"FWLS64" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

shouting half-coherent bawls of rage. They attacked anything;
potted plants, dead bodies, wall decorations of reindeer and happy
little elves. One group was singing carols around a stack of
burning shopping bags... I tried to ignore the leg sticking out
from the bottom of the blaze.

Another chainsaw guy walked alongside us, keeping the horde at
bay as we made our way... wherever we were going. Occasionally a
half-mad shopper would run in front of Oswald, shouting the ravings
of the truly disturbed; Oswald would frown slightly, point, and the
offending shopper's head would roll away so we could continue.

Eventually we reached the Fountain Nexus, which was already
tainted from the two bodies floating face down in it. This was the
pride and joy of the mall, with tasteful flower arrangements (now
mangled) and nice patterned carpeting (stained beyond recognition).
Plus, the Crystal Elevator, a gleaming glass crystal with expensive
carpet flooring sliding up and down its shaft, carrying shoppers
between floors.

It seemed stuck between floors at the moment, empty and
waiting. I had never seen the elevator STUCK; it was controlled by
computer, and couldn't break down. Oswald walked with me to the
first floor elevator stop, and whistled a completely non-catchy
tune.

"Audio control," he said. "Same as the doors, I think...
somewhat ironic, I suppose."

The elevator slid to a halt before us, doors sliding open.
Oswald ignored any attempts by me to protest and stepped inside.
He held the door open with one hand and turned to our armed escort.

"Make the final loots quick and easy," he said. "Then hole up
in Unpainted Chairs and Tables until morning. I'll be on right
here if you need me."

"Right, boss," the sawman said, nodding in salute and walking
away. Oswald tapped the door close button and the button for floor
two.

The elevator lurched to a start, and slid silently up the
tube. When it was halfway up, he whistled another completely
tuneless tune and the elevator stopped.

He picked up a pair of scissors from the ground, and split the
plastic strip that kept us locked together. I dashed to the other
side of the elevator, massaging my wrist.

"Something wrong?" he asked, setting the scissors down.