LITMIR.BIZ

      The spittle, most likely, directly hit the button that switched Z’s brain off, because Z at once opened the door and jumped out of the car. A second later a baseball bat hit him hard on the back of his head. Something burst in his head, a red wave flashed before his eyes, and Z fell to his knees, exactly reproducing the picture from the educational poster where some unfortunate dude was experiencing failure of his protection kit outdoors. Z probably missed some seconds, because the next thing he saw was the sky full of autumn leaves, falling down slowly and solemnly, and a flock of stray salesbirds, gliding down to him with their sound holes wide open. Z was writhing on the asphalt, trying to protect his ears with his arms. A second later, the salesbirds attacked him, drowning him in furious sound waves. Not everyone can withstand the one hundred and fifty decibels allowed by law. Salesbirds, to break through the defense, could produce almost two hundred.

      Through the reddish mist, Z saw the surprised face of a man with a cigar. He came closer and was contemplating Z curiously, obviously at a loss as to what to do next. Apparently, he had managed to evade Conscious Citizens Training somehow.

      Z clenched his teeth. Here it is. You risk your life daily for the sake of these brutes, and they… well, they just remain brutes. He curled up like a worm and, having gathered the last bit of saliva in his parched throat, spat right on the shoe of the passerby. The shoe instantly turned purple, and wrinkled. The shoe’s owner turned purple too and, without thinking twice, kicked Z in the ribs.

      Since no force would make Z remove his hands from his ears, he rolled back and used his legs too, having planted both of them neatly and heavily into the enemy’s groin. The passerby grunted and doubled over, and, at that moment, a silence fell. Real silence, not a purchased one. In a world that is soaked through, penetrated and stitched with sounds, this was as strange as if the air itself had suddenly disappeared.

      The rivals, one on his back and the other bent double, exchanged understanding glances and began to part rapidly. The passerby bent over more than ever, but now holding his face instead of his groin, and, like a giant crab, moved sideways in swift tiny steps, and was lucky enough and had time to take shelter in the door of the nearest office before it was blocked. Z, hiding his face from the cameras, stood on his knees amid the street and looked around in bewilderment. There was ringing in his ears. There was a red wall before his eyes. There was a nauseous sickness in his knees. But there was not a single sober thought in his head. Moreover, he completely forgot where people usually take these thoughts. Painfully squinting, he stupidly looked towards the end of the street, where something was obviously happening, only he could not make out what it was. He shook his head, squeezed his temples with his hands and finally saw the invisible wind driving an asphalt wave towards him along the road. The wave was rapidly growing and was already beginning to spread, grasping Toy’s rear wheels.