Аннотация

* * * ...Eddy slipped into the carriage in the last moment and the guillotine doors shut with a bang behind his back. A siren howled and the train dashed forward whistling and rumbling, immediately picking up speed. Somebody cried involuntarily, having fallen on the pinned elbow rest. Eddy only smiled – this one would get off at the first or second circle. Or would die. The Subway doesn’t tolerate the likes of him. Before his eyes flashed the face of that guy there, above – beaten, distorted with pain and despair; and his doglike glance up to a policeman raising his club. It was his own fault – he hadn’t crossed the road in time, while there was a green light – but still... ...The train braked even more abruptly than it had started, but this time nobody hit the needles sticking out from the front wall. Eddy pondered for a moment whether he should go down here, and this pause saved his life. A tall guy in a chequered cowboy-like shirt and blue trousers sitting tight on his hips dashed to the exit – and got himself into a break-mode. The door-leaves flashed and the guy was cut into halves. The blood gushed out, the black maw of the utiliser opened wide in the floor, and the body stumps fell down. The floor closed.

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The Eighth Circle of the Subway

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