Purgatory result. Igor Pronin - Purgatory. Vikhid. Final rating: all points

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Vіdguk buv spellings above rik that. I am reviewing the first literary project of Sergiy Tarmashev “Purgatory”.

Igor Pronin. "Vykhid."

Abstract:

During the first days of infection, residents of Moscow gathered together at the pen, trying to resist the human mutants. Most of them have never touched a bird in their hands before, and only those groups that are heavily loaded with stones on Major Beloglazov’s guide can be insured at a reasonable price. Coming to war with monsters comes at the cost of great sacrifices, and help never comes. A great place, beyond chaos and death, becomes an arena where people try to achieve their right to live in the new world...

The infection has begun.

A novel from the “zombie shooter” genre, which opens the inter-author cycle, has hit bookstore shelves. It would have seemed like a long time ago to harp on the topic of the Mertz, about which everything that is possible has already been said and re-said. Maybe this novel brought something new to the genre? Let's figure it out.
Of course, as usual, from the lining. To say that there is nothing to say. Ugly, annoying, second-rate, and still doesn’t represent even one episode of the text. Of course, we can sum up the rest of the novel, but again, the heroes of the book are infected, there are no costumes on them.
Let's turn the cover over... Milk! On the page where they announce new novels from the “Purgatory” series, the two are entitled the book “Pavutina”, which never came out in the series, and it is not just two, but authored by two different people. Ok, reach! Before the speech, let’s go a little deeper with the text, because “Vykhod” has the same style that I want to see a prize.
Torknemosya obov'yazkovo text. It’s been a long time since we’ve been so bothered by clicking on “Peredistoriya” for hours. The text has a lot of repetition, the brightest butt: the word “rizhok”. Why can’t it be added with a synonym? "Store", for example. And insignificant drukarskie meeks, on kshtalt: “he took the machine gun.” A bunch of bloopers. Once again, we point to the most beautiful example: A group of people who have seen, on vantage, breaks through Moscow teeming with mutants. One monster strips the body of the van. The hero fires the machine gun and, when the shooting ends, throws the kill, grabbing the carbine. After a paragraph, we can create a great picture, in which main character multiply by zero the enemy behind the help of the machine.
You can say what is the fault of production (or rather, the people who work on it: proofreaders, editors). It’s just like that. For the sake of his readers, the author can create an elementary first-hand reader himself.
Well, let's move on to the place?
The book tells the full story of the survival of many groups of people who are eager to flock together for the sake of a dream, a dream of the future. The author did not bring any new innovations to the genre, but rather competently played with the original template. Enjoy it simply, with relish. The dynamics of the plot are the lines of the heroes, their characters, the past, the past, today, and the future. The characters are rated “excellently”. Much sagging, no “cardboard” (blames, other characters). Igor Pronin has the ability to create ideas that the founder of the series could not achieve. It’s wise to create genuine, living heroes, without any acknowledgment it would look like shit. I’m not overreacting to them, just because spoilers will inevitably occur, and we, apparently, can do without them (as a matter of fact).
Ale, it’s a great pity that it’s so dark. I thought more about bloopers and friends' favors. But God bless them, but the author has managed to withhold the confession. One line breaks, another begins, breaks, turns... It’s closed, which brings a sense of boredom.
However, this opus is not at all vile. Vin is cool in his own way. As you can see from the richness of the stories, people read books that were similar to the first part of Tarmashev, but it turned out completely differently. Why is it good? Perfect! Are cross-author projects currently underway? That’s right, in order to highlight one view from many sides, from different points of view, and Pronin’s novel is clearly to marvel at the problem of the Epidemic not through the optical sight of a screwed-on screw, but through the gaze of a simple huge person who was caught in halepu.

We see a couple of mistakes for the sake of the “Purgatory” project itself:

1. The speckled climate does not equal contamination, as Sergiy Tarmashev himself said.
2. A mutant cannot live without back ends, like the walking sage from the series of the same name.

Visnovok: A wonderful novel. Garni, living heroes. You want to believe their stories, you worry about them, you live alongside them, you stand shoulder to shoulder at the hour of the storm from Moscow.

Plot: this score is on a ten-point scale.

Light: all points on a ten-point scale.

Characters: nine points on a ten-point scale.

The quality of the wood is: six points on a ten-point scale.

Overall rating: all points.

Purgatory - 2

Other works written by Russian science fiction writers for the inter-author cycle, and their stories, Sergiy Tarmashev stopped being the author of these novels and reads them. The creator of “Purgatory” gave the writers complete freedom, allowing the project to go out into the world, but did not bear responsibility for the author’s book.

Axis and yours seem to be: we don’t have fun! If there had really been a problem, they would have taken everyone long ago! - the mother spoke strongly, but immediately changed her tone: - Please don’t pick up the phone from Veronica in Khabarovsk. It’s wonderful, it’s not good. They have China in order there, do you remember how we went? Eh, now through the immigrants! We only have a look at them and it’s clear - what kind of hygiene do they have? There might be an epidemic here, just look! Thirty people living in an apartment, shouting... Do you have fewer of them?

Less than that. - Olena lowered her shoulders, although her mother couldn’t see anyone, and looked at the window. On the children's Maidan they peacefully “grazed” their five-year-old swearing and unruly children. - It’s not hygienic here on the right, ma! This is an epidemic, perhaps a pandemic.

Pandemic is not bird flu! - She reprimanded her mother. - And here everything is much more serious. Epidemic, and, it seems, thousands of victims, thousands! What stink comes out of the military camp? Close the borders immediately, throw them away and spray the roads with bleach! Do you wear a respirator?

I'm wearing it! - Olena began to gag. - Well, I guessed right, we and Svetka decided to go to the pharmacy. Pavlo just coughed and coughed.

Call me for the evening! I had already forgotten all the news about France, I was watching the morning on TV, it’s so important! There…

Mom, bye bye! Vibach, you need to run!

Of course, Olena was overwhelmed by the news of the world, she just couldn’t bear to sleep. From early childhood, my mother began to cry at her with all the infection that was always on the street, and Olena began to squeal and shake her hands twenty times a day. When they talked about the dangers of the flu during the winter, the first thing, without worrying about anything, put on a respirator and tried to get the same from Pashka. He's stubborn! It’s true, and I’m in good health, you supreme fool. This is the good twenty-fifth river, some of Izmail’s school friends were already pushing strollers with their extended family through the parks, and, no matter how much my mother said that there was no hurry yet, Lenka could not help but think about the children. Just as she was throwing on her denim jacket, she glanced at the window again. On the children's Maidan, the dads flocked to buy something and chattered loudly about it.

“Everything about those same things,” Olena squealed. - It’s scary, of course, but how can a respirator help here? It’s not a flu and it’s not a snake.

The pharmacy, as well as the post office and a small house store were located within about a hundred meters from the entrance. Svetlana, whom Olena had known briefly after moving from Izmailovo to Strogino, was nowhere to be seen, and the girl fell asleep in the bath. Wrapping herself chilly in her jacket - summer cold in Moscow is not uncommon - Olena tried to realize that she and the baby were in the stroller, that she had already lived here for more than a century or two. Once your eyes stop squinting, then you will have a ring on your finger. Living without her father, in another part of the world, the place was still insignificant, and Olenya wanted to call her sooner, to become known. Ale Pavlo talk about fun without getting started. It had not yet come, so that the mother began to hurry, and even the pressure was already on.

Vitannya! - The frozen light pulled the bologna captur over her head. – Did you hear Novinny?

Yeah, on the phone. Let's talk about France.

What a France! In Ukraine, they said, panic! Refugees are coming to us, thousands of them straight ahead - the roads showed heavy traffic jams for many kilometers!

“Oh, don’t bark at me,” Olena asked.

Igor Pronin

Thanks to Father Sergius Tarmashev, he allowed us to edit the title of the series, as well as the unique world and plot created by the novel “Purgatory”.

Head of Persha

The epidemic, which was unconscious and therefore especially terrible, began here at the Close Gathering, either in Israel or in Palestine. A bit of wideness immediately flew from each side, one after another. Meanwhile, there were colds, and Pavlo, recently the huge man of Olenka Svirskaya, recently read what she found on the Internet about the successful development of the vaccine. It was only revealed that there was no vaccine, and in the laboratory everyone in the laboratory became infected with something terrible. So a few days passed, and everyone was already saying that the infection of spirit was walking through Russia, that it was brought either from Ukraine or from China, and the axis would be introduced either in particular or in the military camp. Lenochka’s mother, because of the stench, called for two days a day, but it was even quiet: it seemed to her that such a “special situation” was the crown of all problems.

I'm wearing it! - Olena began to gag. - Well, I guessed right, we and Svetka decided to go to the pharmacy. Pavlo just coughed and coughed.

Call me for the evening! I had already forgotten all the news about France, I was watching the morning on TV, it’s so important! There…

Mom, bye bye! Vibach, you need to run!

“Everything about those same things,” Olena squealed. - It’s scary, of course, but how can a respirator help here? It’s not a flu and it’s not a snake.

Vitannya! - The frozen light pulled the bologna captur over her head. – Did you hear Novinny?

Yeah, on the phone. Let's talk about France.

What a France! In Ukraine, they said, panic! Refugees are coming to us, thousands of them straight ahead - the roads showed heavy traffic jams for many kilometers!

“Oh, don’t bark at me,” Olena asked. - Maybe I’ll go overboard. They either have England that doesn’t bear the same kind of connection, or they want to start introducing some new things again... Pashka seems to be able to believe now that he can no longer trust the fools. At my dad's place near Krim, I think they would know the stench, there is also a border with Ukraine.

Oh, don't tell me! I'm already afraid! - Svetlana slipped under Olena’s arm and pulled her to the pharmacy. - You need to buy me... Well, okay.

From behind the horn of the “Pyatirochka” supermarket, a lady appeared at the exit door. In one hand she carried a tightly stuffed package, with the other she led her little daughter, her free hand clutching her big brother’s shirt. My wife and boyfriend, immigrants from Tajikistan, rented an apartment. The smells did not speak Russian, and Olena still could not sense how their names sounded correctly. The Tajik woman, a quarrelsome woman, with her thin head always wrapped up, did not show any disapproval, and the man disappeared here at work wholeheartedly. Smiling, they nodded one by one and parted ways.

Don't you think about the stink to yourself? - Svetka immediately whispered in her friend’s ear. - They didn’t say anything?

So what? Maybe they are safer there. You know, the climate, what's going on, what's going on... I read on Facebook today that in Mexico a woman is suffering from the virus, especially the special one.

De Mexico ta de Tajikistan?! - Olena giggled. - Let's go, of course! It’s dark, Svetko.

Here you can believe what you want!

The smells went as far as the pharmacy, and Rozmova immediately began to stumble. There stood here for a long time - a people who were fueled by rotten novelties, who began to lose more respect for their health, and the people were trying to stock up on reserves of medicine for an unexpected emergency. Having settled down at the tail, the girls sighed synchronously.

I've been down for a year! - Svetlana muttered, her eyes pointing at the draw, which filled the entire small trading floor with her sounds. - How about no more! Until this old hamanets distance, until you go through all the rubbish there... What is your Pashka talking about?

You may show up soon. I get angry if I call through the phone number, so I’ll be looking at you right now.

Svetlana was already marveling at the great, large window on the entire wall with a thick slope. Cars were rushing along the street, and there was a tram in the middle. People walked along the boulevard for a few minutes, and everything seemed so calm and solemn.

Everyone's personality has changed, did you notice? - Svetlana whispered, not worrying that she could feel the neighbors across the street. – Especially among the older generation. They all became savages, deeds of evil. Why wait for something terrible?

“They have a lot to say,” Olena sighed. - And the children’s faces are the same as before! Only people know that summer has come and the sun is shining.

Shine or not shine! It’s summer, just me... And you’re all about children, huh? How about you? Chi not to bother?

Olena lightly shook her fist at her side and turned around until the pharmacy ended. The tired woman, having taken the pennies for the purchase, quickly let out the bill and leaned her breasts on the crooked counter, her eyes open and her mouth wide open. She shook all over, as if an unfortunate current was passing through her body. No one was able to say anything yet, as she fell into the cramped space between the scarves and the faces.

It hurts, you fool! - Svetlana squeaked, and Olena only now realized that she squeezed her wrists out of fear. - Oh, where is the saleswoman?

- Viklichte “Shvidka”! - the old man shouted hoarsely, suddenly choked up, pressing his back against the crowd. - Hey, girl! Your colleagues are rotten!

Nadya, let's get going! - the summer lady hoarsely shouted to her daughter, grabbed her hand and pulled her to the exit, where there were a lot of shoppers. - All the sickness here stinks, the devil is going on...

And everyone moved towards the door at once. The friends who stood at the back of the pot could not have been deprived of the pharmacy, as they allegedly wanted - they were simply carried away by the human flow. Olena did not face the bitter attack of the salesman - there was little that could happen to her! Ale is an ancient one, in the genes of the desire to sit, with a darkened heart, beating like a wounded bird, when she started denouncing people who rushed to get away. No one thought to help the salesman, no one even tried to achieve any decency: they simply rushed to the exit. There was an embossed vinyl at the door, someone was pressed to the cursed doors, although they screamed uncontrollably.

Whether the material of this book is distorted, it is often protected without the permission of the legal authority.

Project idea – Sergiy Tarmashev

Thanks to Father Sergius Tarmashev, he allowed us to edit the title of the series, as well as the unique world and plot created by the novel “Purgatory”.

Head of Persha

- Axis and yours seem to be: we don’t have fun! If there had really been a problem, they would have taken everyone long ago! - Mother said strongly, but immediately changed her tone: - Please don’t pick up Veronica from Khabarovsk. It’s wonderful, it’s not good. They have China in order there, do you remember how we went? Eh, now through the immigrants! There are only a few of them in our yard and you can see - and what kind of hygiene do they have? There might be an epidemic here, just look! Thirty people living in an apartment, shouting... Do you have fewer of them?

- Less than that. - Olena lowered her shoulders, although her mother couldn’t see anyone, and looked at the window. On the children's Maidan they peacefully “grazed” their five-year-old swearing and unruly children. - It’s not hygienic here on the right, ma! This is an epidemic, perhaps a pandemic.

– A pandemic is not bird flu! - She reprimanded her mother. – But here everything is much more serious. Epidemic, and, it seems, thousands of victims, thousands! What stink comes out of the military camp? Close the borders immediately, throw them away and spray the roads with bleach! Do you wear a respirator?

- I wear it! - Olena began to gag. - Well, I guessed right, we and Svetka decided to go to the pharmacy. Pavlo just coughed and coughed.

- Ring the evening! I had already forgotten all the news about France, I was watching the morning on TV, it’s so important! There…

- Mom, bye! Vibach, you need to run!

“It’s all about those same things,” Olena said. - It’s scary, of course, but how can a respirator help here? It’s not a flu and it’s not a snake.

The pharmacy, as well as the post office and a small house store were located within about a hundred meters from the entrance. Svetlana, whom Olena had known briefly after moving from Izmailovo to Strogino, was nowhere to be seen, and the girl fell asleep in the bath. Wrapping herself chilly in her jacket—summer cold weather in Moscow is not uncommon—Olena tried to notice that she and her baby were in the stroller, that she had already lived here for more than a century or two. Once your eyes stop squinting, then you will have a ring on your finger. Living without her father, in another part of the world, the place was still insignificant, and Olenya wanted to call her sooner, to become known. Ale Pavlo talk about fun without getting started. It had not yet come, so that the mother began to hurry, and even the pressure was already on.

- Vitannya! “I pulled the freezer light over my head with a bologna captur. – Did you hear Novinny?

- Yeah, on the phone. Let's talk about France.

- What France! In Ukraine, they said, panic! Refugees are coming to us, thousands of them straight ahead - the roads showed heavy traffic jams for many kilometers!

- Oh, don't tell me! I'm already afraid! - Svetlana slipped under Olena’s arm and pulled her to the pharmacy. - You need to buy me... Well, darling.

- Don't you get the stink out of yourself? - Svetlana immediately whispered in her friend’s ear. – Didn’t you say anything?

- So what? Maybe they are safer there. You know, the climate, what's going on, what's going on... I read on Facebook today that in Mexico a woman is suffering from the virus, especially the special one.

– De Mexico ta de Tajikistan?! – Olena giggled. - Most likely, absolutely! It’s dark, Svetko.

- Here you can believe what you want!

The smells went as far as the pharmacy, and Rozmova immediately began to stumble. There stood here for a long time - a people who were fueled by rotten news, having begun to put more and more emphasis on their health, and the people were trying to build up reserves of medicine for an unexpected emergency. Having settled down at the tail, the girls sighed synchronously.

- I’ve been down for a year! - Svetlana muttered, her eyes pointing at the draw, which filled the entire small trading floor with her sounds. - But no more! Until this old hamanets distance, until you go through all the rubbish there... What is your Pashka talking about?

– Nezabar may already show up. I get angry if I call through the phone number, so I’ll be looking at you right now.

- Everyone’s personalities have changed, did you notice? - Svetlana the bastard whispered, not worrying that she could feel the neighbors across the street. – Especially among the older generation. They all became savages, deeds of evil. Why wait for something terrible?

“They have more information,” Olena sighed. - And the children’s faces are the same as before! Only people know that summer has come and the sun is shining.

Purgatory. Vikhid Igor Pronin

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Title: Purgatory. Vikhid

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