Немного личной мифологии одного мизантропа (в переводе)

... а конкретно - Алекса Фриера. Кто читал классный зомби постап от Талани Кросс, тот помнит этого мужика. Алекс на первый взгляд типичный рэднек (даром, что бывший учитель), но очень чОткий мужик. Характер у него хоть и не сахар, но и башка на плечах есть (не все мозги пропил), и понятия. Вот тем он, наверное, и берёт - по понятиям живёт, даже когда мир вокруг катится к чёрту. 

***

“As for justice…” Alex was silent for a bit, mincing his words. “I think whatever happens in this world is a direct result of people’s actions. Let’s take environmental pollution. Whose fault is that? Is only some rich fat guy to blame for dumping waste in the river? Or is every one of us somewhat guilty? Perhaps, that’s where our kids’ diseases come from – something they don’t deserve, but their parents do. What if we’re responsible not just for ourselves? Perhaps, we’re responsible for everything we do. What if we’re sharing some mutual fault? Collective responsibility of the sort…”

 “Your concept of justice is so perverted I don’t even feel like continuing this conversation.” 

“You don’t get where I’m going, do you?” 

Christine perceived this question as rhetorical. The pause lasted for half a minute before he started talking again:

“I’m Alex Frier. Whatever happens, the Grim Reaper ain’t getting me willingly. I’m not gonna put a bullet in my head, got it? But if one of these bastards bites me…” 

It suddenly dawned on her.  

“No-no-no, don’t even ask!” she protested. 

“You silly girl,” he said almost tenderly. “You’ll have to ‘take care’ of me, see?” 

“No,” she shook her head. “No, absolutely not. I don’t want to. And I won’t! Besides…” she wanted to say that nothing like that was ever going to happen, but Alex went ahead.

“At some point that’s exactly what’s going to happen, probably. I ain’t some doomwatcher…” he said, looking at Christine as she snorted skeptically. “Yeah-yeah, I ain’t pessimistic, but,” he took another swig, “but I don’t believe I’m gonna die an old man warm in my bed. Of course, if such a bite could be treated with Band-Aid, I’d ask for one. But this shit is more complicated…”

Suddenly she wasn’t angry anymore. Irrational sadness dulled all other emotions – sadness that something hadn’t happened yet but might happen in the future. She realized, that almost everyone she’d known was already dead, but for some reason the thought was easier than the one Alex just spoke out. 

I don’t believe I’m gon’na die an old man warm in my bed.

This meant that at some point her life would come to an unpleasant end. Her hopes for a normal life, which dwelled like a mirage in the farthest corners of her mind, just collapsed. 

“I ain’t religious,” right now Alex’s annoyingly loud voice sounded almost like rolling thunder to her. “I consider suicide to be selfishness and silliness, not sin. Though selfishness mixed with silliness is a sin by default,” a grin distorted the right half of his face, but the next moment he was dead serious again. “Perhaps, there are exceptions, but I don’t want to end up like this. I don’t know when and how my time will come, but I wan’na know you’ll do whatever's necessary, if you have to. Of course, if there’ll be no one around, I’ll do everything myself, but…” he shook the bottle, “that would be humiliating. I’d rather die giving death the finger, with both of my hands, then hold a gun to my head. Got that?”

***

Ну и авторский портрет персонажа прилагается.