CHAPTER 4.
One of the radio programs broadcast over loudspeakers in central squares.
"Moscow Speaks!
On May fourteenth, 2028, a new, ultra-modern mechanical laptechnology factory was inaugurated in the scarcely-known city of Dmitriymedvedevsk. The weaving factory is equipped with hypernova equipment and accommodates 12 manufactory combinations. The production capacity of each combine allows producing up to three hundred pairs of clogs per year. This is a new word in domestic import substitution.
Now to the news of science: Skolkovo Institute of Science and Technology began to develop a new hypersupernanosonic mega-nuclear missile. The development of the project is estimated at $48 trillion. In this connection, the Russian government is forced to resort to unpopular measures. The Federation Council decided: from June 1, 2028, VAT will increase to 86%.
"Accept this with understanding." - said the leader of the nation."
All night long Egor hid in a pile of weeds, listening and praying frantically. He is shuddered with his whole body as the night birds screamed somewhere. There were no more shots fired in the village, but a few screams came from there at night. After each one, Egor began to shake. Once he even broke out to run, but tripped on some log and fell painfully. When the horizon began to brighten, Egor wandered toward the track. The dry grass under his feet crunched treacherously, and from time to time Egor stopped and listened. He had never been as scared as he had been last night. Yes, Egor was used to people dying like flies all around him, but it was usually the scrappers who died - they had to. The priest at church explained to Egor that it was their fate. But for a Coksuck to die like that... First Yashka shot himself, then his unit got into a meat grinder. I wonder how many brothers managed to escape? Who would have thought it would turn out like this? Someone must have put a curse on the squad. Oh, we should have gone to church before the raid, to bless the priest, and sprinkled holy water on the bus...
At dawn the Coksuck reached the highway and hid in the roadside bushes. The predawn silence was cut by the long mournful howl - the signal of the air-raid alarm. Well, it was time to get up for work. The whistle woke the whole world, wiped sleepiness from Egor, crows cawed somewhere in the distance. His stomach rumbled - he wanted to eat. Egor had coupons for dried grouse with him. In principle, if he got to the district center, he could buy some food in the Rosskrepmag, but it was very dangerous to go to Asslickers now. And Egor was not so fond of the Russian's peace and spiritual crosses that he could eat silver fleece or insects. The Cockssux were given dry rations, which consisted entirely of humanitarian aid - stew, cookies, dried fruit and other delicacies. And vouchers - vouchers are the most traded currency, well, after the yuan. No, a dollar or a euro, of course, is more expensive than the yuan, but you just can't find that kind of money.
Egor was looking at the track - what if one of the Coksuck survivors comes out? What to do now? Go home? And what to tell the chieftain? "They shot us like deer, and Yashka sawed himself off"? What the hell is he going to do to me? He gave Yashka the gun, so his nephew was responsible for the fire support. I had nothing to do with it. But in good conscience, I need to avenge my dead Coksuck brothers. How? There's only one bullet... Fuck that. Revenge is a dish to be served cold. So don't be in a hurry, and in general, let the mayor and the chieftain take their revenge. Personally, the assholes did me no harm, and the fact that the squad was shot - that's what the Cockssux are, to die valiantly in battle. They knew what they were doing when they enrolled at Roskosmos. Service to the Motherland is not only putting homeless pensioners on a bottle and whipping scapegoats with a cane. Sometimes it's time to die yourself. But Egor did not want to die. To eat stew and cookies from Coksuck rations - yes, but to get under the buckshot for it - too much. Why would a dead man need dry rations? No, I don't think so.
While Egor was pondering what to do, a hunchbacked scrapper came into sight, who, strutting like a crab, was walking slowly away from Zhopolizov. "Look at you, what a funny scrapper! - thought Egor. - He must have been a dowdy one - he had a strange gait, as if his troop of Cockssux had been coming all night."
When the deadbeat came closer, the Coksuck jumped out of the bushes, ran up to the scrapper, asked what was going on in the village. The scrapper mooed something inarticulate. "He's really down," thought Egor, and kicked the whip under his ass. The scrapper jumped up, skewed to the other side, and quickly scrambled down the road toward the horizon.
Egor sat in the ambush for several more hours. Toward lunchtime, the spring sun began to burn. Uryadnik was already pecking his nose when in his slumber he heard shuffling steps and muffled shuffling. Egor woke up, stroked the hilt of his knife and lay still, turning to listen. Two ragamuffins were walking along the road. Waiting for them to get closer, Egor jumped out of the bushes.
- Freeze, faggots! Face down on the floor! Hands on the back of your heads!
The scrappers jumped, then froze for a few seconds and threw themselves to the ground all at once.
- Don't beat me, chieftain! - cried one ragamuffin. - It's not my fault, it's over there, Oleg said - "and let's go gather pinepinecones, nobody will see". And me demons have compelled, and I have agreed. My father told me that gluttony is a grave sin, but I couldn't help it. Don't kill me, chieftain! Kill Oleg, he's the one!
- Why Oleg, is he a saint or what? - The second scrapper snapped at me. - I, unlike you, don't illegally breed maggots in a cesspool.
The scrapers swore and argued, remembering their past sins and giving each other up.
- Kill Oleg, chieftain! Don't kill me, I love our leader and go to church, I always put candles for Roskosmos and for our government. And this gentile hasn't been to church for two fucking weeks, chieftain! - The ragamuffin was yelling, while he was quietly pulling a dirty package under him, trying to hide it from Egor unnoticed.
- Hands behind your head! - The Coksuck shouted, kicked the scrapper in the side, and pulled the greasy rag, tied with a big knot, out from under him.
- That's not mine! - the ragamuffin screamed. - It's Oleg's!
- Why in the fuck it is mine?! - The other scourge started to deny it. - You had it in your hands, so it's yours. chieftain, kill him! He's the one who steals pinecones in the forest, peels and sifts them, and then eats them at home at night...
- Shut up, both of you! - Egor shouted and untied a knot - in a rag there was a handful of some small garbage.
- What is it? It is necessary to smoke?
- It is Oleg collected seeds from pinecones. He wanted to boil them to fill his belly. He just wants to eat, and he doesn't give a damn that he's plundering national resources!!!
- You cocksuckers..." The Coksuck sighed disappointedly and dumped the seeds on the ground. - Well, get the fuck out of here, while you're still alive.
Yes, the times... Sickelove was saying on the radio that the country's economy and GDP had reached unprecedented heights in 2027, and in 2028 the projected growth would be 800%, and that Russia would become the economic leader of the world in the next five years - but Egor had somehow not noticed it.
Seven years ago, there was an opportunity to make a fortune. By the decision of the government, the Ministry of Health and Medical Industry was opening all over the country and accepting donor organs. At that time, one could go there and donate an organ and they paid good money for it. For one kidney you could gobble up two months. It was at that point that those who had the most money made a lot of money. The chieftain of that time caught a bunch of unreliable scrapers, fined them, and took them to the Ministry of Health and Food. He was paid very well for this, and literally in six months the chieftain became a yuan millionaire and left for Mongolia with his family. Many people rose up on the organs at that time. Scrapers were being slaughtered like dogs, and the scrapers themselves weren't lagging behind. As a result, the organ donor market collapsed. Egor was young and stupid at the time, making sure that he didn't get his own organs cut off. Now Egorka would not miss such a chance - but you can't turn back the clock.
And those stupid scrapers became poor - all as one, you pick their pockets, and they're empty. No way! Many sly-assed bastards have had their pockets picked and stitched shut. Of course, if you search the motherfuckers properly, you might find something, but Egor didn't like to get his hands up other people's asses. Fucking scrappers, they don't want to get rich. They work with their hands down, no income, no savings, nothing. In a word, they're no use to the Cockssux or the state, only a pain in the head. They walk around stinking and spreading the disease and lice - the water is not so expensive that you can't wash yourself!
But they are always demanding something, they are always rebelling. I remember, in winter their Coksuck brigade walked for three days through the houses of the serfs, smelling the stench and whipping lazy bums with their lashes - they did not want to go to the winter public works. It is cold, they said, look - minus thirty they are cold, they say, their nails are freezing to their feet. So it's cold, so what? Somebody has to clear the snow in front of the mayor's office and at Coksuck outposts. And who - a Coksuck - will carry the deadwood? Bastards, I wish they'd die sooner...
Egor was walking down the road towards his hometown and was angry at the stupid, lazy citizens. His stomach was cramping, a second day without food. Dry rations were left on the bus, no one thought it would happen this way... Egor was not accustomed to deny himself anything, much less to starve.
Suddenly a flock of crows soared from the forest belt with a loud cawing.
Coksuck looked at the trees - branches of maples were black with crows' nests.
- And crow’s eggs must be just as good as chicken’s eggs," thought Egor, and headed for the trees.
Egor, like a wounded monkey, climbed higher and higher. Crows flew in the branches and shouted loudly. When Coksuck reached the nest and put his hand there, something suddenly covered his face and his ear hurt... And then it began - the crows, like flying piranhas, attacked from all sides at once, each trying to tear a nice piece from the sweet orthodox flesh of Coksuck. Egor realized that very soon he would be left without eyes, waved his hands and snapped down...
- Get up, you cockerel suck!
Egor opened his eyes. A bearded man was standing over him, poking him in the stomach with a stick. Egor jerked, but nothing came out. His hands were tied behind his back.
- What are you up to, you cross-eyed scamp? Untie me, quick! And you won't get hurt! Do you know who I am?
The bearded man grinned and kicked Egor in the side. The uriadnik crouched down and was immediately struck on the back with a stick.
- Ok-ok-ok-ok, I understand, don't hit! - The Coksuck yelled and sat down.
Beard grabbed Egor by the scruff of the neck like a puppy and put him on his feet.
- Go on, - Egor nearly fell down again because of a strong push to the back.
At first they walked for a long time through a field of weeds, then through a birch grove. Then again a field and finally came to a huddle, where in the bushes there was a clearing with three large tents and a fireplace in the middle.
"Gotcha, ogres..." - Egor thought in horror.
Bearded men and disheveled women came out of the huts. Approached, looked. Some skinny stooped man came close to Egor and smiled:
- And what kind of bird has it brought to us? - the man grabbed Egor by his shoulder straps and yanked him sharply. - Eat it, bitch! - the man hissed, grabbed the Coksuck's head and started to poke him in the lips with Coksuck's epaulettes.
Egor twisted his head, fell on his knees and cried out:
- Don't eat me, good people! Don't eat me, for Christ's sake!!! I'll tell you anything you want, I'll give you anything!!! Just do not eat, I beg you!!!
The ogres laughed, and the man who tore off Egor's shoulder straps leaned over and, staring into Egor's eyes, asked:
- Why is it "don't eat"? Are you something special?
- So I'm that - I'm also an ogre!
- Ogre? - The man asked again, and grinned crookedly.
- Yes, yes, I am, I am an ogre! - Egor shook his head.
- Who do you belong to, fag? We do not eat people. - the man turned to the bearded man, who brought Egor. - And why did you bring this shit here?
- What do you mean why? The donkey will drag the sacks, look how big he is. At least we'll unload the women. And when we get to the mountains, we'll trade them for a horse or a sheep.
Till evening Egor was sitting, leaning against a tree near the tent. The ogres were doing something and talking on incomprehensible topics, discussing something, planning something. As Egorka understood, the gang came from the north and was going to move further south, toward Mongolia.
In the evening the ogres had dinner. Then one of the women spoon-fed Egor like a baby. Then the man who had captured Egor dragged the uriadnik close to the fire, tied his legs, pulled them to his hands and entangled his limbs so that he could not move at all. The position was uncomfortable, but Egor passed out because he had not slept for almost two days.
Coksuck woke up at dawn. The fire was already burning with all its might, hissing and crackling. Egor's bladder was ready to burst.
- Good people, I really want to pee! - said Egor loudly.
One of the ogres came up behind him and untied his legs, then loosened the restraints on his arms and tied them so that his hands were looser.
- Sit on your ass and slip your hands under your feet forward.
Egor did just that.
- If you run, I'll shoot you.
Egor stood up. All the muscles in his body were stiff and hard to listen to. The ogre led him to the edge of the clearing and waited until the Coksuck had done his work. Then both returned to the fire.
The bandits ate breakfast, fed the prisoner, and began to pack. "What an outfit they have," thought Egor. The cannibals put on backpacks and shoulder bags, the man who had ripped off Egor's shoulder straps yesterday took a double-barrelled gun out of the hut and put it on his chest. A huge heavy backpack was also thrown over Egor's shoulders. The Coksuck even sat down from the unexpected weight. That's what a donkey means...
Until noon the group moved without stopping. The ogres were stretched in a long chain, and the Coksuck was walking about in the middle.
Egor was walking with the last strength. His legs were shaky and he began to dream of death, when the group came into a birch grove and stopped for a break. A backpack was taken off the Coksuck. Egor felt such lightness that it seemed that now he would jump to the tops of the birches and fly ... But no, the guy fell into the dry leaves and passed out.
And again Egor was awakened, fed, watered, put on his feet, hung his backpack, kicked his ass... And again the endless transition.
Fields of dry wormwood alternated with hills and groves. Streams, hills, fields again... Closer to the evening the group came to an abandoned village. Judging by the failed in some places the roofs and boarded-up windows in the surviving houses, the village was abandoned long ago. The ogres chose the largest sturdy house for camping, stoked the stove, ate dinner, tied up the Coksuck, and went to bed.
A tedious, freezing rain drizzled since morning. The sky was covered from horizon to horizon. Egor was soaked through and frozen to the bone.
For the third day the detachment moved south. The Coksuck's legs no longer hurt - Egor no longer felt them as separate limbs. It simply became the lower part of the body, which continuously stayed in another dimension - in hell. At another rest, one of the ogres took a blanket out of his backpack, tore two wide ribbons from it, and threw it to Egor. Then she rummaged in another shoulder bag and pulled out a pair of brand-new booties.
He had always had a great disdain for scrapers and their newfangled shoes. But now there was no choice - the boots had blisters, making further movement unbearable. Coksuck changed his shoes and had an orgasm. Even though his feet were soaking wet, it was a thousand times easier to walk.
The ogres themselves were wearing rubber boots. A huge deficit in these times. What's not in short supply these days? Exactly, everything. The country doesn't have its own production, and there's nothing to buy from the Chinese.
As we headed south, closer to Altai, the hills became higher and steeper, turning into real mountains. By noon on the third day the gang had reached the river bank. The ogres took out a compass and a map, discussed something and moved along the bank downstream.
For a long time now Coksuck had no idea where they were. In the previous two days Egor could use the sun as a guide, but now, with the sky curtained by a dense veil, it became impossible to know where was the west and where was the south. The uriadnik stopped thinking about escape. Suppose he runs away, so what? Wild places - he'll get lost and starve to death. Or get into the clutches of other cannibals, who don't need the donkey, and make a pig out of Egorka - I mean, devour him.
Maybe I should ask to go to Mongolia with the ogres? They say there's civilization there, and people don't eat maggots. There's plenty of meat there. I'll get a job herding horses or camels. It's possible to live. There's also a rumor that there's electricity and Internet in Mongolia. They don't make rockets there, but Mongolians don't need them. Mongolia is not a superpower, unlike Russia, the U.S. does not want to seize them, so there is no need to protect natural resources. You can live in Mongolia, wait until Yellowstone explodes in America, and then, as soon as Russia gets up from its knees, immediately and go back to the beautiful country.
Yeah, the bearded guy who tore off Egor's shoulder straps on the first day is called Fedya, he's kind of in charge.
- Fedka, Fedya! - called Egor.
- Why are you shouting?
- Fedya, will you take me to Mongolia with you? I won't run away and I'll help you in everything.
- I'll take you, I don't mind. But tell me, are you a Coksuck?
- Yes, a Coksuck.
- You're a Coksuck, a keeper of traditions and a bearer of the Russian's peace, aren't you?
- Yes, yes," agreed Egor.
- Well, in Mongolia you are sentenced to death for keeping and spreading of the Russian's peace. As soon as they find out you're a carrier of Russian's peace, they'll rip you to pieces. Do you need it? Come on, they'll tear you to pieces - it's not a pity, but they'll execute us, too. You came with us, so you could infect us. Mongols do not want to risk - they already have complexes about the fact that the Horde in the 13th century created the Russian's peace, established the power of Muscovy in Russia, appointed Tsar Genghis Khan and the whole system of the Russian's peace was organized from the wild principalities.
- And I won't tell anyone that I'm a Coksuck. I'll say I'm a boozer and an ogre, too.
- All right, we'll see.
The river meandered between mountains and hills. The river was winding between the mountains and the hills. The water, as it should be in Siberia, was filled with large quantities of pig shit. Apparently, there were Chinese pig farms somewhere upstream.
Behind another bend in the river the group came upon a trail and entered a birch grove that covered the shore and the mountainside. Egor had had time to make out a camp among the trees when there was a loud whistle from somewhere to the left and the detachment stopped.
Before the Coksuck knew it, their detachment was surrounded by a crowd of ragamuffins armed with crossbows. Egor cautiously put up his hands - what the hell, they'll poke him with arrows.
Fedka came forward and talked with them for some minutes. The ragamuffins disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared. Fedka waved, and the gang followed him to the mountainside. The grove was littered with paths that diverged in different directions from the mountainside like cobwebs. Walking along one of the trampled paths, Fedka led his ogres to a cave. "This is it, Alibaba's lair," thought Egor.
A cave? No, it was an underground multistory city, a large settlement, like an anthill. Torches hung on the walls of the grotto every few meters. It was a long natural corridor, then a huge hall, built up with tiered shacks, connected to each other by stairs and bridges.
Fedka left the squad at the entrance to the hall and disappeared into the alleys of the village. A few minutes later he returned with a bearded gnome and called after him. The squad looped through the cave between some buildings in half darkness. "Minotaur's labyrinth, my ass," thought Egor.
At the next turn the guide stopped and pointed his finger at the doorway of some incomprehensible building. Fedka's ogres took candles and flashlights out of their backpacks. The room inside was quite spacious. There was a table in the middle and bunk beds against the walls.
- A five-star hotel," said Fedka, "we'll sleep here.
Of course, Egor knew about the ogre settlements, but he did not think they were so huge. Sickelove repeatedly told him on the radio that in 2024 there was a zombie epidemic across the world, and that the worst hit were, of course, the United States and the European Union. This trouble did not pass also Russia, but, thanks to spiritual staples of the God-chosen nation, Russian people have suffered a little - only 40 % of Russians have turned to vile cannibals who have gone mad, have rebelled against the great Leader and have run to live in wood. Sickelove reassured the Scrapers, saying that cannibals are not a threat to stability and are only a temporary hindrance. They say, soon the Chinese brothers will help to destroy them, as they are helping Russia gratuitously - they are destroying the Siberian taiga.
No one was specifically engaged in the fight against cannibals. Coksuck brigades could not cope with such a strong enemy, and the Rosguardiya consumed a lot of resources, and it was difficult to send them out of the city. And no one knew how to fight in the woods and mountains and did not want to. And what for?
Sickelove told us that the ogres eat orthodox scrapers, catching honest scrapers, dragging them to their underground dens, dismembering, raping them, and eating them raw. But the local ogres, as Egor realized, did not eat human flesh at all. The underground city had its own rather large fly nursery, which functioned on the natural resources that the river brought. The cave-dwellers also kept underground pigs. The pigs were fed with maggots and grass. The maggots were raised on pig shit. The food cycle in the cave. Also, it seems, they have a goat farm in the woods - in summer ogres took turns grazing goats and mowing grass, making hay for the winter.
"They're settling in, and they don't even eat the maggots, they feed them to the pigs," thought Egor.
Fedka unpacked his backpacks, took out two iron shovels, and went somewhere for a long time. The ringleader came back with a heavy sack full of smoked fat and meat.
- So, ladies and gentlemen, tomorrow we rest, get cleaned up. Then we hit the road. Maybe the rain will stop.