Читать книгу: «The evil will come for you»

THE LIGHT

CHAPTER 1

“Holy crap,” muttered a heavyset man slouched in an armchair, clutching the remote in his right hand and scratching his bald, greasy head with his left. His name was Bob and that evening he was watching TV, occasionally pressing buttons on the remote control in hopes of finding something worth watching. The curtains in the room were drawn tight, leaving only the glow from the television to illuminate the dark living-room.

Bob stretched out his left hand and grabbed a can of beer from under the table.

“Oh, yeah!” he uttered with relief, pulling the metal can away from his chubby lips. A drop of liquid fell on his white undershirt.

“Every time I want to relax and watch something funny, there’s nothing good on,” he mumbled, his voice sounding slightly drunk.

At last, Bob took the last large swig of his drink, set the can down on the glass-topped table with a clink, and exhaled sharply.

Staring at the flickering TV screen, he flipped through channels until, with a weary shake of his head, he finally switched it off. The wall clock showed midnight.

“Time for bed,” he commanded to himself, rising from the armchair.

* * *

The dog’s barking annoyed Bob tearing through the uneasy stillness of the night.

“Shut up!” he snarled at his mongrel, storming to the window.

“Welton!” Bob’s voice trembld as he fumbled with the lock. The pane groaned open, a gentle summer wind touching his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded from the dog looking around trying to see the reason of its barking.

Welton was barking at the gate. The bones it had been gnawing gleamed scattered among the weeds, clattering whenever the dog’s paw brushed them.

“What the hell are you so nervous about?” Bob snapped, waving a trembling hand, “Go back to your kennel! You’re getting on my nerves!”

But Welton was deaf to his master’s plea, his fevered barking relentless, desperate.

Bob glanced at the gate beginning to get a little worried.

A sudden gust of wind blew into his face. Bob sensed the air was tainted. It seemed like something rotten penetrated into his nostrils.

“Who’s there?” he asked as loudly as he could. But silence was his answer.

“Is anybody there?” he ventured to ask again.

The dog was still barking and there was still no reply. So Bob cursed at it, “You, stupid old dog!”

Bob shifted his fat belly away from the windowsill and disappeared into the room without closing the window.

* * *

“Another conundrum,” Bob muttered, standing before the open fridge and rubbing his belly. Beer bottles lined the shelves, their glassy eyes glinting in the flicker of the kitchen light.

Something dark and shriveled caught his eye behind them – an old piece of toast, nearly forgotten.

“Gotcha!” Bob uttered cheerfully, as he reached in and snagged the stale bread.

“A feast fit for a king!” he snickered, turning the hard toast over in his hands.

Suddenly, the barking that had been filling the house all evening stopped. Bob frowned. Slamming shut the kitchen door, he hurried towards the living-room.

“Welton!” he called, voice echoing off the blank walls as he peered out the window. The yard was empty, still. An unnatural silence pressed in on all sides, heavy as fog.

“Welton! Where are you?” he asked, now more uncertain than annoyed.

He tossed the stale toast out the open window, watching it spiral into the darkness and hit the ground with a dull thud.

“Come on, gobble it up and quiet down!” he shouted, closed the window and drew the curtains tight.

* * *

Entering his bedroom, Bob moved directly to the floor lamp and switched it off. But oddly, the room remained unnervingly bright. A strange, unnatural glow seemed to seep in from outside. What could it be? Bob frowned, his skin prickling with a mixture of numbness and curiosity. He edged closer to the drawn curtains and peered through a narrow gap. Something out there – a shape or a light – made him whisper in disbelief, “What the…?”

His hands began to tremble uncontrollably. His whole body shuddered with an icy dread. Unbelievable. Yet, he leaned closer to the window, drawn like a moth to a flame.

Bob slowly raised his trembling right hand toward the curtain, steeling himself to pull it aside. Dread coursed through him as his shaking fingers finally made contact with the fabric. Taking a deep breath, he began to draw the curtain back with deliberate, careful movements.

Suddenly, a luminous, almost blinding light flooded the room. The brilliance was so intense that Bob couldn't make out anything beyond the window. Sharp pain shot through his eyes, and he immediately threw his palms up to shield them, crying out in agony.

"What the hell?" he yelled, his voice strained with panic. "What is going on here?" he moaned, his words overlapping in distress.

The fierce, howling wind shattered the window frame with violent force. The curtains began to billow and whip frantically in the gusts, rising so high they nearly brushed the ceiling.

Light poured relentlessly through the broken window, flooding the room until it became an overwhelmingly white void. Bob instinctively began to retreat, but his foot caught on something unseen. He lost his balance and crashed heavily to the floor, his head striking the ground with a sickening thud.

"No!" he attempted to cry out, though his voice came as barely more than a rasp. "Please!" He began dragging himself across the floor like a wounded soldier retreating from battle.

"No! Please! I beg you, whoever you are!" he pleaded desperately, his voice breaking with terror.

The light grew increasingly blinding, consuming everything in its path. Bob lay sprawled near the doorway, desperately trying to shield his eyes with his palms, which were now bleeding from the strain and pressure.

Something unspeakably dreadful was approaching him. Then came complete darkness and absolute stillness.

CHAPTER 2

The young man, whose name was Ismat, was standing and talking to someone on his mobile phone.

“Mum! That’s enough!” he said, clearly irritated.

With his free hand, he opened the cupboard and pulled out a mug.

A look of perplexity spread across his face as he listened to what she was saying. After a moment of dissatisfaction, he placed the mug on the table.

“Mum! Please, stop!” he pleaded. “What are you talking about? The police can sort it out – it’s their business!”

Listening attentively, he rubbed one eye with his palm. Then he poured the coffee.

“Mum! That sounds like nonsense!” he said, unsure how to end their pointless conversation. “Let’s talk later.”

But his interlocutor insisted. Ismat took a spoonful of instant coffee and stirred it into the mug.

“Okay, Mum. Okay. I’ll… I’m coming, now… As you wish… I’m already on my way. Stay home, lock all the doors, and don’t go out. Do you understand?” His voice grew a little nervous.

Listening again, he poured hot water from the kettle.

“Don’t worry! I’m coming. Bye!” he finished the call.

His mind was full of thoughts as he stirred sugar into the mug. A big sip of coffee might refresh his brain.

Ismat placed the coffee on the table and found the name “Dinara” in his phone contacts.

After several beeps, he said, “Din, hello!”

He paused briefly to gather his thoughts.

“I… I’m sorry, but I‘ll have to take a rain check today.”

He sighed deeply and ran his hand through his hair, tugging it slightly.

“Something’s wrong with my mum! To be more clear… I… I can’t really explain it, Din!” he said, sounding both hastily and apologetically at the same time.

On the other end, he could hear her frustration with his words.

“I can’t explain because I don’t really know. She’s frightened about something. She begged me to come and see and take her away from there. She sounded worried, so I have to go,” he added.

After a brief pause, he continued, “Yeah, you’re right, but listen carefully. The strangest thing is that she told me half the town’s population disappeared last night.”

He nervously took a sip of coffee.

“Yes, and… well, I’m also worried about her. I’d better go over there and see how she is and look around. She mentioned some bright light. I didn’t quite understand what she meant,” he said anxiously.

“No, you don’t have to! I’m going to handle this myself. I’m leaving now and I plan to stay with her this evening. Don’t worry about me.”

He listened on the phone.

“Thanks, sweetheart, don’t worry. I’ll call you when I get there,” bye!” he said softly, almost whispering.

Ismat hung up the phone and, deep in thought, took the last sip of his coffee.

CHAPTER 3

It was already evening when Ismat was still driving on the highway toward the town.

Occasionally, he glanced to the right, where he noticed a picturesque view in the distance. He was navigating a winding mountain road, surrounded by several towering peaks capped with snow.

Sometimes, cars traveling in the opposite direction flashed their headlights, briefly illuminating his windshield.

“Light,” he murmured with a faint grin. “She says there’s something paranormal going on,” he remembered, his mind drifting to his mother.

His car approached a dark tunnel carved through one of the massive mountains.

As he drove through the tunnel, Ismat kept glancing at his watch. When it was nearing 8 p.m., he decided to call his mom.

Slowly, he shoved his right hand into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone.

“The subscriber you’re trying to reach is not currently available,” he heard over the phone.

He threw the phone onto the passenger seat and, gripping the steering wheel firmly, continued his way.

Inside the tunnel, a fog gradually enveloped his car. At first, it resembled a light, decompressed haze that slowly thickened into a dense mist.

Ismat made an effort to slow down. The tunnel felt empty and desolate. Despite the fog, he kept driving and soon noticed a faint light outside.

Finally, the car emerged from the tunnel. Ismat glanced at his mobile screen to check the signal strength.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the phone.

“Mother,” he found her name in the contacts and pressed the call button.

Her number was available. Ismat briefly glanced at the signal indicator, which flickered and then disappeared again. Looking back at the screen, he said softly, “I’m on my way, mommy!”

Ismat placed his mobile on the passenger seat. Usually, he enjoyed listening to the radio or music while driving, and this time was no exception.

He carefully adjusted the car’s player and then pressed the gas pedal down harder.

Approaching the town, Ismat checked his watch. Noticing it was already 9 p.m., he decided to call his mother again.

He reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed his phone.

“The connection is not available,” he read on the screen.

“Muck,” he muttered, commenting on the strange situation.

Finally, Ismat’s car approached the town. He consciously reduced his speed. It was already evening, and the roads in town looked deserted.

Despite this, as Ismat drove past houses with broken windows, he noticed that there was no one inside any of them.

CHAPTER 4

Amanda had been waiting for her son for a long time. In fact, right after he had promised to come over. She was in the darkened room, huddled on the couch, with only the dim glow of a single candle illuminating the space. She was terrified to make a sound. Several times she dared to dial Ismat’s number, but he was always out of reach. She was sitting on the couch, staring at the wall, the insistent tick-tock of the wall clock was the only sound in the oppressive silence.

After several hours in that position, she dozed off when a sound from outside the window startled her. At first, she thought she had heard it in a dream and tried to dismiss it. But something was definitely outside the window, making a strange rustling sound. Uncomprehendingly, Amanda lazily opened her eyes. When she recognized the noise, she shot closer to the wall and pulled the blanket over herself.

“Who’s there?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as she sat on the couch with her knees drawn to her chest and her back pressed against the wall.

She was overwhelmed by fear, unable to scream as the impending dread tightened its grip, paralyzing her. Amanda sat, terrified to move, her breathing becoming rapid gasps.

“Who’s there?” she asked again, wondering if she was still dreaming.

Silence. Only the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock broke the stillness.

She slowly lowered her feet to the floor, feeling the chilling cold beneath them. Amanda scrambled to the table and blew out the candle.

Another rustle pierced the silence.

Amanda began to breathe even faster, her fear mounting. The first thought that seized her was, "They've come to take me, like the others." She slowly crept to the window and stood before it. Her heart pounded with mounting dread, a fear compounded by the unsettling notion of an unseen presence.

Amanda carefully touched the curtain, then slowly began to pull it back. Outside, it was dark and silent. She sighed in momentary relief, but then a luminous, almost blinding light pierced the darkness and struck her eyes.

From that searing contact, she couldn't hold back a scream. With a piercing shriek, she stumbled backward, desperate to escape the room.

* * *

Amanda had no choice but to try to hide in another room. She closed the door, locked it, and sat down in the far corner.

At that moment, someone struck the entrance door with great force. Amanda was gripped by an indescribable fear and felt a sharp pain in her chest. Whoever was trying to break in clearly intended to force the door open.

The figure – or figures – outside touched the handle and tried to open the door. Amanda was shocked and began to wail. The handle rattled violently, as if someone was trying to break it down. Finally, she heard the door give way and someone enter the house.

* * *

It was an unimaginable fear. Amanda had never experienced anything like this before. The terror was something supernatural, especially since many people in the town had disappeared – vanished after encounters with a strange light. What was it? And what did it want from them?

Her legs trembled uncontrollably, and her teeth chattered. Dread overwhelmed her. Her consciousness began to fade as she sat almost motionless in the far corner of her bedroom, waiting for something dreadful – something incomprehensible, unfathomable, maybe even immeasurable.

The creak of wooden floorboards echoed outside the door. Someone was there. Someone was moving and stumbling toward her. It was definitely manlike, or at least humanoid.

At first, a hopeful thought crossed her mind:

“Ismat,” she thought, “he’s come to rescue me.”

But her hope vanished as the figure drew closer to her bedroom door. In the gap between the floor and the door stood something. The gap was illuminated by an eerie light. The creature emitted sounds unlike any human speech – it mooed like a beast.

Amanda pressed her palms tightly over her mouth, desperate not to let out a sound, worst of all – scream.

Her breathing quickened. Suddenly, she heard human footsteps outside again.

“Who’s there?” she shouted.

She clearly heard the steps approaching, but there was no human presence.

“Who is that?” she repeated, pounding on the floor. “What do you want from us?”

There was silence behind the door. Amanda was terrified. Someone touched the handle and tried to open the door. Shocked, she began to wail again. The handle rattled faster and louder, as if someone was trying to break in.

Finally, the door swung open. A bright light flooded the room, and Amanda could only make out a human silhouette.

“Noooooo!” she screamed.

Several shadows entered the bedroom and moved toward her.

“No, please! I beg you!” she cried out into the darkness.

CHAPTER 5

Ismat was already in town.

“Am I too late?” he muttered to himself.

He reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed his mobile phone.

“The connection is not available,” the screen displayed.

“What the hell!” he yelled. “I’d better hurry!”

The car rolled down the empty street. Every building or house looked abandoned, and the main road lay eerily deserted. It was already dark, and the fog hung thick in the air.

“Holy crap!” he cursed again, pressing the accelerator to reach his mother’s house as soon as possible.

Ismat was an excellent driver. In about ten minutes, he was parking in front of his mother’s house. First, he turned off the engine and then got out of the car.

The front door was slightly ajar. Still, he decided to ring the doorbell. He waited patiently for a moment, then pressed the button again.

No one came out to meet him.

“Mom? Are you home?” he called, then pushed the door open.

The hallway was pitch dark. He fumbled for the light switch, but in such darkness, finding it was impossible. Ismat returned to the car and grabbed a flashlight.

Even with the beam cutting through the darkness, he couldn’t see much down the corridor. “Mom? Are you okay?” he called again.

He began to walk slowly down the hallway. Suddenly, the flashlight illuminated a series of strange-looking, dirty footprints on the floor. They didn’t look human.

It seemed someone had been here recently. Ismat followed the footprints, leading to his mother’s bedroom.

“Mom? Are you there?” he called out loudly. No reply.

“Mom! I’m coming in,” he said, shining the flashlight ahead as he entered the room.

From afar, the creak of wooden floorboards echoed.

“Is anyone here?” he asked again, his voice trembling.

Walking cautiously, the flashlight revealed some clothes scattered on the floor at the far end of the room.

Ismat frowned at the sight but took a careful step forward. Halfway there, he felt something sticky under the sole of his shoe. He stopped, standing on a creaky floorboard, and looked down to see green mucus.

He lifted his head and moved toward the clothes.

“Oh, Jesus,” he whispered when he recognized his mother’s clothes. He sat down and noticed they were stained with green sputum.

“What the hell is this?” he muttered to himself, shining the flashlight over the clothes.

“Jesus,” he breathed, swallowing hard as a lump formed in his throat. His fingers trembled slightly as he touched the fabric.

“What the hell is happening here?” he asked aloud.

He scanned the room several times, then threw the clothes aside.

“Jesus!” he shouted, stepping back.

Overcome with rage and fear, Ismat grabbed his head with both hands, spun around, and shouted, “Who is this? What is happening here?”

“Damn! Damn! Damn!” he yelled, pounding the floor with his right foot.

Suddenly, he turned sharply and ran out of the bedroom.

CHAPTER 6

Fear. It was irresistible, inscrutable fear. Desperation over his inability to save his mother, hopelessness from the eerie emptiness of the abandoned town, and misery weighing heavily on his heart.

Ismat fled the house into the yard as rain began to fall.

“Moooom!” he shouted into the dark night. Only his rapid, ragged breaths answered him.

He scanned the surroundings, hoping to spot someone alive. Occasionally, he grabbed his hair and moaned in anguish.

“Where are you?” he screamed. “Is anyone alive? What the hell is going on here?”

Ismat shone his pocket flashlight everywhere, rushing about in desperate hope.

He ran out onto the street and stood near the gate, looking for some sign of life.

There was no one. Only the hiss of the wind.

“Damn! Damn! Damn!” he shouted.

“Is anyone hearing me?” he called out. His voice echoed back at him.

He decided to run, fighting off the creeping madness while lighting the path ahead with his flashlight. Soon, the rain poured down heavily.

On the roadside lay scattered human clothes. Moments later, Ismat was already sprinting deeper into the town. It was pitch dark, and he could barely see the road, running blindly. No lights shone from the windows. It seemed the town had been asleep for a long time.

From time to time, Ismat glanced back and saw horrible figures trailing behind, but they stayed further and further away. It was likely just his imagination, fueled by overwhelming dread.

Abruptly and unexpectedly, Ismat stumbled on a slippery, muddy patch on the road. The raindrops pelted him so hard they stung his head and shoulders. He dislocated his shoulder badly.

“F*ck!” he shouted in sharp pain. He tried to pop his shoulder back into place but couldn’t.

Something on the muddy path caught his attention.

He shone his flashlight on it with his free hand. Those were human clothes and old rags. He frowned and stepped closer. Scattered everywhere along the roadside were these items – and strange mucus.

“What the hell?” fear and bewilderment filled his eyes.

He began to back away slowly, but when he heard an odd noise nearby, he looked to the side with wide eyes – then ran away.

CHAPTER 7

At last, Ismat reached his car. The rain was pouring so heavily that the mud was extremely slippery. He opened the door sharply and plunged inside.

The engine didn’t start at first. Ismat took his mobile in his trembling hand and tried to turn it on. The screen was black – it was dead.

“Holy…” he began hysterically. “F*ck you all!”

Overwhelmed by nerves and fear, he threw his phone down and quickly shifted into reverse, not wanting to waste time. He made a sharp maneuver onto the road, then switched into first gear and began to leave that strange place.

Ismat pressed the gas pedal hard with his right foot. He wanted to get out of town as fast as possible.

At the first crossroads, he slightly adjusted the rearview mirror . He shivered when he saw his pale face staring back, eyes red and rimmed with exhaustion. Several gray hairs stood out on his head.

The car passed down the empty street. The buildings still looked abandoned, and the main road was again eerily deserted.

Ismat stared at every house, hoping to see someone alive.

Suddenly, through a broken window on the first floor, he spotted a figure stepping out.

It looked like a male silhouette or maybe just a shadow cast by the car’s headlights. It all happened so fast that Ismat thought it might be his imagination running wild.

Suddenly, his car struck something. Ismat’s eyes darted to the road.

At first, he worried he might have hit someone.

“Damn!” he shouted, then opened the car door.

He rushed out, and what he saw made his heart pound faster and harder. He knelt down to inspect the damaged wheel.

A strange howl echoed nearby.

He jumped to his feet and looked around, but no one was there. Still, he clearly heard something. An overwhelming sense of evil filled him.

Taking a deep breath, Ismat frowned and peered ahead. He noticed a man in the distance entering a house.

“Hey!” Ismat shouted. “Wait for me!”

“Talk to me!” he called, running after the figure.

At last, Ismat reached the door the man had entered.

He touched the handle and pushed it open. The house was empty and dark.

“Is anyone here?” he asked, afraid to go inside.

“I saw you!” he added. “I need help! My mom…” he wanted to explain but saw no one.

He realized he had no choice but to search for the man – if he didn’t, barely God would give him another chance.

Gathering courage, Ismat crossed the threshold and stepped inside the abandoned house.

Darkness and gloom surrounded him. He moved slowly, afraid to bump into something.

Finally, he reached a long corridor. First, he looked left, then right.

An odd shadow stood far away, then vanished somewhere deeper inside. Ismat didn’t understand what it was but was sure it didn’t look human.

“Hey!” Ismat shouted.

“Wait for me!” he commanded, quickly moving toward the creature.

Eventually, he reached a room that was brighter than the others, lit by moonlight, and stepped inside.

The room was empty. Moving deeper, Ismat noticed mucus smeared on the walls and piles of clothes scattered on the floor.

Without realizing it, he came closer to a broken window.

“What the hell?” he muttered, looking through the shattered glass.

He looked back.

“I know you’re here! I saw you!” he said, his voice trembling.

In the distance, a strange sound echoed – a loud moaning then a groan. It was neither human, nor animal. He couldn’t identify it.

Ismat dared to leave the room. The groans grew louder.

Approaching the sound, he touched something on the floor. Looking down, he saw a doll covered in green mucus with a foul smell.

Ismat immediately dropped it.

The moaning grew louder and louder.

“Who’s there?” he shouted. “What the hell is happening here? Answer me, now!” he demanded, waiting for a response.

After several seconds, he started moving again. The strange sounds continued. One of his hands was extended forward, trembling and twitching.

At last, he reached the doorstep.

He looked down and saw that the room was brightly illuminated. It seemed to be filled with many light projectors.

With shaking hands, he carefully touched the door handle and slowly began to open it.

The creak of the opening door frightened him even more.

No one was inside – only a blinding white light.

The groans grew louder and louder until finally, the source was right in front of him.

Shouting in terror, Ismat sharply turned around and ran toward the exit, desperate to escape death.

* * *

Ismat rushed out of the building. His car was parked right in front. He dove inside and started the engine. Forgetting to lock the driver’s door, he shifted into first gear and pressed the gas pedal. After several skids as the wheels slipped on the wet asphalt, the car finally surged forward.

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” he screamed.

It was a chase – a terrifying pursuit. Something or someone enormous was following him.

A white light pursued him relentlessly.

“Jesus! Jesus!” he cried, occasionally glancing over his shoulder while driving. But the light only drew closer and closer.

“What is that?” he wondered, losing his wits.

Then, looking straight ahead through the windshield, he saw the light directly in front of him. Panicking, Ismat swerved sharply to the right. His car veered off the road and plunged down the mountainside.

* * *

There are many reports of UFO sightings in the Caucasus region.

In 1988, September 9, in the UFO-active zone of the Caucasus – the volcanic Kum-tube plateau near the Chegen River in the Chegen Gorge and Side Ridge in Kabardino-Balkaria – between 8 and 9 p.m., staff from the Sevkavhydrometn glaciological expedition witnessed an elongated chain of five glowing balls, each about 2–3 meters in diameter, appearing above the plateau. Around midnight, visitors at a local campsite saw five balloons arranged in two rows – three on top and two below.

September 6, 1989, late in the evening, a team of glaciologists photographed a white, glowing, spherical object over the same volcanic massif.

March 27, 1990, around midnight, an airship-like object glowing with yellow-orange light was seen over the volcanic massif. Witnesses observed it emit a thin blue beam before it disappeared behind a nearby ridge.

June 3 of the same year, a glowing dome of bright yellow color with a red border appeared over Kum-tube. It hovered in the air for about 30 minutes.

Eyewitnesses were unable to take photographs because the intense brightness always overexposed the film.

THE SCIENCE TRIP

CHAPTER 1

“Got it!” William exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a spot on the computer monitor displaying an open map.

“What are you talking about?” asked a tall, blonde woman, her curiosity piqued.

“This is my chance!” he replied, still focused on the map.

“Oh, William,” Linda said, shaking her head, “you always come up with something crazy.”

“But I’m absolutely sure there could be a natural oil leak here, from the earth to the river surface,” he insisted, eager to prove his point.

“I believe you, but why hasn’t anyone found any oil here before?” Linda asked, crossing her arms over the chest.

“Because no one has ever looked there,” William replied, spinning around in his chair to face his wife.

“I’ve been searching for a promising site like this for a long time, and now I’m convinced we can find oil here and become part of the team that discovers a new field,” William said, his eyes shining with excitement.

Linda listened attentively, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Why don’t you believe me?” William asked, his eyes wide with bewilderment.

“Because I’m married to a madman,” she teased, leaving the room.

“Thank you, my lovely and only wife,” William muttered to himself.

“I heard that!” Linda called from the corridor.

“Oh, women!” William sighed deeply and turned back to the monitor.

“This is my chance,” he whispered, tracing his finger over the map. “I’m sure.”

By way of introduction, William was a university lecturer at the local Oil and Gas University. He was thirty-three years old, tall, slim, and blond – these were the only features that set him apart. His lifelong dream was to earn a PhD, and he was determined to achieve it by discovering a new oil field. For six years, he had been working on this idea, searching for any evidence of oil leaks, poring over old documents and geological maps. That morning, he finally felt he had a breakthrough.

“Okay, okay,” Linda said, suddenly re-entering the room. “When?” she asked, her eyes full of skepticism.

“What do you mean ‘when,’ darling?” William replied, surprised.

“And with whom?” she continued, staring into his eyes.

“Tomorrow! Tomorrow I’ll discuss it with Head of Department and think it over, so I suppose I can give you a definite answer then,” William said.

“I suppose you’re planning an expedition without any female colleagues,” Linda said, frowning at him.

“Yeah, thanks for the advice. Without them, it would be so boring,” he joked.

“I’m serious!” she replied, perplexed.

“Of course not!” he laughed. “But…” He was about to continue, but Linda cut him off.

“No more ‘buts,’” she said, moving closer and kissing him passionately.

CHAPTER 2

“Today you learned how oil is formed,” William said to the group of first-year geology students. “Our class is over – you’re free to go.”

The students immediately jumped up from their desks and hurried out of the classroom. Watching them rush out as if escaping from prison, William couldn’t help laughing.