Strontium Swamp. James Axler

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ a person had to try twice as hard against the atmosphere.

      Looking around at her five companions, Mildred could see that Doc was almost unconscious and the other four were barely able to move. Come to that, she felt herself teetering on the brink of unconsciousness. She looked up at the sky, squinting into the intense light. It was impossible to see beyond the covering of clouds, but she figured that it was the middle of the day. If they succumbed to unconsciousness now, they could dehydrate and risk exposure and sunstroke. She lifted her head and looked around. Now that they were out of the valley in which the redoubt entrance was housed, she could see why the wall of sand had tried to cave in upon them.

      The surrounding area was a flat desert, with no peaks or valleys, and no scrub that she could see through the chemassisted heat haze. The entire area was flat and covered with sands. At some time, the area could have been arable, but the intense buffeting of the chem storms had left the area a wasteland of desert, all features of the land covered by layers of sand. That had to have been what had happened to the redoubt entrance. Once in a valley, the dip had been filled by the sand, and in opening the door they had done nothing more than allow the sea of grains to shift once more.

      As she tried to focus on the area where the redoubt entrance had been, and where the sands were already settling into their new pattern, she found darkness creeping into the corner of her vision. Alarmed, she battled against it, looked for the others. Doc was down, Jak was trying to get to his feet but stumbling and falling once more. She couldn’t locate J.B., he had to be behind her somewhere. She caught a flash of Krysty’s hair as the woman tried to stay awake, shaking her mane before her head slumped once more. Where was Ryan? He had to be behind her somewhere, too…

      The blackness closed in, blotting out all else.

      RYAN FELT THAT he had to black out all else and concentrate on keeping awake. The howling wind swept through him, chilling him to the marrow, and he felt the heavy splash of the rain on his back and sides, could almost feel the acids eating through his clothes. He burrowed deeper into the sand, feeling the exposed areas buffeted less and less, but always mindful of the new danger. If he should accidentally breathe the sand, clogging his nostrils and lungs with the sharp grains, then all this would be for nothing. He was still weakened, and didn’t know how much he could fight against that implacable enemy. The sand around him was still, protected him from the worst of the storm, but held its own dangers.

      It was important he stay triple red, yet everything in him wanted to curl up and go to sleep.

      If he did, he would close his eye forever.

      There was no way of telling how long it lasted. Only that each second could have been an hour, and each hour a day. It was all as one: the winds, the sand, the rain…

      But gradually he became aware of a lessening in the winds and the rain, the sand stung his skin less often. He didn’t dare relax, in case his body give in and sink into a fatal unconsciousness. If anything, he redoubled his efforts to stay alert, to try to determine what was going on around him.

      Even after he was sure, he waited a little longer. Gradually, Ryan disinterred himself from his sandy tomb and, every muscle and tendon creaking, rose unsteadily to his feet.

      The sky above was clear, the stars twinkling peacefully above as though the previous hours had never occurred.

      The storm was over.

      MILDRED FELT LIKE a dog turd that had been left on the sidewalk to dry out for an eternity. The heat was still burning, but nowhere near as intense as it had been before. She opened her eyes and immediately screwed them tight again. She had been lying on her back and the light was too bright to take. She rolled over, feeling the hot sand against her face, and opened her eyes again. After adjusting, she tentatively raised herself onto all fours. Once she felt steady, she groped for some of the bottled water they had rescued from the redoubt and distributed among themselves. It was tepid and unpleasant, but it was liquid, and it helped rehydrate her. She was slick with sweat, yet the military OD green jacket she wore had covered her skin and saved her from too much direct exposure to the sun.

      But what of the others?

      Mildred slowly raised herself to her feet and looked around. Jak was sitting up, drinking. Like her, he looked as though he had only just regained consciousness. He managed a weak grin and slowly rose. Ryan and Krysty seemed to be coming around slowly, and J.B. appeared by her side as though from nowhere.

      â€œDoc’s not so good,” he said simply, guiding her to where the old man lay. He had less covering than the rest of them, and so had suffered most from being unconscious under the harsh sun. Mildred settled herself beside him. His skin was burned and flaky, and there was froth flecked at the corners of his mouth. He was mumbling incoherently to himself.

      While J.B. lifted his head, she used some of the water to wet his lips and gums, then pried away the dry skin of his mouth where it stuck to his teeth and gums. He reacted to this, and she risked pouring a little of the liquid into his mouth. He choked at first, but soon began to swallow.

      While J.B. continued to feed Doc the water, Mildred fumbled in her jacket pockets for salt tablets. She had been able to replenish her supply from the redoubt its infirmary. Doc would be in dire need of these after being so long exposed to the sun.

      By the time Doc had recovered enough to realize where he was, Krysty, Ryan and Jak had joined Mildred and J.B., clustered around the old man.

      Doc managed a weak grin. “Always the liability, I fear,” he whispered through chapped lips. “If I were a horse, then the knacker would be a necessity. And if I were a carpenter—”

      â€œShut up, you old fool,” Mildred interrupted. “You’re in no fit state to be talking sense, let alone the drivel you always come out with. You need to drink some more, for a start.”

      Doc agreed, taking a water bottle from her.

      Ryan had been surveying the area while they stood over Doc, and he didn’t like what he saw. Stretching in every direction was nothing but sand. It was an almost entirely flat landscape, only the occasional undulation of a dune to break the monotony. The sand covered everything so completely that even now he couldn’t be too sure where the redoubt entrance had been situated.

      J.B. joined him. “Doesn’t look so good, does it?”

      Ryan shook his head. “Nothing but this fireblasted desert, and no way of getting back to make a jump.”

      â€œWhich direction gives us the best chance?”

      Ryan shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Just looks like sand, as far as you can see. Figure the best thing to do is form into pairs and fan out, see how much territory we can survey.” He looked up at the sky. “Hard to tell with this cloud, but I reckon we’ve got a couple of hours before sundown.”

      â€œOnly plan that makes sense,” J.B. stated. “But one of us should go solo. I can’t see Doc being up to it,” he murmured, indicating the prone figure.

      Ryan shook his head. “Mebbe a good thing. Doc can be our anchor. Gives us somewhere to head back to.”

      â€œMy dear boy, you are too kind—making an asset from my infirmity,” Doc wheezed. “But, I suppose, if it is all I can do, it is, at least, something.”

      The five companions used their baggage СКАЧАТЬ