Welcome to Scribd, the world's digital library. Read, publish, and share books and documents. See more
Download
Standard view
Full view
of .
Save to My Library
Look up keyword or section
Like this
1Activity
0 of .
Results for:
No results containing your search query
P. 1
Vox Dei - Part 2: Sunday

Vox Dei - Part 2: Sunday

Ratings:

4.5

(2)
|Views: 41 |Likes:
Published by Andrew Carey
Whether your interest is in Bulgaria, in the ways US intelligence works with local agencies, in the ramifications of law and disorder in the former Eastern Bloc, or a wonderfully human detective thriller, you'll find what you're looking for in Vox Dei. Published to acclaim in Bulgaria two years ago, Vox Dei makes its debut in English here.
Whether your interest is in Bulgaria, in the ways US intelligence works with local agencies, in the ramifications of law and disorder in the former Eastern Bloc, or a wonderfully human detective thriller, you'll find what you're looking for in Vox Dei. Published to acclaim in Bulgaria two years ago, Vox Dei makes its debut in English here.

More info:

Published by: Andrew Carey on Aug 02, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

Availability:

Read on Scribd mobile: iPhone, iPad and Android.
download as DOC, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
See more
See less

02/07/2013

pdf

text

original

 
Vox Dei
Valentin Fortunov
with Andrew CareyPart 2: Sunday
 
SUNDAY1–––––
He knows that voice. He knows…He knows this pain. It’s going to creep up to the top of his head like a drug. Like a blue dye in his blood. Filling hisskull with blue pain. He knows this pain. It will criss-crosshis head with metal bands. He feels like the dummy in a painkiller advertisement. Like a Roman legionnaire in that… film. Can he still tear the bands off? A skullcap.
 
Heremembers tearing it off before. His blood bled like jelly then.Sticky, like the warm jelly at Maria’s party. Blue raspberry.Why was the jelly still warm? Did he make it too late? Did he forget to put it in the fridge? Had there been another powercut?Oh fuck. Yes, he knows that voice. That man’s voice.This pain. Now the blue turns to white. Blinding. A rush of light, blue-white, sucked into the room, filling his body,
 
crushing the pain into a ball, like a tumour in the top of hishead. One of those tumours that swell like tubers, engulfing awhole hemisphere until the surgeons excise it – leaving youmute and limp. Like last year’s tuber. Last year’s tuba.He doesn’t remember.What do you want? What is it that you want? He knowswhat the voice wants. Can’t quite remember. He stands up.Can’t stand. Floats up. Oh lucky man. Floats up and walks asif his legs are tied. His legs are tied. He knows he can untiethem, but they are tied with Maria’s hair. He cannot cut it.He knows he can untie it. He did it before. He can’t rememberwhat to do. He remembers only that last time he rememberedmore. He is losing his memory in the pain. He is losingcontrol. Each time it is harder. Each time he knows less.His hands brush against a wall and he feels his feet onthe rough ground, though he is not walking. He smells batshit. Christ, bat shit. A smell from childhood. Acrid. Flaringhis nostrils, straining for fresh air. Fresher air. A rush to thelight. Voices.Fuck. Where am I?

You're Reading a Free Preview

Download
/*********** DO NOT ALTER ANYTHING BELOW THIS LINE ! ************/ var s_code=s.t();if(s_code)document.write(s_code)//-->