[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
roadside filling station, store and garage, with a house and barn sitting
closely behind the station. As he got nearer to the clump of buildings, he
moved more cautiously. There was no law outside the sterile area.
He had been traveling in the dry ditch on the right side of the road,
instinctively; and the autumn-dried vegetation on either side of him was tall
enough to screen him from anyone but an observer concentrating on the ditch
with a pair of binoculars. Field grass, coneflower and tansy were mingled
along the side of the ditch away from the road; and frequent stalks of
milkweed stood stiff and rustling in the wind, their pods split open and
emptied at this late stage of the year.
Nonetheless, as he came closer to the buildings, he grew more cautious,
crouching down so that he could only see the roofs ahead of him above the tops
of the vegetation.
He slowed at last to a stop, less than a hundred yards from the rusted and
broken shapes of the gasoline pumps he could
see through the grass and milkweed stems. He was in something of a quandary.
If Eileen had taken shelter in the ruins up ahead, then he wanted to get to
her as soon as possible. But if there was somebody else instead of her in the
buildings, or if others were holding her captive there, the last thing he
wanted to do was to walk boldly up to the place in plain sight.
He turned and left the ditch, crawling on his belly into the grass and weeds
of the field to his right. He made a swing of about twenty or thirty meters
out into the field and then headed once more toward the house and store, with
which he estimated he was now level.
The airsuit was clumsy for crawling along the ground; and it was little enough
compensation that here, down against the earth, the wind bothered him a great
deal less, so that it seemed much warmer. In fact, with the effort of
crawling, he was soon sweating heavily. His knees and elbows were protected
from scrapes by the tough material of the airsuit;
but rocks and stumps poked and bruised him, while little, sharp lengths of
broken grass and weed managed to get in the open neck of his airsuit and down
his collar.
He was working up a good, hot anger at these minor tortures, when a sudden
realization checked him and he almost laughed out loud. He had paused to rest
a second and catch his breath long enough to swear under it when it struck him
abruptly that, in the face of all common sense, he was enjoying this. The
situation might be both dangerous and miserable; but, except for a few moments
on the Mass and after the train wreck, he had never felt so alive in his life.
It was something to discover.
Having rested enough, he continued, less concerned with his minor discomforts
and more alert to the general situation he was in. And it was a good thing he
was so; for even at that he nearly blundered into trouble.
If he had not been crawling along with his nose no more than three
hand's-breadths above the ground, he would never have noticed the thin, dark
transverse line that appeared among the weeds just ahead. As it was he saw it
without recognizing what it was until he had crawled within inches of it. His
first thought was that it was simply a long, thin grass stem fallen on its
side. But this theory evaporated as he got closer. Still, it was not until he
was actually up against it that he recognized it for what it actually was a
thin, taut wire stretching across the field just below the tops of the weeds.
Page 62
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Had he been walking he not only would not have seen it until he tripped over
it, it would never have occurred to him to look for any such thing in the
first place. As it was, encountering it slowly, he had a chance to think about
what it might mean; and the friendly old cluttered attic of his memory helped
him out with bits and pieces of information read in the past. The wire could
only be there to stop intruders like himself; and it might connect with
anything from a warning system to a nearby cache of explosives.
He lay there, thinking about it. If nothing else, the wire was evidence that
there was someone already holed up in the buildings ahead; and if that was so,
then Eileen, if she was there at all, was almost undoubtedly 1 prisoner.
Charity would not be likely among sick and dying people in this decayed,
inhospitable land. But if there were unfriendly people in the
buildings possibly even now keeping a watch Chaz would have his work cut out
for him to get to the buildings without being seen.
He lifted his head among the weeds to squint at the sky overhead. As always,
the sun was invisible behind the sullen haze and cloudbank; but from the light
he judged that the early winter afternoon was not more than an hour or two
from darkness. When the dark came, it would come quickly.
There were no lingering sunsets, nowadays nor any moon or
stars visible as guides, once the night had come.
Just at this moment he stiffened where he lay, like a hunted animal hearing
the sounds of its hunters. A voice cried from somewhere far behind him, in the
opposite direction from the house. The words it called were recognizable,
half-chanted, on a high, jeering note: "Rover!
Red Rover! Red Rover, come over & "
The voice died away and there was silence again. He waited; but it did not
call again. He looked at the wire once more, and estimated that he could
wriggle under it. It had evidently been set high so as to clear all the humps
and rises of the ground along its route. He rolled over on his back and began
to wriggle forward again.
Once past the wire, he turned belly-down again and continued on at as good a
speed as he could make without thrashing around in the weeds and perhaps
drawing attention. He thought that he should not be too far from the
relatively open area that had once been a yard surrounding the buildings; and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
roadside filling station, store and garage, with a house and barn sitting
closely behind the station. As he got nearer to the clump of buildings, he
moved more cautiously. There was no law outside the sterile area.
He had been traveling in the dry ditch on the right side of the road,
instinctively; and the autumn-dried vegetation on either side of him was tall
enough to screen him from anyone but an observer concentrating on the ditch
with a pair of binoculars. Field grass, coneflower and tansy were mingled
along the side of the ditch away from the road; and frequent stalks of
milkweed stood stiff and rustling in the wind, their pods split open and
emptied at this late stage of the year.
Nonetheless, as he came closer to the buildings, he grew more cautious,
crouching down so that he could only see the roofs ahead of him above the tops
of the vegetation.
He slowed at last to a stop, less than a hundred yards from the rusted and
broken shapes of the gasoline pumps he could
see through the grass and milkweed stems. He was in something of a quandary.
If Eileen had taken shelter in the ruins up ahead, then he wanted to get to
her as soon as possible. But if there was somebody else instead of her in the
buildings, or if others were holding her captive there, the last thing he
wanted to do was to walk boldly up to the place in plain sight.
He turned and left the ditch, crawling on his belly into the grass and weeds
of the field to his right. He made a swing of about twenty or thirty meters
out into the field and then headed once more toward the house and store, with
which he estimated he was now level.
The airsuit was clumsy for crawling along the ground; and it was little enough
compensation that here, down against the earth, the wind bothered him a great
deal less, so that it seemed much warmer. In fact, with the effort of
crawling, he was soon sweating heavily. His knees and elbows were protected
from scrapes by the tough material of the airsuit;
but rocks and stumps poked and bruised him, while little, sharp lengths of
broken grass and weed managed to get in the open neck of his airsuit and down
his collar.
He was working up a good, hot anger at these minor tortures, when a sudden
realization checked him and he almost laughed out loud. He had paused to rest
a second and catch his breath long enough to swear under it when it struck him
abruptly that, in the face of all common sense, he was enjoying this. The
situation might be both dangerous and miserable; but, except for a few moments
on the Mass and after the train wreck, he had never felt so alive in his life.
It was something to discover.
Having rested enough, he continued, less concerned with his minor discomforts
and more alert to the general situation he was in. And it was a good thing he
was so; for even at that he nearly blundered into trouble.
If he had not been crawling along with his nose no more than three
hand's-breadths above the ground, he would never have noticed the thin, dark
transverse line that appeared among the weeds just ahead. As it was he saw it
without recognizing what it was until he had crawled within inches of it. His
first thought was that it was simply a long, thin grass stem fallen on its
side. But this theory evaporated as he got closer. Still, it was not until he
was actually up against it that he recognized it for what it actually was a
thin, taut wire stretching across the field just below the tops of the weeds.
Page 62
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Had he been walking he not only would not have seen it until he tripped over
it, it would never have occurred to him to look for any such thing in the
first place. As it was, encountering it slowly, he had a chance to think about
what it might mean; and the friendly old cluttered attic of his memory helped
him out with bits and pieces of information read in the past. The wire could
only be there to stop intruders like himself; and it might connect with
anything from a warning system to a nearby cache of explosives.
He lay there, thinking about it. If nothing else, the wire was evidence that
there was someone already holed up in the buildings ahead; and if that was so,
then Eileen, if she was there at all, was almost undoubtedly 1 prisoner.
Charity would not be likely among sick and dying people in this decayed,
inhospitable land. But if there were unfriendly people in the
buildings possibly even now keeping a watch Chaz would have his work cut out
for him to get to the buildings without being seen.
He lifted his head among the weeds to squint at the sky overhead. As always,
the sun was invisible behind the sullen haze and cloudbank; but from the light
he judged that the early winter afternoon was not more than an hour or two
from darkness. When the dark came, it would come quickly.
There were no lingering sunsets, nowadays nor any moon or
stars visible as guides, once the night had come.
Just at this moment he stiffened where he lay, like a hunted animal hearing
the sounds of its hunters. A voice cried from somewhere far behind him, in the
opposite direction from the house. The words it called were recognizable,
half-chanted, on a high, jeering note: "Rover!
Red Rover! Red Rover, come over & "
The voice died away and there was silence again. He waited; but it did not
call again. He looked at the wire once more, and estimated that he could
wriggle under it. It had evidently been set high so as to clear all the humps
and rises of the ground along its route. He rolled over on his back and began
to wriggle forward again.
Once past the wire, he turned belly-down again and continued on at as good a
speed as he could make without thrashing around in the weeds and perhaps
drawing attention. He thought that he should not be too far from the
relatively open area that had once been a yard surrounding the buildings; and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]