it seems, this state has already become a habit. The bald man's head clearly wasn't spinning, and his brazen face easily read: "I'll do whatever I want with you, and nothing will happen to me for it."

"Get your hands off!" I shouted to attract someone's attention. Alas, useless. The windows of the residential building didn't face the alley, and there were no passersby at such a late hour anyway.

"Don't yell, you idiot!" the pupils of his bulging eyes unnaturally narrowed with anger. Or maybe he's not drunk, but high?

"Let go!" I tried to wrench free, but our struggle was short-lived. Baldy clicked the blade of a folding knife and put the tip to my throat. Now it was scary to even breathe, let alone move.

Well, that's it. How many times in my dreams did I save the world from people like him and his friends, but now there's no one to come to my own rescue. I shouldn't have gone anywhere at nightfall with that Liz. I should have just gone to bed!

A sweaty hand went under my skirt. Scratching me with a hangnail, it squeezed my thigh. Dirty fingers reached higher. I wanted to scream, but no, I can't scream, or he'll slit my throat. This one, judging by his eyes, is out of his mind – he might do it.

The asphalt under my feet went wavy and flowed, like heated air. Everything became somehow unreal.

"Is this your girlfriend?" suddenly came from behind our backs.

The hand with the knife eased its pressure slightly, and I was able to turn my head. In the unlit end of the alley stood a person in black. The face was impossible to make out in the darkness – only the outline of a silhouette. Tall, shoulders not very broad, but standing out against the athletic narrow waist. Something resembling a rifle – or even an automatic weapon – hangs diagonally behind his back. Could it be a policeman?! Or maybe a soldier? A SWAT officer? Well, or at least an athlete?..

Thoughts raced quickly through my head. But what difference does it make, really! Whoever he is, the main thing is that he's armed, which means he'll save me! My heart beat joyfully in my chest, my knees trembled from the weakness that came over me.

"Are you dating?" the night passerby insistently repeated his question.

Baldy again didn't answer. Just a few seconds of silence was all the dark figure needed to correctly assess the situation. Or did he finally notice the knife?

The person stepped out of the shadows into the lamplight. With an artistic hand wearing a silver signet ring, he adjusted on his shoulder… no, not a rifle, but just a violin case.

A sigh of disappointment escaped from my chest. Damn! Now everything is definitely lost!

"I'm not with them…" I whispered with just my lips and indicated with my eyes toward the car, not really hoping, however, that one refined musician could cope with four deranged bandits.

"I see," his voice sounded calm and imperturbable. Even, as it might seem, with a note of boredom. "Listen, I advise you to let her go. Don't risk it. Leave."

Dark brown eyes seemed black in the gloom. Long ashen hair was tied back in a ponytail, revealing shaved temples. A black fitted jacket. The collar of a black shirt was cinched with a black tie, over which hung a silver chain. An earring or even a couple in his ear – one ring above another. How old is he?.. He's clean-shaven, so it's hard to tell his age. Maybe around twenty.

Yes, definitely. Probably some kind of elegant Petersburg student-nerd. Heading out early for classes at a music college or institute. Heading out, but won't make it… Now I became scared for him too, prickly goosebumps ran down my spine.

It suddenly got colder. The rising wind drove a heap of brown, already autumn-dried leaves to our feet. Far behind the houses, in the east – where the first strip of dawn appeared – thunder grumbled discontentedly.