Wild world. Colonists

"Wild world. Colonists" is a science fiction novel by Russian writer Sergei Izvolsky.

The train from Moscow to Surgut brought together different people. One of the passengers was going to visit his friend, the other went to see his girlfriend. Another group of guys were going to relax and have fun. Everyone had their own plans and goals that were not destined to come true. After all, they arrived in a completely different place - in a huge deep ravine.

At the same time, far in the forest, in a military unit, which is located away from people, a leak of a dangerous virus occurred. All people and passengers became prisoners of one town. They are cut off from the outside world, there is no way to contact anyone. Now they have to deal with dangers, and these are not only those who decided to take advantage of the situation. Strangers will have to unite in the fight for survival. The city is full of zombies and mutants that civilians and military personnel will have to face. And then, willy-nilly, you will kill, fighting for your own life.

The book contains several storylines, the narrative moves from one character to another, but at the end of the book everything is woven together and a complete picture emerges. The book will appeal to anyone who loves combat science fiction, fighting, shooting, although there is some lyricism in the work.

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Sergei Izvolsky

Wild world. Colonists

Greater Poland parish

A little over two years ago, Roman had a birthday. He was then nineteen. With friends in the old six, which Roma inherited from his grandfather, the company went to celebrate this occasion in the neighboring regional center. The battery charge disappeared along the way, but there was no way to return. We didn’t get there quite a bit - a car speeding with its headlights off hit a drunken man who was returning home from a neighboring village. The man was depressed and walked in the middle of the road.

He's lucky he survived. Roman was unlucky in that the man who was hit turned out to be the brother-in-law of the local traffic police chief, so he did not get off with a suspended sentence. And the guy had alcohol in his blood, so he sat down almost to the maximum.

The first few days in prison were very difficult. It seemed to Roma as if an eternity had passed, and it was only the second day. Or the third. Then it became completely unbearable. Time seemed to stand still, and every day dragged on for an indescribably long time. In the first month, he constantly swore off keeping track of time and immediately began counting every hour.

He had to serve his sentence a little less than three years, minus the time spent behind bars during the investigation. On the second day after the verdict, Roma calculated that he had nine hundred and twenty-one days left to serve. It was not possible to calculate how many hours this is. There was no calculator, and when I tried to multiply by column, I always got different numbers.

But a person gets used to everything. After several months, he no longer thought every couple of minutes about how long he had left to stay here. I had just dealt with this when another problem appeared. At the very beginning of the term, I fell asleep easily, with the thought that the hours in my sleep would fly by unnoticed, but every day in the evenings it became more and more difficult. The realization gnawing from within was how time flows away like sand. “Your years are wonderful!” - a poster hung on the facade of his school. Previously, he had not paid any attention to this inscription at all, but here, after lights out, this phrase constantly popped up in his thoughts. Three years. “Your years are wonderful!” Were. Three whole years of his youth can be erased from life. That's it, youth is over.

It was the seven hundred and seventeenth day when Roma was taken straight from lunch to the administration building. Signing the documents, the guy could not believe that his imprisonment was over - the amnesty came completely unexpectedly for him. The last night in the colony, Roma did not fall asleep, a happy smile never left his lips. He recalled how he blurted out “Freedom!” when the spinning pen hovered over the column “follows the place of residence.” Well, he didn’t write it down directly, then it would be very difficult to restore the registration at the housing office.

"Freedom!" - Roman exhaled, finding himself outside the gate early in the morning, and, adjusting the bag behind his back, took a deep breath, enjoying the delicious air of will.

Behind him were the prison gates, and a little to the left the gray-painted gates of a military unit with red stars. Through the sparse spruce forest on the right one could see gray three-story houses in which military families and correctional facility workers lived. Roma approached the stop on the bus circle and looked at the schedule. There was no bus expected in the next hour. Well, okay, you can take a walk.

The guy walked along the forest road with a flying gait. It’s about twenty kilometers to Wielkopolye, and even if no one gives him a ride, he’ll be there by nine in the morning anyway.

As soon as Roma came out onto the main road, he immediately saw people. To the left of the intersection, on the side of the road, stood a sky-blue Gazelle with a yellow stripe along the side. “VysotskTransGas” read the inscription in black letters on the side of the car, and next to it was a logo, like a gas rig. The Gazelle's hood was raised, and two men in gray uniforms with reflective stripes were peering into it intently, quietly talking.

Okay, let’s push,” one of them, an older one, said loudly, and closed the hood of the car with a loud knock. - Eh, come out! - He drummed his palm on the glass.

Two more men, with sleepy faces and also in uniform, came out of the side door of the gazelle into the air with curse words.

The starter doesn’t turn, let’s push it,” the elderly man told them, getting ready to get behind the wheel.

Turning around, he saw Roma and even flinched in surprise.

Oh you! Boy, I scared you! “Ugh,” the old man took hold of his heart. - And how quietly he approached. From the owner? - taking a breath, he asked, pointing towards the colony.

Roma simply nodded in response.

Help me push, will you? - Another nod in response, the elderly man jumped into the driver’s seat.

Roman came up in the car and, together with three passengers, pressed his palms against the rear doors. Dirty - slightly changing the position of his hand, he saw a mark from the palm. It became a bit crowded, everyone was pushing sideways, but the car easily rolled out onto the road, picking up speed. The Gazelle jerked slightly when the driver engaged the gear, and then the muffler rattled evenly. “Either it’s broken, or it’s already old and burned out,” thought Roman. The car stopped on the side of the road, and the elderly man leaned out of the slightly open side window, looking at the guy.

Thank you, earth! Should I drop you off? We are going to Wielkopolye.

Yes, let’s do it,” Roma nodded gratefully.

In the car, no one pestered him with questions; the passengers chatted a little about some Lyudka and fell silent. Roman sat down on the seat by the window, peering at the roadside landscape. But, apart from the roadside and bushes, nothing was visible, and after ten minutes he had already dozed off.

Roma woke up from the fact that his head, hanging on his chest, was shaking and he hit the glass a couple of times. Opening his eyes, the guy at first did not understand where he was. It took him a few seconds to remember how he ended up in the car. Feeling that he had been drooling while he slept, Roma hastily wiped his face and, rubbing his eyes, stared out the window. The gazelle was driving along a forest road, rolling over gentle uneven surfaces.

Evgen, look, he’s woken up,” one of the passengers said to the other.

The passenger, named Evgen, glanced briefly at Roma and nodded, turning away. Roman felt uneasy - the voice that uttered the phrase was completely devoid of emotional coloring. Strikingly different from the voice in which this passenger had recently discussed Lyudka. Sensing something was wrong, Roman opened his mouth to ask where he was being taken.

The road is closed, we are taking a detour. The bridge across Sur-Zmeinaya is being repaired,” the driver spoke, looking at him in the rearview mirror.

Roman calmed down, and the anxiety that gripped him seemed like sheer nonsense. Why was he so upset? The voice, you see, seemed colorless to him... Angry with himself, Roma even drove away the thoughts that the driver called the river Sur-Snake, although no one in the area called it except Snake. People are from Vysotsk after all.

Roman leaned against the glass again, trying to fall asleep, but he couldn’t. The car was rocking a lot, and it was worth the effort to keep my head straight so as not to hit my forehead against the glass. But soon, when a barbed wire fence flashed through the window, the guy became worried again. Standing up, he saw that the road ended at a high gate with stars. The car slowed down nearby, and the doors were already opening smoothly.

Where have we arrived? - Roman asked loudly, getting up, again feeling something was wrong.

Quiet, quiet,” Evgen, sitting next to him, patted him on the shoulder and pulled him down by the sleeve.

This was said with some laziness and a feeling of undeniable superiority. This is how the fisherman calms the contentedly trembling fish, which he has just thrown onto the ground next to him. It was as if Roman was doused with icy water, and a very bad feeling appeared inside him.

Something must be done, he thought. Maybe break the glass? It’s too late - the car has already entered the territory. Roman shook his head in panic, but, noticing that two passengers were watching him, he sat down calmly. The men watched, albeit without much tension, but tenaciously.

“Let’s go out,” Evgen told him.

Roman slowly stood up, preparing to go outside. As soon as the door opens, you must immediately start to the right and jump over the fence, the guy decided.

Stop! - his neighbor touched him by the sleeve. - Calm down, don’t run, okay?

His face was like a mask. Roman hesitated only a moment to answer, and then a wild pain exploded in his side. The guy screamed in surprise and fell to his knees, groaning in pain.

Eh, eh! If you throw it here, I’ll rip your legs out! - the driver’s voice sounded dramatically changed.

Do you understand? - the neighbor asked Roma again.

“I see,” he said with difficulty and could not resist groaning.

It seems that this freak poked him and not very hard, but he couldn’t even breathe. With an effort, Roma stood up and got out of the car, grimacing in pain. He could not stand straight, he was holding his side, bent over. It was very painful and difficult to breathe. We need to quickly come to our senses and run, run away from here.

“Let’s go,” they pushed the guy in the back, and Roma hobbled in the indicated direction. I tried not to walk very fast, I tried to catch my breath. He didn’t understand what was going on here, but he really wanted to get away as quickly as possible. I immediately remembered that the bag with my things was left in the car. And to hell with the bag, I wish I could get out of here myself.

Sergei Izvolsky

Wild world. Hyenas

The old world died unexpectedly in everyday life. Or rather, no, not like that. The old world died in an indecently everyday way. And boring. And it’s insultingly ordinary. Most people didn’t even notice anything on the first day. What was there to notice? Let it snow heavily, albeit at the end of April - but that doesn’t happen here - maybe it was brought by the north wind. Against the backdrop of the vagaries of the weather, the power outage did not look strange - tea is not in a metropolis, and people here, if not accustomed to such gifts, but the blackout panic was definitely not about them.

The biggest inconvenience was the lack of mobile communication. But for the most part, the people were not particularly worried - on the first day of the new world, there was still the same sky around, the same native birch trees and the same water of the slowly flowing Velikaya River. Emergency and public service vehicles drove along the roads, saleswoman Baba Zoya habitually grumbled, counting out change from large bills in the dim light of a candle on the counter, and the usual sounds of the grinding of shovels of wipers clearing snow echoed through the quiet streets.

The old world ended, but the system still worked. While I was working.

The usual course of things was disrupted gradually, imperceptibly. The understanding that a new reality had arrived did not come immediately and not to everyone. And, unfortunately, many of those who were the first to realize this very quickly threw off the incredibly thin husk of civilization that turned out to be, literally feeling with their skin what was now possible. But this did not happen right away, and on the very first day of the new world, the majority were engaged in familiar and everyday activities. Although there were those whom another reality immediately slammed their face into the harsh reality, also moving their muzzle around it in order to assimilate the emerging realities. Like us, for example. I have every reason to believe that the first civilian casualties were on our train, which arrived at the border so unsuccessfully. And we first of all experienced for ourselves what it means when the old world ends. Not only in the allegorical, but also in the literal sense - no one survived in the carriages that collapsed to the bottom of the abyss of the ditch enclosing the new lands.

But we were not the only ones who came face to face with the inexplicable immediately and irrevocably. There were others - military men from Yagodnoye and military unit 10003/018, relatives of those killed in the Velikopolye Palace of Culture, residents of villages who, unfortunately, found themselves close to the border. There were those who realized almost immediately the inevitability of change, albeit subconsciously for now, and there were quite a few of us like that. But in the absence of communication, information spread very slowly. Even catastrophically slow, so most people remained dangerously ignorant in the early days.

The very first sign of the new world is previously unseen animals. It’s good that there were only a few of them, but those who met them and survived certainly immediately realized that not everything was all right around them. The second obvious sign is that they are soulless. Many met them, and it’s good that in the first days the soulless did not pose much of a threat. Well, on the fifth day, when the gloomy clouds cleared and everyone saw two moons in the sky, even those furthest from what was happening realized that we were not at home.

There was no time to answer the first on the list of the eternal question: “who is to blame?”; The question came to the fore: “what to do?” Fortunately for me, there were people nearby like Tolstoy, Lekha Nikolaevich, Artem, Zheka, met by an incredible coincidence of circumstances, Stas and Dim-Dim, yes... yes, the same Shcherbakov in the end! All of them saved me from tossing around freedom of choice. Sometimes they even saved me so much that I had to act first, and only then reason - the whirlpool of events picked up and carried my insignificant figure in the scale of the general catastrophe, sometimes carrying me to the very top. Like foam on a wave.

Yes, the world around has changed, but instead of looking beyond the borders of the new land, those around them began to divide power. In principle, it is not surprising - the world around has changed, but the people, the people, have remained the same.

... from the notes of Alexander Startsev

The sun peeked through a gap in the clouds and its rays, which saturated the white veil of snow covering the ground with light, instantly blinded the driver. The washer motor whirred, but it didn’t get better, it was even worse - the dry brushes only smeared water on the glass. Through the veil of liquid drips the road was now completely invisible, so the speed had to be reduced.

A heavyset man, dozing in the passenger seat, opened his eyes slightly from the light, but immediately squinted and lowered the sunshield. Despite this, the bright rays still blinded him, reflecting from the ground and playing with a myriad of colors on the surface of the snow-white, virgin snow.

Where are they?! - the driver, a lean man with a narrow face, said irritably, rummaging through the door glove compartment. But he soon let out a cry of glee when he discovered the dark glasses and immediately put them on. The passenger, looking sideways at the driver, chuckled and turned away, still squinting his eyes, unaccustomed to the bright light.

If you don’t like it, don’t look,” the driver commented after hearing a chuckle, “but I can see everything now.”

His appearance at the moment was truly comical - wide aviator glasses did not look at all on his narrow face, and besides, they sat crookedly - one temple was bent.

“Come on, Igor, but it’s like Stallone’s,” the overweight passenger answered in a hoarse, smoky voice, smiling.

It's true. I carried them for a couple of years when the fashion took off. Now, if I see photographs from that time... it’s just terrible,” Igor winced.

“I had those too,” the obese man nodded to his memories, reaching for cigarettes. The lighter wheel clicked and clouds of bluish smoke, clearly visible in the sunlight, filled the car.

If so, open the window,” the driver winced. But after thinking, he reached for cigarettes.

Passenger Kolya, who was comfortably seated in the seat, grunted with displeasure, and then twisted heavily and turned the window handle. The glass only dropped a couple of centimeters, but he considered it sufficient. The driver Igor also did not open the window wide, and cigarette smoke filled the entire cabin.

Nikolai, taking another drag, looked around the car. Early in the morning, when he sat down here in the dark, everything in the cabin looked less gray and dirty. Then only the general outlines were visible, and the lighting of the instruments and radio was comfortably illuminated. Now the dust on the dashboard is clearly visible, and the ash from cigarettes is below, and there is absolutely a deposit of it in the gearbox lever casing. The carpets on the floor are no longer visible - just dried dirt, and brown stripes are visible on the door trim.

Wild world. Colonists Sergei Izvolsky

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Title: Wild World. Colonists

About the book “Wild World. Colonists" Sergei Izvolsky

The guys just got on the train.

One was going to Surgut, to visit friends. The other is to his girlfriend.

Still others - shoot and run around, at an airsoft party.

Someone else decided to ride “for company.”

We met and sat for a while.

And then something terrible happened. Everything that came before is over.

And the train arrived... into a ravine as deep as a nine-story building.

Winter, frost, snow. Those who survived scream. He who does not scream is dead.

All around are unknown animals, an unknown world, mutants...

And people who can no longer be called people.

But I want to live.

We'll have to shoot...

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