In addition to the unpleasant appearance of the former store, it smelled disgusting, like a mixture of rotten fish, musk, and ammonia. And the source of the smell came from two fallen refrigerators. It even overpowered the faint smell of decomposition.
Before the disaster, their glass sliding doors had held drinks, and there they were, all lying around, mostly hidden by rags and cobwebs. Then the refrigerators fell over, ripping out the doors and pouring out some kind of gray-green, nauseating-smelling liquid in which big brown balls the size of footballs were peeking through.
"Okay, there's nothing useful here, if I go in later and rummage around in the pantry, maybe the smell will get out. I can take this hanger, though, I don't care if it's demi-seasonal and winter clothes.
There was one of the cocoons hanging beside the long floor hanger, and I had it pulled down and thrown aside to make it easier for me to take things off. But as soon as the golems tore it off, tearing off some of the webbing, I screamed at the top of my lungs:
- Hold him down! Keep him safe!
It was because I heard a groan and a foot in a leather boot with a cushioned toe and a piece of chainmail on the shank protruded from beneath the layer of cobwebs.
I spent the next twenty minutes examining the cocoons on the wall and on the floor. Most contained zombies, three were clearly office earthlings and normal earthlings, not zombified, at the time they hit the creatures' tentacles. Unfortunately, they didn't need my help. Another seven I classified as fellow reenactors for their distinctive appearance: chain mail, armor, leather armor, empty sword scabbards, and sheaths with daggers and knives. Two were dead, but five, though they looked dead, had barely a pulse. Four bearded men and a fair-skinned woman no older than thirty. She was the only one dressed in plain clothes without a single plate of metal from the armor. A light shirt, a jacket of shiny soft cloth of light brown, tight pants of the same cloth but a slightly darker shade, boots of frayed suede. The clothes were decorated with silver embroidery and small badges of shiny metal and wood.
After I'd thrown a mountain of things into the cabin, I used the golems to carry the men into the car and lay them down, and then I raced back. The golems moved on their own, with the samurai dragging Chappy, who had no legs.
"I met the Sobol with the scouts halfway to the bridge. The car was stuck among the zombies, and just one golem could not cope with the influx of dozens of creatures. My help was very useful to them.
- Where the hell have you been? - hissed the fire mage maliciously. - I've got two wounded inside... torn by zombies while they were looking for you.
- Don't be mad," - I reassured him. - I was rescuing people.
- Who?
- People. Oliver Wilson comrades, I guess. At least they're dressed in armor, like his crew. I can't ask," - I beat him to the question. - They are unconscious.
- Well, we'll see about that later. I'm sorry I yelled," - he sighed, - "but I used up all my reserve while I was looking for you and the boys. Mia was out of arrows, and we ran into two more shadows. And then we really clamped, we thought we had to throw everything and tear on foot with the wounded in his arms.
On the bridge the first thing the commander gave us a hard time, mostly for me, turning such a trick that my ears were folded in a cot. When he had finished swearing, he got into the loaf van.
- Nah, I don't know them," - he denied the unknowns after a quick look around. - They are strange too.
- Strange how?
- I can't tell," - he shook his shoulder. I've never seen armor like that before. And all these bits of chainmail plastered all over the place? They're like roleplayers, not reenactors.
- Well, maybe that's what they are. - I asked.
- I don't think so... they don't look like them. Rebuilders use aluminum and textolite, they use plastic, and they put silver paint on everything. There's even bronze here, and the daggers are decent enough, and they're homemade...see the hammer marks? - He snapped his finger at the weapon.
- We'll give them to Lucas, and let him bring them to sense, but take away the weapons and all the armor, - said Eduard. - What do you think, Oliver?
- Let's put them in a separate room, for safety's sake. You never know what will happen to their heads after the bite.
===End Chapter===