Mateusz stepped out of the building. His hair was disheveled as usual, his pants were rolled up above the ankles, and on his feet were the legendary, ripped sneakers with the toes painted on with red marker. Jeans, worn in several places, and a "Lighter Thieves" T-shirt completed the look. He bowed dryly to Wronowska, who was just entering the stairwell, and seeing her cutting gaze, he frowned and looked into her eyes, expressing his hatred and contempt for her wretched self. The plaid skirt and its owner disappeared through the door, huffing in their own displeasure. The others had been sitting downstairs for a while. Katrin was grinding a mint Orbit and admiringly watching the figure of Panterka swing from left to right, dressed in a bright blue tracksuit with stripes in all the most visible places and a large adidas logo on the back. She thought the tracksuits must have a lot of courage and dedication to their subculture to dress in something like that. Personally, she didn't want anything to do with them, but the unknown had always fascinated her, so she sometimes caught herself wondering what the tracksuits did in the afternoon (because then almost no one saw them) or why they swapped clothes. Unfortunately, the panther noticed Katrin's gaze and gave them a big, juicy slap, tipped with a dirty nail. He quickened his pace and headed toward Smolak's apartment building, where the weekly meetings were held. Pasi shook Mateusz's hand, then shuddered with disgust. The meeting at Smolak's meant he wouldn't be able to get home until midnight. It was three in the afternoon. After about fifteen minutes, the familiar, heavy beats and strange shouts like, "How are you having fun!!? How are you having fun!!? I can't hear youeeee….!!!!!
" "Manieczki," Pasi said coldly. Ever since the aforementioned Smolak became his close neighbor, he'd been waking up and falling asleep to sounds like these. "And look at his window."
Everyone turned their gaze to Smolak's room. It wasn't hard to spot him, because at all hours of the day and night, a strange, brownish glow surrounded him. It was there too, but the outline of a radio on the windowsill was visible. The radio, probably a Panasonic or Filips in a fantastic metallic shade, was blaring at full volume.
"But the equipment is a bit finicky..." Mroczek said after a moment.
"When Smolak's mother gets paid, he goes to the market and buys one of those rags from the Russians. They even cut him half off because he supplies them with hash," Pasi said.
"So a radio for less than twenty zlotys..." Mati was clearly surprised.
"Well, that's how it works.
" "Łuczi, what about you?" Mateusz asked.
- Er... there... - Lutschi hid his face in his hands.
Pasi, Mroczek, and Katrin burst into derisive laughter. Finally, Mroczek spoke.
"Well, Łuczi went a bit overboard with my uncle's alcohol yesterday... "
Mati raised his eyebrows.
"But your uncle is a priest...
" "Well, actually, yes, but he's terribly bored at the rectory. And I benefit from it, because I get free bottles to test, and my uncle gives me a nice share of the profits." Here Mroczek smiled strangely.
"A share? And what's that for?"
"Heh, heh... For silence, of course. Announcing to the congregation that their beloved priest is brewing moonshine in the rectory basement would seriously damage his reputation. They might even collect less for the collection plate, and then he'd have to change his lifestyle.
" "You're a monster, Mroczek...
" "But a rich one at that." Okay, so as I was saying, Łuczi went a bit overboard yesterday. With the visions typical of every bum, he had the delusion that he was an SS partisan. Or the Gray Ranks…" Everyone was laughing now, except the man himself, who seemed to have paled a bit. "But that's not all.
" "Stop it," Łuczi howled.
"Okay, let's leave him alone," Katrin defended Łuczi, signaling to Mateusz that she would tell him later.
"Gosh, I'm a little out of control… "
Mati couldn't help but laugh.
"Haa, you'll spit your lungs out." Marta spoke for the first time in the high-stakes conversation and threw a mirabelle plum from the sidewalk at Mateusz. Łuczi was clearly disgusted.
"Very funny," he said, then fell silent for a long moment and listened to the rhythms from the window, where the mysterious meeting was taking place.
Katrin spat out her Orbitka and grabbed a new one. For a good three months, a question had been nagging at her. What was going on behind the closed doors in the apartment building across the street? Pasi couldn't tell her anything, because he knew practically nothing himself. Sometimes he wondered about it. When a meeting started, he either left the house or didn't return, waiting for it to end. He considered the people of number 48 a cult and preferred not to get involved. Everyone was consumed with curiosity, but they didn't show it. What if they were hatching sinister plans to eliminate the anti-tracksuits? Just look at their faces. They hate us all… They barely let anyone into their closed circle. They once had a plan to infiltrate their organization, but that would have required wearing a tracksuit all the time, so they gave up. Once, they even climbed onto the roof of their building and tried to see the truth with a telescope Marta and Katrin had given their father, but they were spotted by the doe-eyed, all-seeing eyes of Robcio, who also often stayed at Smolak's, and the blinds were drawn tightly. Since then, their relationship has deteriorated significantly. Smolak shouted something from the balcony in their faces about fucking voyeurs and slobs, and they responded in kind. Now they glare at each other and try to thrash each other every time, even though (some) members of both organizations were curious about how the other lived.
"Katrin, don't stare at that window!" Mateusz exclaimed indignantly.
"I'm not staring at you, I just glanced." It flashed through Mateusz's mind that Katrin was lying anyway. "They must have changed their music, right?"
"Oh, I want to keep up appearances," Mroczek thought. Everyone knew about Katrin's strange affinity for exploring the dark world of the tracksuits.
Pasi shook his head.
"No, they only have one cassette. One side has the previous one, and the other has what's playing now.
" "Pasi, and you say you know nothing..." Mroczek seemed disappointed that his friend was withholding important facts from them. "Or maybe you're one of them and just investigating us?
" "Who do you think I am? When Smolak's mother gets home from work, she throws them out, so they sit in the stairwell, play cards, smoke hash, and listen to music. The same music they're listening to now. And I saw them flipping the same cassette over and over again.
" "Because I was sitting with them..." Marta laughed.
"Get lost, you scoundrels!" I was looking through the peephole.
"Exactly! Judas!" Łuczi shouted, but noticing the strange looks on his companions' faces, he became lost in his own thoughts again and buried his face in his hands.
Pasi was clearly outraged by this slander.
"Okay, if you don't believe me, come upstairs. I'll show you. My windows are next to his."
Katrin immediately stood up and was ready to go right then and there. Marta spoke again.
"Why? We don't care much about this music, although I don't deny we could somehow get rid of that cassette, and anyway, they do the same thing at home at meetings as they do on the staircase. So nothing interesting. They're simpletons!"
Katrin disagreed.
"What are you doing? They're poseurs. They just want others to think they're doing nothing. Do you understand?"
The rest of the group clearly didn't share her enthusiasm. Łuczi swayed, said he wasn't feeling well, and went home. Mateusz started singing one of his psychedelic songs, which put Mroczek in a melancholy mood.
"Enough!" Katrin shouted. "Let's go!"
Mati stood up, smiling strangely foolishly.
"Okay. If you want...
" "Let's go!"
Katrin, Marta, Mateusz, Pasi, and Mroczek set off in unison toward building 21a. They went up to the third floor. Pasi took his keys out of his pocket and opened his door. From number 48 came the sounds of music that had been playing at the very beginning of the meeting. They entered the apartment. The host headed for the living room and began opening the balcony, while the others headed for the kitchen and brazenly opened the refrigerator.
"Ooh... A pate," Mati sighed with satisfaction. He took out the homemade delicacy and cut himself three thick slices, immediately placing them on the bread. The rest followed suit, and within five minutes, there was no sign of Pasi's pate.
"I knew you couldn't be trusted," Pasi said, entering the kitchen. "You eat everything in sight. Madafaka, my mother will kill me for that pate!!! Get out now! "
Laughing repeatedly, the group emerged from the kitchen, munching on delicious sandwiches.
"I guess we just came to his place again to stuff ourselves. He should have learned his lesson from previous visits, right?" Mroczek timidly interjected to Mati.
"Ugh. Better for us." Pasi's mother is a pretty good cook.
Meanwhile, Pasi had already crawled slowly out onto the balcony and checked the adjacent balcony and the window.
"Clear," he said. "You can go out. Just one at a time, because if they see anyone, it'll be bad. And I'll be the one in trouble. You have to be careful. I was afraid to go into the stairwell anyway. You don't know what they do sometimes.
" "So why didn't you tell us?
" "There's nothing to tell," Pasi said, then turned strangely pale.
"Pasi, don't panic!" Marta said and bravely stepped out onto the balcony. The others looked at her with admiration for her courage. After a moment, Marta reentered the room.
"They do have a hopeless radio, but that's all. The music's gone, have you noticed? And it's generally quiet. Maybe they're not there anymore?"
"Maybe they're discussing something, or thinking and need absolute silence?" Mroczek mused.
"Thinking?
" "I'm just speculating...
" Katrin had had enough of speculating. She went out onto the balcony. Sure enough, the radio was in its place, and an unsettling silence was coming from inside the apartment. She stood on tiptoe and leaned over the railing as far as she could. She could see almost nothing except a piece of orange wallpaper and a poster, probably depicting a naked woman on a motorcycle. "It's too quiet for anyone to be there at all," she thought. "Hmm... It has to be their way..." She went back into the room. The others didn't even notice. They were engrossed in conversation and eating. She walked down the hall to the room occupied by Pasi's older brother, an avid fisherman. She took his longest fishing rod from the closet and then headed for the bathroom, where she grabbed a mirror from the boys' mother's makeup bag. She deftly attached a mirror to the end of the fishing rod and headed for the balcony. She carefully glanced around to make sure no one was watching from the windows. She had reason to suspect so, as many of the neighbors' favorite pastime was gazing out the windows. The biggest proponent of this sport was undoubtedly Mrs. Halyna Ruta, who spent three-quarters of her life there. This had its advantages for her. She had become a highly respected figure in the neighborhood, thanks to her knowledge of all sorts of gossip and news. Katrin breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, she hadn't noticed Halyna there. There weren't many others in sight either. She was just about to put her plan into action when she suddenly heard a strange scraping sound nearby. She glanced to her right. The seven-year-old daughter of the Boruckis, the neighborhood's slobs, was sitting on the balcony. She was filthy as usual, and had a large, drool-covered lollipop in her mouth.
"Hi," the little one said.
"Hi." Katrin was already devising a strategy to get rid of the uncomfortable problem.
"What are you doing?
" "What's it to you?" She knew she had to be treated like that without any mercy.
"You're naughty. I'll tell Mommy right now...
" "Okay, I'll tell you, but you won't tell anyone." From inside the little girl's apartment, a long belch and the loud clinking of bottles reached Katrin's ears.
"I won't tell.
" "I'll go fishing.
" "It's impossible here. Don't lie.
" "You have to listen to me. I'm older and wiser than you. First, we need to make some water. If it lands on this tile, we'll open a passage to a parallel dimension and we'll be able to catch colorful fish in any flavor you want. Do you want it?"
Katrin noted with joy that the nasty child's eyes lit up.
"But how are we going to make this water? Can't you bring it from home?
" "Unfortunately not... It has to be our water, the water that flowed from us. The water of life. Do you understand?"
"Oh... But I think I know how to make water like that...
" "Oh, come on, she's not as stupid as she looks," Katrin thought.
"What?
" The little girl grabbed the railing with her hands, leaned back, and, gathering some saliva, spat joyfully onto Pasi's immaculate balcony.
"Already?
" "Not yet. Look, you've missed a bit. Concentrate and keep spitting.
" While the girl was doing as she was told, Katrin picked up the fishing rod and, with the look of a professional killer, tapped the tip on the Boruckis' window. A moment later, she saw the head of the family, Jacek Borucki, in the balcony door.
"What's going on here?" he asked, looking at his daughter spitting onto a balcony that wasn't hers. Katrin could smell the alcohol all the way up there. It also seemed to her that the man was surrounded by some strange fumes. She wasted no time.
"Lord!!! I've been working on this balcony since morning, cleaning, cleaning, and then this brat comes and shamelessly spits at me. Look at that!"
A large puddle of saliva was visible within two or three tiles. Borucki scratched his head. The girl, however, looked as if struck by lightning.
"Isn't there another dimension?
" "What dimension!" Borucki angrily took his daughter under his arm. "I'll teach you, you little shit, to respect your elders and your work, you'll see!" I apologize for her, she's completely taken after her mother," he said to Katrin.
"No problem," she smiled and winked at the little girl.
A minute later, she heard loud howls and screams. She didn't feel sorry for the child at all. The child had once brazenly thrown eggs out of the window and painted a new bicycle gold, a rustic, waterproof marker. That was revenge. Now she could finally get to work. She smiled to herself, admiring the ease with which she had dismissed the meddling brat. She looked around again, listening once more to see if the silence of number 48 was just a hoax, but she didn't notice any alarming signs. A cheerful smile crept across her face. She began. The mirror seemed to be holding firm, so she leaned over the railing and extended the fishing rod, which now reached almost to Smolak's apartment. She angled the mirror so she could see a bit of the interior and froze. As if through a fog, she saw strange glass tubes stretched across the room. The walls were plastered with posters of naked women. In the corner, she saw the square outline of something larger, but she couldn't figure out what it was. The entire decor was very unusual. Katrin's hands were already aching, so she returned the fishing rod to Pasi's balcony. She was lucky, because the handsome Arturo, Smolak's friend, was passing across the street and didn't hesitate to grace his balcony with his gaze. Katrin entered the apartment with a triumphant smile on her face.
"And what are you so happy about?" Pasi asked, already sensing something bad.
"Because I know something… aha…"
The mechanism inside Pasi's head began to work.
"Hey… What were you doing on the balcony? And why do you need my brother's fishing rod?"
Mateusz, Marta, and Mroczek had already concluded that Katrin had discovered something.
"So," she began, "using my above-average intelligence and using it appropriately, I managed to see what was hidden behind the next window and deduce that there was no human presence in that apartment. Nor any members of extraterrestrial civilizations. Mroczek, do you have your famous lockpick?"
Mroczek nodded. Everyone knew such an opportunity might never come again, and their curiosity would be unsatisfied.
"Let's go," Mateusz said. "But remember, we're working quietly and quickly, without unnecessary commentary. The entire operation has to be completed within ten minutes." Mateusz loved to carry out sabotage operations of all kinds.
Pasi visibly hesitated, but having no choice, he followed the majority, locking his apartment tightly behind him. Everyone felt a surge of adrenaline, yet simultaneously fear of what they were about to do and likely the consequences. Mroczek fumbled in his pocket for a moment, then pulled out a picklock and, with a focused expression, inserted it into the lock. The entire operation took a dozen or so seconds. The rest watched with bated breath.
"We did it," Mroczek whispered, "We're in."
The door opened with a soft creak. They quickly stepped inside and locked the door behind them.
Smolak's house stank. They couldn't guess what, but it resembled mothballs and reacting moonshine molecules. On the cabinet next to the entrance stood a half-empty bottle of methylated spirits.
"What a bummer..." Katrin sighed.
"We have to hurry. They could be here any minute," Marta said.
"I don't think so," Mateusz shook his head and pointed to a small note. "I found this on the hall cabinet. Listen: 'Mommy, I'm going to Warsaw with my friends for a part-time job. We'll be back around 7 p.m., so if you get back earlier, don't worry. I love you. Łukasz.'"
"Oh, you're a real person!" Pasi blurted out. "Either he's afraid of her or the guy has an Oedipus complex...
" "I think it's the latter..." Mroczek laughed.
Suddenly, Pasi felt a distinct vibration running through his entire body. He immediately focused and pressed his fingers to his temples. "Yes, Grandpa, do you want to contact me again?" The vibrations grew stronger and more unpleasant. Pasi began to think that it wasn't necessarily his grandfather who wanted to contact him. It was quite possible that it was one of the soul-sucking demons, the kind Pasi had dealt with many times. But this one must have incredible energy and power. He slowly began to get nervous. After all, he had set up a blockade; no monster should be able to break it. After all, he was an experienced and talented medium. Such things didn't happen. He felt his insides twisting. Now he knew what that feeling was... Pasi had to eat a sandwich.
As he thought, so he did. The kitchen turned out to be a small, windowless room, and the refrigerator was a square box, about knee-high. Pasi was deeply disappointed, but he opened it anyway, pulled out the last piece of sausage, the ketchup, sliced the bread (the butter was unfortunately rancid), and began to eat. At the same time, everyone else entered Smolak's room. They were met with a sight similar to the one Katrin had seen a few minutes ago.
"Oh, idiots!!! They've set up a mini moonshine distillery!!!" Mroczek exclaimed, and immediately ran over to inspect the tubes, stretched out across almost the entire room. He smelled, touched, tasted, and was as happy as a child.
"Mmmm... Perfect mash... I never knew they were such fantastic moonshine makers!" With that, Mroczek imperceptibly (or so he thought) tucked the one-liter bottle of moonshine into his pocket. Mati favored him with a look that boded nothing good and finally spoke up:
"I think we should look around a bit more."
Katrin began to explore the rest of the apartment. She followed Mroczek through the tubes, paintings, and records. Unfortunately, the further she went, the more disappointed she became. Looking at the "paintings" made her want to vomit, the tubes reeked of cow patties, and the records made her want to cry. When she reached the toilet, she couldn't bear it. Last night's dinner and today's breakfast ended up in the sink, which didn't do much harm anyway. Covering her face with her hands, she quickly ran out to the balcony. On the way, she passed Marta bending over a black trunk in the corner of the room. She tried to open it. It was tightly closed. She cursed. "Simple people, simple solutions" flashed through her mind, and she kicked the lid with all her might. Pieces of wood scattered across the floor. Alarmed by the noise, the others ran to Marta, who was inspecting the contents of the trunk. Beneath the layer of sawdust, they saw something resembling glass tubes. Beneath them lay a red velvet case with strange symbols in an unidentified language embroidered in gold thread.
"Open it..." whispered Mateusz.
Katrin's hands were trembling as much with curiosity as from the ailments she'd just experienced. Mroczek's eyes lit up, and even Pasi stopped chewing his sandwich. Marta slowly opened the case. The aura of mystery vanished, and everyone's shiver of curiosity turned into a large lump in their throats. The box contained a dozen or so flickering lights embedded in a gray, plastic mass. Only now did everyone notice that tiny wires were extending from the bottom of the case. They disappeared into the back of the trunk, but they were clearly visible trailing upwards. Above the trunk hung a poster of a naked woman standing in a strange pose next to an old woman. Mateusz decisively ripped it off the wall. The wires stretched until the two walls met the ceiling.
"Camera!!!" Pasi yelled. "It's an ambush!"
The mini camera stared them straight in the face. Katrin immediately picked up a broken board from the floor and threw it straight and confidently. She was rarely wrong about that. The camera split into three parts. Panic gripped the group. Mateusz tried to do something to calm Mroczek, who had long been at odds with Smolak. Pasi shouted that he was already in the worst of trouble. Marta sat down in the corner. Katrin, meanwhile, opened the door to the stairwell, but hearing quick footsteps (she recognized them as a group in Adidas shoes), she closed it again.
"They're coming for us, let's keep our dignity," she said so everyone could hear.
"How many?" Mateusz asked with a sad expression.
"Sixteen Adidas shoes. That makes eight people. Not good.
" "Close the door," Pasi interjected.
"This is Smolak's apartment, you idiot. He probably has the keys."
After a few seconds, the sound of a key scraping in the lock was heard. Knowing full well they'd been caught red-handed, they didn't even try to hide. They stood next to each other and assumed the most indifferent expressions they could under the circumstances. Smolak's room was opposite the front door. They held their breath. The door slowly opened, and it began.
"Well, well, well... Who do my beautiful eyes see?" Smolak smacked his lips. "The scumbags across the street and the loser neighbor. What a haul, eh, guys?" Smolak laughed throatily. Seven unattractive-looking companions followed suit. Four of them were familiar to them: Fat Robcio, Gomez, Arturo, and Emil. Katrin seemed to recognize another one as Adam Kulesza, also known as Kulek.
"Did you really think you could run riot in the neighborhood and in my apartment with impunity? You idiots...
" "You're an idiot yourself, Smolak!" Mateusz shouted, immediately doubling over after Artur's precise punch, aimed perfectly in the stomach.
"Emil, search the scumbags," the leader ordered.
Emil immediately obeyed, first putting on brass knuckles in case anyone resisted. However, they weren't necessary; the group was suspiciously calm, except for Pasi's slightly chattering teeth. The tracksuits couldn't hear this, as Pasi still had a piece of unchewed sandwich in his mouth.
"My last sausage!" Smolak shouted. "You'll see, I'll eat your private one for dinner. You'll squeal like you used to..." After these words, Pasi collapsed to the ground.
"Fuck, Smolak, how are we going to get him across now?" Arturo remarked.
He merely shrugged and stared at the things his enemies were taking out of their pockets. Mroczek, very reluctantly, pulled a bottle from his jacket and placed it on the ground. Mateusz tossed the cow chain he always carried in front of Smolak, and Marta spat a pink Orbitka at his feet. Emil walked over to Katrin.
"I'm clean," she said, smiling at him with the prettiest smile she could muster. Surprisingly, he left her alone, which was a good thing, because she had a pocket knife and a magnet hidden in her jacket, and a cell phone in her back pocket. She very unwisely handed over the rest of her belongings.
"Emil, you loser, I told you to search her!" Smolak shouted, playing with Pasi's phone.
Emil was just pondering a half-intelligent response when Arturo burst into the room and, with strange gestures, informed Smolak that someone had puked all over his toilet.
"That's definitely him!" he pointed at the prone Pasi. "He ate your sausage!
" Smolak's expression fell. He glared at Artur, who froze, his expression filled with hatred.
"Are you suggesting something? Is there something you don't like about my sausage?" he said in a calm tone that boded nothing good for Artur.
"No... no way... I, I just...
" "Get out, you tramp!!!" Smolak stood up and yelled at the damned guilty mate, "Fuck off cleaning the bathroom!!! I'll be back in five minutes for an inspection, everything has to be sparkling new!
" "But..."
"Raus! Otherwise, you'll find out what it means to mess with Smoli, the lord and master of this neighborhood!"
Arturo, resigned, trudged to the bathroom, pulling an old rag from the closet along the way, the one Smolak had worn to his First Holy Communion. The rest of his friends lowered their gaze and pretended to be busy with something. Caught in their midst, they choked with laughter. Emil looked at Fat Robcio. His face expressed considerable astonishment; he looked absent-minded and preoccupied. However, only to the uninitiated did Robcio seem like an intellectual. Emil sighed. Robcio always looked like that, only after a blunt, he sometimes smiled. He supposedly spoke his first word at the age of eleven, when his mother gave him undercooked cutlets for dinner. It was "fuck."
Emil hated it when Smolak treated them like that. He only made fun of them in front of his victims, exploited his higher position in the neighborhood hierarchy. He felt like an idiot next to him. He'd once considered leaving the organization, but the punishment for that was a beating from Papa Tomasz himself, the ruler of the entire city. But he'd had enough of the humiliation. He was torn between himself. Dignity or loyalty? He hoped he'd be able to choose one day.
An awkward silence fell. Occasionally, Smolak would break it with a loud laugh. He seemed to be looking through Pasi's text messages. After a moment, he got up and headed for the bathroom. Everyone heard a strange crack, followed by Artur's unidentified scream. Kulek, Gomez, and Emil covered their ears with their hands, only Robcio looked unfazed. Contrary to appearances, none of the prisoners were idle, except perhaps the still unconscious Pasi. Everyone was already formulating an escape plan in their heads, a foolproof plan that had to work, or things would be grim. Everyone knew what a mess they'd gotten themselves into. They had to get out of this alive.
Mateusz and Marta were thinking the most intensely. Mroczek still couldn't get over the lost moonshine, and Katrin was just getting over her fascination with sweatpants, and her throat felt a bit uncomfortable. She immediately reached for her Orbitka. Suddenly, Mateusz and Marta looked at each other. They all understood each other without words, so Mati just nodded and spoke.
"Hey, guys, I don't want to pry, but what's going on over there?
" "None of your business," Gomez replied, cleaning his fingernails with Mroczek's lockpick and looking sadly at his companions.
"Uuu... I think something's wrong," Marta interjected. "That's not how a real sweatpants... er... I mean, a boy screams."
Katrin glanced at Kulek. His expression said it all. Mateusz continued.
"Maybe there are different rules in your organization, but I think your boss is overreacting a bit. Don't you feel like you're being pushed around by him? Guys, I respect you and I know you're capable of standing up to his bloody rule and feeling like normal, whole people again. Don't let yourself be treated like skaters."
Pasi regained consciousness and looked around the crowd, still a bit dazed. It was obvious that Mati's words had made a big impression on the tracksuits. Emil nodded, Kulek started crying, and Robcio said,
"Smolak is a monster...
Only Gomez probably didn't understand.
" "You think I'm a skater, you idiot? Look at this!" He ran his fingers over the three stripes on his arm. "I'll go get the boss right away, he'll teach you not to talk like that!" He then turned to the rest of the group. "Żagiel, Gaga, Siulim, maybe you should go get him, and I'll keep an eye on them here." Tell your boss it's time to head to the Command Center.
Gomez's friends went to the bathroom in unison; the screams had already died down. Kulek, Robcio, and Emil understood. They had no chance of escaping Smolak's hold. They were tied to him forever. Mateusz, meanwhile, was reeling from his defeat, mentally cursing himself for using a word universally disliked among tracksuit-wearing people—skater. Maybe they would be free now. "I screwed up," he thought. "Because of me, we could have sunk... I have to think of something else."
After a few seconds, Smolak, a strangely dejected Arturo, Żagiel, Gaga, and Siulim entered the room. He looked at the prisoners with hatred. Or more specifically, at Katrin.
"I remember you now, you scoundrel. You were the one who lied about me to Papa Tomasz when he wanted to borrow money from you. Because of that, you'll suffer twice as much. Just like I suffered then..."
Katrin smiled at the memory of the incident. Smolak couldn't walk for two weeks, and the bruises and scabs took over a month to heal.
"Are you laughing? We'll see. Now I'm on top...
" "Don't be so sure, Smolak," she replied, then looked pleadingly at Emil and Robcio, who had been watching the scene the entire time. They lowered their eyes.
"So I guess that's it," Marta thought, also noticing the looks.
"Tie their hands, we're going to the Command Center immediately. Just don't screw this up, you idiot! Their escape is equivalent to your Tribunal before Papa Tomasz..."
After a brief period of resistance, which ended in failure, Pasi, Mroczek, Marta, Katrin, and Mateusz emerged from Smolak's sanctuary, feeling the tight laces on their wrists. The man of the house had left earlier, he claimed, to smoke a cigarette before his sweet revenge. His right hand, Gomez, led the group down the corridor. Mroczek couldn't help but laugh as he looked at Gomez's outfit of an orange sweatshirt, tapered corduroys, and shiny patent leather shoes. He was constantly punished for this by being slapped around the neck by Żagiel. Pasi wondered if he could survive jumping from the fourth floor, and Katrin wondered what punishment Smolak had devised for them. Mateusz and Marta walked along, assessing their chances of escape every few seconds.
The lower they went, the greater the chances increased. Outside, they could afford more maneuvering. They could even reach some sort of understanding, as the tracksuits had hit upon the brilliant idea of tying all the shoelaces in Smolak's house together to make a strong string. "We don't have any string," Siulim said sadly, while still in the apartment pondering possible ways to bind the intruders, clutching the whip that hung faithfully at his side. He never parted with it... The second original idea was to tie up the odd-numbered Katrina, Pasi, and Mateusz, who were walking in single file, with their hands behind their backs, and the even-numbered Marta and Mroczek, with their hands forward, to "save string" (Arturo). Up to the first floor, Marta pulled her phone from Katrin's back pocket and signaled Pasi, who, with concentrated energy, transferred it directly to the front pocket of Mroczek's sweatshirt and skillfully handed Katrin a pocketknife so she could cut her bonds and save everyone. Mateusz tried to contact Mroczek telepathically, asking him to call Łuczi as quickly as possible.
They were already on the first floor. Unfortunately, the pocketknife was too dull for Smolak's stiff, grimy shoelaces. Resigned, Marta shoved it back into her sister's pocket. Mroczek barely managed to retrieve the phone with his bound hands; without Pasi's mental support, the only chance for rescue would have been wasted. With a little help, he also managed to get through to Łuczi more quickly, whose sleepy voice Mroczek soon heard on the phone.
"Łuczi, there's smoke! They've caught us... Help!" was all he managed to say.
"Fuck!!!" Gomez fumed, stomping on her beautiful cell phone in front of Katrin. "What idiot let him do that? Well, if he called, we're screwed... Probably to that feathered one who's always screwing around! Fuck, if the boss finds out, I'll be facing the Tribunal... You've disgraced our nation!"
Mroczek smiled despite Żagiel's blows. Arturo didn't seem to fully understand what had just happened, because he rushed to gather the phone's parts, secretly hoping for a small profit from selling the assembled one. Assembling phones was Arturo's great passion.
"Quickly to the Center," Gomez commanded. "And not a word to the boss about that phone, because I'm responsible for you, and I'll be screwed for your empty heads, you beef asses!
" "Dupoliz," Robcio immediately thought. Gomez was looking more and more like Smoli, even though he was straight. They stopped in front of apartment number 30, much to the surprise of those caught. This apartment had been empty for over four years, ever since they evicted a mentally ill painter, a chronic alcoholic, and a man who unabashedly urinated on the sidewalk from his balcony. Katrin froze. This wasn't the turn of events she'd expected. Why here? How would Lutshy find them? What was going on?
"I meant to say that this is probably the last time you'll see this cage... er... as... new... people, so to speak. So I suggest you take a closer look," Gaga spat. During his speech, Gomez took his silver Adidas club membership card from his wallet and, after pressing a mysterious button hidden behind his apartment number, swiped it through the reader protruding from the door. He'd always envied Smolak's gold card, which entitled him to a year-round 20 percent discount at McDonald's, and he promised himself he'd definitely get it someday. The machine behind the door creaked.
"Identification: Gomez, Stan: Food commander, Dignity: gold stripe for heroism in the looting operations at Żabka. Parents' names..." Gomez hated that part. "...Stanisław and Kazimierz. Identification successful. Please enter the password.
" "Huge bitch," Gomez said through his teeth, trying to ignore the snide comments.
"Password correct. Please come in."
The doors creaked open. Deputy Smolak ran in first, ignoring the others. He was truly ashamed of his heritage. The rest obediently followed. After another identification, this time by voice, Gomez managed to open the elevator.
"Get in. The great Smolak is waiting," he said, pointing to his stolen Nokia 3310 and a missed call from his boss from a minute earlier.
MEANWHILE AT LUCZI'S:
Łuczi placed his cell phone on the desk. He heard the panicked voices of his friends, heard one of the tracksuit men brutally end the call. He had little time. There was no telling what could have happened by now. Without a word, he rose from his chair. He packed the most essentials into the pockets of the tattered trousers he used solely to save his friends' asses. He had a feeling this time wouldn't be so easy. He clipped the flashlight to his belt and tucked the Finka in its case into the shaft of his shoe. He hid the caps and a small bottle of flammable oil in the inside pocket of his cap. He'd cherished it since he'd slapped it on Gomez last winter. All that was left was to apply protective makeup. He took poster paints from the cabinet and carefully mixed black and green. Then he smeared the resulting color on his cheeks and forehead. He stood by the window, staring at the ominous shapes of the building opposite.
"I'll manage... After all, I'm an SS Partisan...
" **************************************
Leaving the building, Łuczi noticed it wasn't as dark as he thought. On the stairs, he bowed to Mr. Kluska from number 22, who gave him a rather strange look. No wonder, Łuczi was working in full uniform today. On the way to Pasi's block, he also encountered old Szmitowa, who, as usual, had to speak up when someone passed by, and Felek Bator, taking out the garbage.
Someone was already standing by the staircase. Łuczi recognized it as CiCin, Mateusz's own brother. He stood in front of the door, desperately tugging on the doorknob. Lately, he'd been having terrible trouble adapting to technological advancements. Especially the intercom.
"Open up, bitch!
" "Please enter the code," said a voice from inside the building. CiCin was getting increasingly nervous. Łuczi decided to come to the rescue.
"Hey, CiCin. Having trouble again?
" "Respect, Łuczi," he replied. "What about you? Back to work...
" "You know, servants, not best men...
" "I understand. I heard Mateusz is at Pasi's. I'm just going to call him because Gruby is telling him to bring potatoes. But that scoundrel won't open the door for me again.
" "I'll help you." And speaking of Mateusz and the rest, that's a problem...
*******************************
"Well, that must have been a mess," CiCin said, carefully picking up the SIM card lying next to several pieces of broken casing. Łuczi already knew that his friends' last steps in this building ended at apartment number 30. He identified the hair he found as belonging to Mateusz. Now he carefully began examining the door, so as not to accidentally set off the alarm. Strange marks were trailing across the wooden surface. Łuczi took out his best magnifying glass; the marks turned out to be fingerprints tainted by some brown goo. The largest accumulation of them was visible right next to the apartment number. He carefully folded the tag aside.
"Bingo," he said to himself.
"Wow," CiCin added, watching the device slide out of the door with admiration. "Isn't that one of those idiots' card?" Oh, Jesus…
Łuczi swiped his card through the reader, and the identification triggered general hilarity.
"Please enter your password," the machine said to the surprised boys. This was too much for CiCin.
"No! Another waste of money! What kind of world do we live in? I was hoping for a normal… Can't a normal world do without passwords? What fate… Who gave others the right to decide for me, what kind of person came up with this nonsense? It's just nerve-racking…
" "As far as I know, in this building, it was Borucka, that drunkard's wife, who took the initiative…" Łuczi interjected.
"My blood boils just looking at it!!! You fucking arrogant bitch!!!
" "The password is correct. Please come in." Something creaked, and the door swung open.
"Thanks, CiCin. You saved me a little detonation." Łuczi put the fuse back in his pocket.
Their task in the elevator was greatly simplified. Someone had forgotten to close it properly, and a five-minute fumble with the door was enough for it to open. The only way down was down. CiCin pressed a button with the Adidas logo, and the elevator sped off in that direction.
It was completely dark downstairs. Luchi shone his flashlight. They continued down a straight corridor. No sign of any traps. About fifteen steps apart lay parts of Katrin's phone. "Not good," Luchi thought, "I hope it's not too late..."
Smolak
sat on a high chair, dressed in his formal tracksuit, holding a glass of cherry liqueur. He looked at the assembled group with contempt and superiority. The prisoners were seated on a bench stolen from the city park. They were in the Command Center. It looked like a huge chamber, about 25 meters high and over fifty meters wide. Electronic devices were scattered everywhere, the purpose of which none of the brave five knew. Every now and then, Smolak would be approached with reports from the day. Suddenly, Mateusz froze. His close friend, commonly known as Violetta, approached the dais. She was dressed in a yellow and navy tracksuit, bowed, and said loudly,
"Oh, Great Smolak. Forgive me for interrupting your rest, but I have a very important matter to convey.
" "I hope it's important. I hate it when someone wastes my time.
" "These printouts clearly show that the moonshine produced by your makers no longer reaches as many customers as last year, or even two years ago..."
Everyone's jaw dropped, perhaps most of all Mati's.
"The competition is consuming us. We have two options. Either cut jobs and invest more money into moonshine to increase consumption...
" "Or?" Smolak interrupted, not entirely satisfied with the first option.
"...or eliminate the competition." Once you've made your decision, I'd appreciate the information; it's needed to prepare a report on the sale. I thank you for granting me this audience.
"The second one. We need to begin mobilizing troops immediately. I also have people here willing to undergo resocialization, who will join our ranks after it's completed."
Violka glanced at the bench. Her face paled terribly. Pasi couldn't contain himself; he had to shout something:
"Detention, you liar!!! When I get out of here, I'll get you the longest one!"
Smolak raised his hand, drained the rest of his glass, and dismissed the half-naked, fourteen-year-old lackeys who were fanning him with palm leaves.
"Listen, you idiots...
" "Stop talking, Smolak. We all know who the idiot is here," Mroczek began.
"Someday your gay reign will end," Mateusz added, "and you'll be nothing again."
Smolak signaled to Artur, who approached and punched Mati in the face.
"Will you hit me too? Please, don't be shy!" Katrin shouted in defense of her friend.
"Leave Arturo!" Smolak shouted from his mock throne. "He'll pay for this humiliation in front of Papa Tomasz with a heavier sentence. I have a fantastic proposition for you. Let's just say I won't torture or kill you. Although I'd be happy if you finally stopped polluting the fresh air of Minsk, I'll try and make an exception. Let me introduce you to someone. Professor, could you excuse me for a moment?" Smolak stammered into the walkie-talkie.
"Are we polluting the air?" Marta was slowly getting nervous. "There's no aura of that foul stench around my window!"
"You wouldn't understand," he yelled. "This is the smell of life..."
At that moment, all the hostages burst out laughing. Of course, Smolak wasn't amused. After a moment, a figure approached the throne. Suddenly, the group fell silent. They recognized the professor as the squire from their block, Mr. Leyman... Smolak laughed mockingly.
"Professor, would you like to speak?
" "Of course, Great Smolak," Leyman said with a peasant accent. "I'd like to tell the hostages sitting here about my fantastic invention and present it. Siulim, would you mind?"
Siulim nodded and, from behind the dais, rolled out a cart carrying a cardboard box.
"Thank you very much. Unfortunately, not everyone I want to show the power of my creation to is here, but oh well. I'll settle for just this many of you."
Mateusz and Katrin swallowed hard at the same time.
"Ladies and gentlemen, here's a 2005 Pracz," said Cieciu, taking a motorcycle helmet with something resembling Christmas tree lights on the sides out of the box. "A reliable and effective brain depressor.
" "Fuck," he summed up Pasi's situation.
"I've been interested in you kids for a long time. Honestly, my interest has been in eliminating your pathetic brains from our pure society. I don't know where my resentment comes from. Maybe it's because you always leave so much trash behind in front of my building? Or maybe it's because you don't show me the respect I deserve?
" "Kiss me somewhere, Cieciu! Respect isn't due to a tracksuit's coworkers..." Mroczek was silenced by Gaga. Katrin struggled ineffectively in her bonds. The laces were holding terribly tight. Mateusz was cursing under his breath, Marcie seemed about to cry, and Pasi seemed absent. Maybe he was calling for help from the energy?
"As I said, I was interested in getting rid of you once and for all, or at least subordinating you to some higher power. Now I've found such a power..." Smolak bowed to the rest of the crowd, who applauded. "Great Smolak offered me cooperation when he learned I was conducting research on my invention. He turned out to be a very helpful companion; he wants the same things as I do. Together, we decided that getting rid of you would be too easy; we wanted to increase your suffering to some extent. So we decided that you would become one of us..." The legs of a yellow tracksuit, adorned with three stripes on both sides, peeked out from under Professor Leyman's lab coat. "And we intend to incorporate you into our community.
" "Nooooooooo!!!!!!! Never!!! We'd rather sacrifice our bodies than be like you!" the interested ones shouted one after another.
"Yes, ladies and gentlemen. The resocialization process will begin tomorrow at 12:00." Say goodbye to your selves… To give you a brief overview of how Pracz 2005 works, I'll give you a brief presentation. "Sail, would you mind?"
Sail followed the professor's instructions and led a struggling young boy up to the podium. Unfortunately, it was Dajmos, Marta's schoolmate, known for his controversial views and a huge aversion to tracksuits. Marta howled. "Except him..." Leyman and Smolak were clearly pleased.
"So," Leyman spoke up, "there are casualties in every war...
" Sail, aided by Gomez, tied Dajmos by the hands to two posts. The professor slowly approached him with Pracz 2005.
"Do you have any last wishes?
" "Yes, faggot!" he shouted. "Shove Pracz up your ass and bang Smolak. He likes it...
" "Please continue, Professor." Smolak was a little irritated by this remark. The professor put a helmet on the boy and fastened it with Velcro straps. Three of them, of course. He pulled the remote from his pocket, pressed the red button, and stepped back slightly. Just in case. Everyone heard an unpleasant screech, and then silence fell, broken only by the five future tracksuit-clad men cursing against Smolak's majesty. After a minute, the professor approached the now calm Dajmos and took the Pracz off his head.
"How are you feeling, boy?
" "Fucking great, man, what a treat!!! Can I do it again? Oh, sorry, Great Smolak, I completely forgot to pay you homage. Forgive me...
" "Nothing happened," the leader was pleased. Leyman too. After a moment, he turned to Katrin. "You'll be the last one, you clever one... And before your own resocialization process, you'll be forced to have a chat with each of them. Now, back to your cell with them!!! Arturo, what am I paying you for, you fucking slacker! To twelve with them!!!
*****************************
"Madafaka, it's so dirty here." Okay, let's go back Luchi, I'll bring those potatoes... - CiCin sighed.
"No way. We have to do something. I sense trouble. "
They walked down the corridor.
"Wait, the door. It's clean," Luchi stated after a thorough inspection. "We're going in.
" "As you wish, as you wish. "
Luchi slowly opened the door. The two of them peered out and their breath was taken away. A vast space somewhere underground…
"How do we get in, McGyver?" CiCin said ironically. There were quite a few people milling around.
"No problem." Luchi rummaged in a secret pocket inside his cap and pulled out a vial of burning oil. "See that machine, right there? I'll throw that vial at it and there'll be a huge commotion. We'll use it and quickly run to the left…
" "…and change into one of the uniforms hanging against the wall," CiCin finished.
"Yes, sir. I'll count to three and throw it." Then I count to five until there's enough smoke and we run, okay?
"Yeah. I'll take some navy blue..."
They did as planned. The bottle splattered beautifully, and not only did it create a lot of smoke, but the machine caught fire. The tracksuits panicked. After a few minutes, Łuczi and CiCin were walking around the rooms dressed like true Orthodox Jews. They realized they had to find their companions as quickly as possible. They entered the next room, which looked much better than the rest. They decided to look around a bit, but they were still cautious. In the center stood something resembling a Negro ruler's throne, and on a small wooden table beside it lay a helmet. CiCin immediately ran over; he'd always dreamed of riding a Harley. He took the helmet in his hands; he'd never seen one with so many bells and whistles...
"Wow, that's class," he said, putting the helmet on. "Racz 2005?" I've never heard of such a thing…
"Neither have I," Luchi confirmed. "Just look."
At the opposite end of the room was a sign: DESCENT TO CELLS. STAIRS TO THE RIGHT.
"Well, I'm going. If they dragged them here, it certainly wasn't as part of a subculture integration program…" CiCin said, putting the helmet back in its place. At least, he thought it was. The helmet fell to the floor with a thud, the lights attached to the sides shattered or fell off, and the wires were destroyed by something like spontaneous combustion. Luchi winced. As they could have guessed, a moment later they heard the thumping of soft soles, probably alerted by the noise.
"Shit," CiCin cursed. There was nowhere to hide. The friends stood with their backs to the corridor from which the footsteps were coming and pretended nothing had happened. They were wearing uniforms, after all. A few seconds later, someone ran into the room.
"What happened here?" – and seeing Leyman's shattered invention on the floor, he said, "Hey, guys, Smoli's is going to be a mess... Gee. Okay, I won't say anything. Gomez is actually on duty right now, but he fell asleep. At most, he'll get the blame."
Luchi was ready to jump and spray the victim with chloroform, but the voice sounded familiar. Without thinking, he turned around. He expected it to be Emil. He, however, was frozen in place.
"Relax, we're just here for our friends. We don't want to harm you in any way," CiCin
said. "Let's take them and go." "Okay," he replied.
"I think I don't understand something..." Luchi mused. "Just like that?
" "Right.
" "Why?
" "I'll explain later. I'll take you to them."
They went down the stairs to the right. The guards were probably having some kind of party, because empty bottles of high-octane drinks were strewn about the corridor, and someone was sleeping here and there in the corner. Techno trance music seemed to be coming from deep within the underground complex. Emil grabbed the keys from the desk and handed them to the guys.
"Twelve, I'll wait here."
"Thanks," Łuczi grumbled, and when they'd gone a bit, he asked, "Do you think he can be trusted?
" "Unfortunately, we have to take a risk...
" "It's twelve. I'm opening. "
The key scraped in the lock. Łuczi immediately pulled out a flashlight and shone it directly in his companions' eyes so they wouldn't be too happy to see them.
"Shut up. Don't talk. Be quiet.
" "Okay, Łuczi, it's okay, we were just coming up with an escape plan," said Mateusz, poking around in the wall with one of the girls' hairpins. He'd already created a nice little tunnel, 10 centimeters in diameter and about fifteen centimeters deep. Pasi was asleep in the corner, Mroczek had been playing tic-tac-toe with himself for four hours, Marta was thinking, and Katrin had unraveled a piece of sweater and started making a bracelet out of the wool.
"So, maybe you'll take us up on our offer?" asked CiCin.
"Of course you will." You could have come earlier, it's getting cold," Katrin said, dusting herself off. The rest were gathering just as quickly.
"How did you get here, moose?" Mati asked curiously.
"Hey, Mateusz, Gruby told you to bring potatoes from the basement..."
His brother shrugged. A moment later they were out of the cell. On the way down the corridor, Łuczi told the story of how he got to the Command Center and how he helped Emil, whom they immediately saw.
"Well, man, Emil!" Mroczek shouted. "You finally came to your senses!
" "It's just a shame it took so long," the converted man replied. "You must have had a terrible time in that cell... And the worst was with Leyman's invention."
Pasi jumped up.
"Quickly, to the main room. We have to destroy Pracz 2005 before Smolak uses it for his nefarious purposes!"
CiCin rubbed his hands together. A few moments ago, Marta had told him about Pracz and Dajmos.
"I think I've already taken care of it... It's not fit for use.
" "As far as I know, that was the only model; we didn't have the funds to build another one," Emil added.
"Well, that's all the better," Łuczi was visibly excited. "We're heading for the exit. Are you coming with us?
" "If I may. I'm tired of being treated like a lackey and a workman," he admitted, lowering his head.
They were just reaching the corridor exit when a sleepy Gomez blocked their path. Seeing Emil with the fugitives, his eyes flashed with anger. He pulled a round object from under the top cuff of his workwear. Łuczi's eagle-eyed gaze spotted the inscription: Alarm.
"So, choose. Either you submit to the test on Pracz, or I'll have a much worse time with you... And the Tribunal awaits you, traitor. Breaking your promise to Majesty is punishable by up to twenty years in solitary confinement.
" Gomez smiled slyly. Katrin shivered at the sight of his orange teeth.
Łuczi tried to pull his stun gun from his back pocket, but it was no use. Pasi suddenly had a brilliant idea. He stood centrally behind CiCin and deduced that by using about 30 percent of his strength, the friend he pushed would fall directly onto Gomez, with any luck knocking the button out of his hand. He did, as he had decided. The unsuspecting CiCin landed with his full weight on Gomez, who was so surprised he didn't even have time to activate the alarm. The button rolled across the cool floor.
"Success!!!" Pasi yelled. "We're going down!"
Łuczi bent over the fallen man, whispered a few words, and tasered him. The entire group calmly ran into the central chamber. Mateusz, unfortunately, tripped over the unconscious Gomez and fell. So unfortunately, that his knee accidentally landed on the device, setting off the alarm, mobilizing over three hundred thugs to search the Headquarters.
"Fuck!" Mateusz just realized what he had done. "Quick! Hide!!!"
It's impossible to think in panic. The group hid under the rather high platform on which Smolak's throne stood. They all managed to get there in time, and there was even a fair amount of space left, as the floor dipped below the wooden platform, creating a convenient hiding spot. Marta put a finger to her lips. They were already approaching. Through a gap in the wall at floor level, Mroczek spotted Smolak and his closest companion approaching. Arturo knelt before the platform, and Smolak climbed up to the throne, climbing on the back of a lower-ranking colleague. The hall was already filled with tracksuit-clad men in all colors. Everyone was chanting Smolak's name. He held out his hands to silence them, took a swig from a one-liter bottle of homemade moonshine, and then smashed it at his feet. Due to the leaky floor, a good portion of the booze had seeped into the hideout; CiCin suffered the worst, spilling it on his face.
"Comrades!" Smoli began. "You probably knew about the prisoners we're holding, terrorists harmful to our interests, who were supposed to be rehabilitated tomorrow at 12:00. "
The crowd responded with loud howls and the clanging of brass knuckles.
"Unfortunately, despite our diligent security, they managed to escape. The secret services are on their trail, but I would ask everyone to contribute a little to this search. Here are their likenesses." The leader held up a gray piece of paper with the fugitives' faces drawn in charcoal, more ape-like than human, created from memory by the artistically gifted Siulim.
"The finders will be handsomely rewarded!" The crowd began applauding Smolak again.
Meanwhile, CiCin wasn't doing too well. The eighty-proof moonshine was making it difficult for him to breathe normally. The rest watched the gathering intently through the cracks. "I think I need to smoke..." he thought, and pulled a pack of Red & Whites and some matches from his pocket. "Okay, maybe they won't notice." The moment he lit the cigarette, Emil turned around.
"No!!!!!!!!!!!" he shouted. "He's a clean-cut man! No, don't throw it!"
It was too late. The lit match fell to the ground. For a moment, there was a terrible silence. Smolak himself fell silent as well, hearing the voice beneath his throne. In an instant, the moonshine burst into orange flames, and the platform instantly caught fire. Saving their lives and risking their dignity, everyone quickly slipped into the chamber. What they saw exceeded their wildest expectations. The flames spread at an incredible speed. "They must be cleaning their equipment with that moonshine of theirs..." Łuczi thought, planning the shortest escape route. It led right through the center of the room. They saw Smolak. He was just beating up the already conscious Gomez for not borrowing fire extinguishers from a store in their area. Łuczi ran to the first tracksuit he came across and deftly pulled his phone out of his pocket. He tossed it to Marta, who quickly dialed the police and, posing as a senile old woman, reported the noisy partying of the youth from number 30 and the strange, spirit-smelling substance leaking through the ceiling from number 48.
They were the first to squeeze into the elevator and raced upwards. Finally, they were out in the fresh air.
"Thanks, Emil," Mateusz began. "Thanks to you, we got out...
" "No problem. But I have to go now. This organization has left a mark on me for life. I have to hide from it eventually. I'll leave. If you ever need help... I'll find you."
And he disappeared.
"Dude!!!!!" the rest shouted after him, Mroczek the loudest. Within a minute, 26 police vans and three fire engines had arrived. The satisfied friends watched the arrests with blissful calm on their faces. Finally, three burly cops led the thrashing Smolak out of the cage. Their eyes met.
"I'll get you, you filthy bastards!" Smolak yelled from the backseat of the van, sandwiched between a sunburned Gomez and a sooty Robcio.
Everyone laughed at his words. "Come on, we have
to buy CiCin a beer for his daring cigarette stunt," Katrin shouted.
"But just so you know... I planned it all," CiCin insisted.
"Yea ... END OF PART ONE, TO BE CONTINUED SOON
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