Написала буквально за два вечера. Прям радуюсь. Часть из этого пойдёт в домашку. Названия препаратов частично пришлось зацензурить. Вощем, для контекста: Брайан хуйнул себе довольно сильную рецептурную штуку, которую достал нелегально. И ему с этого было нихуя не хорошо. Вообще, блин, если кто-то прочтёт мой роман и решит, что я пропагандирую употребление всякого, то можно заранее считать, что у этого человека нет мозгов...🛸🛸🛸He didn't want to cry. He wanted to. But he couldn't. He couldn't. Then he started sobbing. He wiped his tears on his wet rolled-up sleeves. And then he kept crying, and wiping off more tears, madness brewing at the core of him, ripping through his ribcage, twisting and cracking, and leaving thorn scratches all over his skin, and he was like, bleeding on the inside. Silently. All over. His Blackberry bleeped on the shelf behind him. Carter reached back to get the phone. It was a text from Amanda. "not going 2 pub. went to get Dorothy" He smiled and texted her, ":-) deal, l'll call 2 prep" He dialled Brian's landline. His mum picked up right away."Hello.""Hi, Mrs. Twist. It's Carter. We found him."At once she went, "Oh, thank God! Thank God! Bless your soul, my boy--""We're at my place," he continued. "Amanda's on her way to pick you up."The line went all static for a second. Then, a loud sigh and a sob, "Is he. . . aaah. . . alright?""About that," said Carter. "You know, he took something.""Oh," she sighed again, so much exhaustion in a single breath, "course, he did. Is he OK?""I think so," said Carter. He scratched his nose. "I mean, he's out now." "Oh."He felt his neck warming up, a lump in his throat growing bigger. He said, "I don't think it was a party drug.""What?!"Carter took one empty ampoule out of his pocket and rolled it on his palm. "I think he'll be fine," he said. "He's breathing. Checked his pupils with a flashlight. It's all normal. His heartbeat, a little low, but overall not that bad, I promise--""Oh my God, Carter. What did he take?""I'm not sure."There was a tiny sticker on the ampoule, "*** HCl Injection. For intravenous use, 10mg/ml." Carter cleared his throat. "I was wondering, though, maybe you've got Naloxone? Just a hunch, you know, please, don't worry." She gasped and the line went all static again. He popped open the ampoule with a fingernail and sniffed the leftover droplets on the rim. It smelt like the best poison should. Pure fucking nothing."Dorothy?" he called her. "Are you there?""Yes." Her voice was low, barely audible. "Thank you, Carter. I've got the medicine. Been keeping it. . . just in case. . . you know?""Yeah," said Carter. He sighed. Naloxone. The *** antagonist, prescription only and blah-blah, and she just happened to have it. Just in case, huh? Must've used hospital connections to get her hands on it."I'm going to get dressed now," said Dorothy. "See you soon.""See you, Mrs. Twist," he was ready to hang up, almost ready, but, "Oh, one more thing. I didn't. . . exactly speak to Am about my hunch, didn't want her to freak out, so. . . would you mind not mentioning Naloxone to her?""Sure," she said. "Carter?""Yes?"More static."I'm so sorry about your wedding.""It's OK, Mrs. Twist. It's. . . not a big deal, really. " He hung up before she could say anything. He put the ampoule back in his pocket and sighed, relief washing over him, a giant tender wave. She was gonna be there soon. She had the Naloxone, like he'd thought she would. Brian was gonna be OK. The fucking arsehole. He was gonna be OK. There was a loud splash. Carter cocked his head up. The body in the bathtub shifted. Another splash, water pouring all over the ledge, leaking onto the floor.(продолжение в комментариях) #StarpunkAlphaCentauri#StarpunkArt
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