Читаю сегодня в классе вот это. Ужасно недовольна. Типа было задание по ритмике песни "Painkiller" от рок-группы Judas Priest. Ну, и я типа сделала по ней, но прям в последний момент и не успела подтянуть ритмику, как надо. У меня ещё есть много идей, что с этим сделать.

Внимание! Это уже прям спойлер к 4-й книге. Краткое пояснение: весь замес происходит на космической станции, где Брайан работает барменом, и Картер немножко прилетел к нему в гости. А тут на них внезапно напали пираты, которые типа хотят спиздить энерго-генераторы. Потому что это дело дорогое, и чем меньше станция, тем легче её ограбить. Обычно...

Ещё маленькое пояснение: поскольку Картер нихуя не умеет драться, его на время всего замеса посадили в бункер вместе с пацаном 4-хеткой. И это как бы... Ну, обидно, да? 😂

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Twenty riders hovered above the docks. The scooters were big. Not just big. They were heavy steel beasts. Their enormous battery tanks, a pair of fucking caskets, glued to each side of the vehicle! Carter gasped. He'd seen those before. Fuck! He has! The fight-camp guards in Peru! The big brutes with endless gun power! Can't be a thing here, right? No! Not here! Not when they're, what, only some million of light-years away from Earth, right? This couldn't be those guys! Right? Right? Fuck! Those guys were bad news!
Bad. Bad! Superbad!
Really fucking bad.
Shit, Carter thought. He's gotta tell Brian! But how? Fuck!
The riders hovered. Still. Ominous. Ready to strike, but hesitant.
"What are they waiting for?" Carter asked. He counted five more of them farther up in the sky.
"Scanning the bay," said Keyroh. "See, the pirates always wanna get inside the station. Plunder the deep vaults."
"So what do we do?" asked Carter.
He glanced at Keyroh, who sat comfortably on his bunk, hugging the toy-robots. How's the kid not shaking? A couple of those heavily armed brutes meant instant death back on Earth. But twenty five of them? Man!
"We do what everybody does: lay traps for them in the docs!" said the boy.
"Do we?" Carter asked him. "Have traps?"
"Yes, yes!" said the boy. "We do have traps! Look! Over there!"
He pointed a finger in between two space-boats, just a few feet under one group of attackers. There was something there. Glued to the side of the boat, hiding from view. A gaunt silhouette of a man. Extremely light-armored, a kamikaze type of guy. Keyroh zoomed in. Carter gasped, "Fuck!" and shut his eyes for a second.
"Don't worry, they're dead meat already!" said the kid, beaming. "Gonna be a snap! Just you watch! Uncle Brian rocks!"
"Fucking weirdo," Carter whispered. He stood in the centre of the room, squinting his eyes from the blinding light, the whole battlefield projected onto his body. Hands shaking. Heart pounding, a crazy drum, trying to rip through his skin.
"Zoom in," he told the kid, his voice barely coming out. Keyroh did as he was told. He zoomed in, and then some more. He didn't stop until they could see the colour of Brian's eyes through his light helmet. The two bright green sparkling voids filled with madness. Death. Ready to be unleashed on the bad guys. Carter had never seen him like this. It was his Brian. His best friend. The man he'd thought he knew. For years. That Brian Twist. And still not quite. This man was a killer. He was going to kill all twenty five of them, and all those who'd come for rescue. Carter had no idea how Brian was gonna do it, but he trusted that spark of wildfire in his eyes and a faint tug of a smile on Brian's lips. This man was gonna kill a squad of twenty-five fully armored battle-scooter riders. And he was gonna laugh about it. Carter shivered.
"Can we get sound?" he asked the kid.
"Sure thing!" said Keyroh.

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