Chapter - 15

A conversation with a man who called himself a priest left an unpleasant aftertaste. Grisha just wasted time, which was already in short supply, for some reason he believed that officer and was left with nothing. It was worth realizing for yourself that the world where a loved one could lend you a helping hand in a difficult moment no longer existed. Once and for all. And this priest did not look at all like a person who could help someone. He looked depressed and confused, the kind of person who had lost faith himself. However, now all this is in the past. The fact remained that the guy never managed to put down the vaccination marks for himself and his wife, and now they were, in fact, outside the law. It was necessary to look ahead and deal with pressing problems.

Grisha parked on one of the streets of empty Rostov, not far from the rehabilitation center, which was supposed to open any minute. My head was boiling. He kept encouraging himself and reassuring himself that not everything was lost and perhaps in the center, which is designed to help the "whites", they would close their eyes to the absence of a vaccination mark. The guy didn't even want to think what would happen if everything went wrong and the lack of a mark would be a fatal mistake for his family.

Nadia still hasn't regained consciousness, although she was confident on her feet and could move independently. However, the girl's gaze seemed glassy, she was constantly silent and did not react to her husband's words. It was hoped that by the opening of the center, the side effects of the sleeping pills would come to naught. To present his wife in front of the doctors in the form she was in now looked like complete madness. There will be a whole bunch of questions that will have to be answered at gunpoint. I didn't want that at all, because it's unlikely that he will be able to lie something sensible. Grisha understood his situation without words.

He moistened the napkin with water and gently wiped his wife's face. The girl was burning, Nadia's cheeks were red as fire, her face was swollen.

"It's going to be okay, just be patient," he said.

Nadia didn't say anything. The guy sat motionless in the car seat for a while, gathering strength after a sleepless night. He felt every muscle, every joint, the pain of which echoed in his mind. It was worth hurrying. He saw people gathering outside the rehabilitation center. Grisha did not know on what principle the reception would be carried out, but he did not want to find himself with nothing after an hour-long trip to Rostov and all the troubles that he had to go through. The guy's gaze fell on several benches and a small gazebo, comfortably located in the courtyard of the rehabilitation center. Until Nadia came to her senses, she should have left her spouse in the gazebo, and taken the queue herself. He got out of the car, helped Nadia get out, who followed her husband on the machine and supporting his wife by the elbow, moved to the entrance to the rehabilitation center.

On the iron gate, painted dark green, hung a faded name plate.

"TOPOLEK".

It was not difficult to guess that a kindergarten or a private school was once located on the site of the rehabilitation center.

"I wonder where those children who once went here are now? What kind of bracelet is wearing on their wrist? White or red? Maybe some of them are standing in line with their parents right now. It would be funny...".

Grisha threw the thoughts that had come from nowhere out of his head. None of the people who came to the rehabilitation center for help paid any attention to Grisha. These people didn't care about anything, their thoughts and views were directed at the doors of the room, from which the employees of the center were about to appear and begin the opening ceremony. He entered the gates of the rehabilitation center, feeling the gazes of people in camouflage and with weapons in their hands. I felt uneasy. The fighters raised their machine guns and held the crowd at gunpoint.

"Why? What do you think?"

The guy shifted uncertainly from one foot to the other. The question hung in Grisha's head, and remained unanswered. Hardly anyone from the crowd came to the rehabilitation center against their will. Then why such impressive security, automatic weapons? Perhaps he did not know something that the founders of the white aid center knew. It was very curious, but there was no time to talk about such topics, corny. One of the soldiers in camouflage, who was standing at the entrance, handed Grisha a pamphlet and handed it to Nadia. The girl did not pay any attention to the man with the machine gun, continuing to look with a glassy gaze somewhere in the distance.

- My wife is a little out of her mind, - Grisha gave a strangled smile.

- Show the bracelets and come through, - said the fighter.

"Show him the bracelet and get your bullet in the forehead. Bang-bang!".

Caustic, swaddling words. Grisha gritted his teeth. The fighter opposite looked at him with a cold, indifferent gaze.

"Your bracelets," the soldier repeated.

The guy nodded and hurriedly pulled up the sleeve on his wife's jacket, showing a white bracelet to a military man. The guy stretched out his hand and showed his bracelet, staring at nothing. Now this man will see that there is no necessary mark on the bracelets of the spouses and ... To Grisha's surprise, the military nodded silently, which apparently meant moving on. Grisha grabbed his wife and literally dragged her away towards the gazebo, feeling how wet his T-shirt was under his armpits.

"That's all, and you were afraid, only the skirt was crumpled...".

"Shut your fucking mouth!".

Grisha felt the blood rush to his face from rage. It was not worth relaxing and ruling out problems with the absence of a label in the future, but now everything was going as smoothly as ever, if not for this voice inside. He took his wife to the gazebo and gently put her on a bench. Nadia gradually came to her senses and began to look around.