a disconnected electronic device should. After spending a few more minutes in suspense, Tony calmed down and walked in the direction which would be south if this dirtied foul place were Broadway and if the gardener nightmare behind him were City Hall Park.
However these surroundings, as far as it was possible to make out in the dark, were not becoming any more attractive–in fact, just the contrary. The street, narrow and dirty as a suppurating wound from a slashing blade, passed between two rows of crowded and ragged houses which appeared absolutely uninhabited. There were even more broken windows and the intact ones–at least on the lower floors, which Tony could see most clearly–were nearly opaque with dust. Logan, who never before had looked in someone else's windows, tried to wipe some of them, but it did not help–they were as dirty inside as outside. The walls had no graffiti, though, in an area like this, they should be everywhere. Fire escape stairs here and there lacked wells, allowing rusty steps to break right in emptiness. House numbers mostly were absent, and where they were still present, they seemed a senseless series of digits. House number 183 followed 1547, then two houses with no numbers, and then 804–without observance not only to an order, but also to a principle of even and odd sides. And all this was within the single, infinitely long block. Tony went on in hope of finding a crossroads and reading the street name on it, but the walls of this stone gorge had not a single gap. Occasionally, at odd intervals, were street lamps and they had different designs–some light poles were concrete, others wooden, and the lamps were either modern ovals, or glass spheres or obviously archaic polyhedrons. But the main thing–none of them were lit, the covers often were broken, and the poles–lop-sided, with torn off wires. But the darkness still was not absolute–which is, however, natural enough for a city, especially on cloudy nights when low clouds reflect city lights. But Tony saw neither lights, nor clouds, nor stars. Only darkness hung over the city–darkness in its pure state, homogeneous and impenetrable.
He came upon a dead pigeon again. Then one more. And here a decaying seagull lay with spread shabby wings, like a dead eagle of a fallen empire. Strange–usually seagulls keep to coasts and do not fly deep into the city... Perhaps, the coast is very close?
Tony raised his eyes from the carrion–and shivered. Towards him along the street a person walked.
Logan knew perfectly well that at night in bad areas, especially when you were alone, it was possible to have most unpleasant meetings. However the figure going right on a trafficway didn't resemble a street thug at all. But looking at the figure still made Tony feel a little odd. First of all, this person wasn't dressed according to the season: he had on a baggy winter jacket and a fur cap with long ears tied under his chin. He also wore a scarf wrapped around his face up to his eyes. And, seemingly, despite all it, he still could not get warm, as he hid his hands under his arms. His gait was also strange–the figure hobbled on half-bent legs, spreading knees wide sideways and turning out his feet almost 180 degrees. The head was also turned to the right at such an angle that Tony wondered this creature did not break his neck. At first Logan thought that the stranger purposely had turned away from him, but, seemingly, he had been walking this way for a long time without noticing Logan at all.
Nevertheless, though the looks of the stranger brought unaccountable fear, Tony decided to talk with him. It was the first live being he had met on the surface and he needed to find out what this rotten place was and how, damn it all, to get from here to a normal part of Manhattan.
"Sir!" Logan called, surprised at the hoarse sound of his own voice. "Excuse me, sir, could you tell me..."
The figure continued to hobble forward, looking to the right (and even to the right rear) and without showing in any way that he heard. He? A thought came to Logan's mind that, actually, nothing proved that it was a man. These shapeless clothes could hide a woman as well...
Tony resolutely crossed the road and stopped in front of the walking figure, wishing to look in his–or her–face.
It did not help much. The face was