Chapter 122

When I stopped to think about what I was doing, I hit the brakes and the truck skidded, stopping on the side of the flooded road. It must have been several kilometers from Moscow because it was no longer raining there and on both sides stood some imposing, dark trees. The night was so close and the road was so deserted that I didn’t hesitate for a moment: I tore off my sweater and T-shirt in one go. I opened the door of the vehicle and took off my shoes; the cold and humidity of the asphalt crossed the soles of my feet quickly when I lowered my legs.

I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the change, but—

Nothing happened. I started again, with the same result.

I couldn’t even feel the stinging in my gums or the heat running down my arms and back, nothing. I threw my fist at the steering wheel, a growl of rage rumbling in my chest. I bent over until I was resting my elbows on my thighs and screamed as loud as I could, until I was out of breath and felt my throat burn