from the crowd.

- Tom knows how to appease a woman!

- Yes, is it a woman?

Tom was all covered with sweat, his muscles tightened to the limit. His breathing became loud, he roared like a bear. And then he closed his eyes, slowed down, and then with several sharp movements he pressed the slender body of the projection into the soft covering of the sofa. He accompanied it with loud cries and squeezed the neck of his victim so that veins appeared on his forearms. He could, through carelessness, just break her neck.

- Ue-ee! - He cried out, holding up his hands and pulling a member of the vagina, from which a thin stream of oozing tom seed. - Fourth time!

He picked up a piece of black matter from the floor, on the outline of which I guessed that it was a dressing dress, and wiped a member of it. And then he turned and, without even looking in the direction of the girl, moved aside and began to dress. She lay on the couch and, fortunately, was breathing. This is probably all that could be said about her.

The guys got dressed and began to decide what to do next.

- We will pay her? - I heard a voice.

- Well, maybe it? Who will she complain to?

Tom turned round and said loudly:

- We had a deal with her, then we pay! - he looked around all those present, and no one decided to argue with him. The guys collected money, put it in the pocket of the girl's sundress, somehow lifted her off the couch and tried to convey to her that it was time to leave. With great difficulty, she pulled a crumpled and dirty sarafan over herself, sat on the edge of the sofa and stared into the corner with an empty look, ceasing to react to what was happening.

“Is she normal?”

- Yes, she is fine, what will happen to her?

- Have you seen how much she drank before sex? Miracle that she did not fall asleep in the process.

- Yes, and in the process she drank a lot. And I'm not talking about drinking.

Wild laughter.

Tom turned away contemptuously and walked away from the room. One of the guys hoisted the girl on his shoulder, the others collected garbage, turned off the lights and left the room.

I got out of the warehouse without incident in the same way as I got here. Hiding now in the shade of a tree, I watched from a distance for a noisy company, going home. The moon was hiding behind the clouds, so I was not afraid to be noticed. From my seat, the entrance to the warehouse, lit by a lantern, was clearly visible, and I tried not to lose sight of the projection that was peacefully resting on the shoulder of one of the guys. Three aircraft flew out of the warehouse, and two of them soon sped off toward the city. Only three people remained before the entrance, and they apparently decided what to do with the girl. Finally, the one that held her on his shoulder, walked in my direction. I held my breath, stepping into an even thicker shadow, and he stopped at about ten paces. There on the sidewalk lay a concrete slab, on which he sat the girl. She did not say anything, but simply sat, gawking her barely glowing eyes in the dark.

“Well listen,” the boyfriend who brought her said. - Everything is fair, right? Your money is in your pocket, and we guys are fair. So don't be angry with us, frets?

Silence in response.

“Hey,” he touched the girl by the shoulder. “You know English a bit, don't you?” You should get home. Where do you live?

“Hey, Pete,” one of those standing near the car shouted. “Will you be there soon?”

“Okay, we have to go,” said Pete. - Then you yourself already. Lada? Damn you, say a word!

“Bastard,” the girl said quietly, in a pro-style manner. Of course, Pete didn't understand anything, and walked away. The car flew away, and soon everything was quiet.

I waited ten minutes, not daring to move.When the moon once again appeared from behind a cloud, I came out of my refuge and began to slowly approach. I was afraid to scare the girl, so I tried not to make sharp movements. She looked almost at me and seemed not to notice. When I came very close, there could be no doubt - something was wrong with her. The glass look, and she has been sitting in one pose for ten minutes. I quietly greeted her in English: zero reaction. Then I addressed her in her language:

- Good evening.

The sounds of the native language as if brought her out of stupor. She awoke from dreams and looked at me. Her eyes glowed a greenish tinge, and her skin color in the light of the moon was no different from human. She could have been mistaken for a dugout if it were not for the elongated shape of the ears and bulging eyebrows typical of her race. Short reddish hair was disheveled, a black little sundress several sizes larger than it was ridiculous to sit on a small figure.

She put her hand to her chin, a protational gesture that meant a greeting.

“Let me help you,” I said. - Where do you live? Do you take you home?

Getting up from the concrete slab, she looked around in confusion. She looked rather helpless. And then she told me in a voice full of despair:

- What am I doing here?

“You were at the party, you ...” I began to explain to her, assuming she had forgotten everything.

- I know. I say, what am I doing HERE? - she looked around the neighborhood, the sky, the stars. - I want to go home.

“Tell me where you live,” I said. - I'll call you a taxi.

“No,” she said in a soft and already more calm voice. “I want to go home,” she looked at the sky again.

“I can help you,” I said, without thinking of anything better. It must have sounded not very encouraging.

“I want to go home,” she repeated again, “but I can't get home.”

- Why?

She waved her hand and wandered along the road towards the city. I followed her, and somewhere about three hundred meters we passed in silence. Suddenly she began to limp, and then suddenly fell from the height of her height. I rushed to her.

The girl was lying on the pavement, arms outstretched, and it seemed as if she was absorbing the moonlight. The skin looked paler than before, in some places on the hands and forehead veins appeared. The eyelids were open, but the glow of the eyes had completely disappeared. I frantically began to grope her pulse, but I could not imagine where to look for him at procy, and whether he should be at all. Having brought my face closer to her, I caught a barely perceptible breath, uneven, transient and threatening to break off. I panicked. Lord, Lord, just don't die. I do not know you at all, but I will not abandon you. Please do not die. Think, Zoe, what to do.

My first rush was to call Steve. He is the only person of those whom I trust and who is relatively close. But getting the phone, I stopped. And what, in fact, will help Steve? No, this poor thing needs medical attention. So I dialed 911, explained to them where I was, and said that she had found an unconscious girl on the road.

Very soon, a police car flew up to the scene, from which two boorish cops got out. One slowly approached me, gave me a haughty look, lit a cigarette, and only then looked down at the girl. He peered at her face, probably for a minute, then whistled, called the second, and they departed to confer. Then the first approached me, and the second at this time somewhere made a phone call.
“Ma'am,” the first cop turned to me, chewing on a cigarette and puffing smoke almost in my face. - Do you know the victim?
- No, I ... Will you help her?
- Do you know the victim? - he raised his voice.
- No, I do not know. I was walking along the road and saw the body. I...
“Thank you,” he interrupted me. - We take care of her.

The second cop came up, these two picked up the girl from the ground, and carried her to the aeromobile.

“Wait, gentlemen,” I said. - Do not you wait for an ambulance? 911 should have sent an ambulance.
- All ambulances are busy.We ourselves will take her to the hospital - they opened the door and threw the motionless body into the back seat.

Having got into the car, they quickly drove off towards the city. I thought very tightly, but still the behavior of these two seemed suspicious to me. But what could I do? We had to see their badges. On the other hand, what would I do if they refused to show them to me?

Sitting on the curb, I tried to put my thoughts in order. My head was spinning, I lay back on the grass, and the space around me began to move. My eyes were closed, but I felt that everything around me was floating and spinning. Alcohol, malnutrition and stress — all of this has turned out to be too much for me in the last few days, and I have disconnected.

I woke up at three o'clock when the moon rose high. His head was spinning, and gusts of vomiting were approaching his throat. Getting up on all fours, I crawled to the edge of the road and made a good shot. My head began to crack, but after ten minutes it became really easier for me. I caught my breath and wiped my lips with the leaf of the plantain from the curb, I got up and lit a cigarette. Another fucking adventure.

I got home in about forty minutes. The coolness of the night refreshed my head, and when I opened the door, I already clearly knew what I would do next. I decided that it all went to hell. Along with this fucking motel, its inhabitants, its stench and dirt. Local cops and workers. This area and this air. Along with Tom and the other lustful bastards like him. Away. I am going away. I want to go back to space. I do not know yet how I will return there, but I firmly know that I am ready to fight for him.

I typed Steve. His sleepy voice immediately became more cheerful as soon as he understood what I wanted from him.

- Hello. I need you to come.

- Um ... Who is this?

- This is Zoe. Can you come now?

He faltered, then laughed.

- Wait. What time is it?

- Four in the morning. Steve, I need you to come now.

- Okay. Getting dressed. Something happened?

- Yes and no. I'll tell you on the way.

- Are we going somewhere?

- Fly. To Ireland. You yourself offered.

He paused and laughed.
“You know, Zoe, you're not bored with you.” Chicago canceled?
- Yes, I am not ready to meet my parents yet.
- Well, now I will.