Экзекутор и зомбиапокалипсис (в переводе)

Что, не ждали, да?:)

Ну, Экзекутор   Марики в дополнительном представлении не нуждается. А вот спорим, не все из вас знают, что там есть элементы зомби постапа? На одной милой планетке под названием Итбрен, где должно было состояться прогрессорское спасение местного человечества... Так что кому там не нравилась экспансия Сэмлы - бывает ещё вот так. 

А ещё Марика - иллюстратор. Местами весьма психоделичный (за что и любим), но иллюстратор:). Авторский арт по Итбрену прилагается.

Кстати, трилогия "Империя Джи" - один из моих основных переводческих проектов:), промежуточные результаты можно посмотреть по ссылкам:

https://author.today/work/14381  - Рождение

https://author.today/work/11039 - Смерть

***

He unblocked the door and slipped on the stairway, wincing because his clothes were clinging to his body; then, he barricaded the entrance again. Val was going nowhere fast—he should sleep for at least another couple of hours. But even if he decided to leave, Stiv would know—the loud rumble of the entrance being unblocked would alarm him. And no psycho would actually try to get inside; after all, he killed the last of them yesterday...  

 Heavy clouds hung in the sky forming solid coils and blurring all the sounds, pressing on his head. The angry sun was desperately trying to pierce through the cloud blanket and burn the survivors with its scorching rays. And the air was filled with the ever-present stench of decomposing flesh... 

 All the remaining survivors had fled the cities in their attempts to evade the disease, inevitably spreading it further. 

Well, now we’ve done it. Some conquerors of the Universe we are. So much for our games and inventions... We did, in fact, find a way to scare our enemies to death, only now almost everyone dies. Some good intentions these are! «Do not interfere until the planet’s population hits the critical point!» So that later on, people would recall their stupidity with dread, ever-grateful to their savior angels, who creeped out of their portals just in time and brought peace and prosperity. Yeah, right... The angels have shit themselves, screwed up, missed the moment. While we were calculating everything, balancing it up, planning, waiting, the revolutionaries managed to scare the government, while the government scared the neighbors, who then hit the button—and here it is. The perfect plan went down the drain. 

 Stiv was one of the «angels» who lived here secretly. He barely managed to grab the future messiah out of his grave and now dragged him through the dying world practically on his back. 

 It was especially unpleasant to walk through the empty cities. He grew tired of scanning the abandoned buildings, but that’s where the almost-dead sometimes hid, and he really didn’t feel like meeting them. He couldn’t cure them, and he’d long grown sick of killing them. Now, he tried to avoid them. However, he was so tired that sometimes he actually missed the weak signals. Either one at a time or in small groups, they would show up in the clearances between the buildings, howling and weeping, closing in on him, or dragging behind him with their slurred pleas for help, death, or food. They were stinky and sticky, gushing pus and urine, their skin bubbling, turning into jelly, their liquefying bodies shedding pieces of flesh from underneath their clothes...