"Axler, James - Deathlands 050 - Pandora's Reboubt - Nick Pollotta" - читать интересную книгу автора (Axler James)

"A LAW," Doc stated, extending the launch tube. The sights automatically popped up, and the trigger button slid into view. "A light antitank weapon."
"You can't launch a LAW in here," Ryan admonished, skirting a copse of dead trees. "The backwash will fry us!"
"That's why I am going out on the roof."
"What?" Krysty said.
"It is the only way." Doc pulled over a crate and climbed on top, one hand holding the LAW while the other clawed at the ceiling panels. They were easily removed, exposing an internal web of bracings and a veined metal hatch. He undid the latch, and the hatch was almost yanked out of his grip by the wind of their speed.
"Hold on!" Ryan shouted. Leviathan jerked to the left, the right, slowed, spun in a half circle, then lurched forward again. Jak left the ammo bin and moved over to grab Doc's leg and help him stay standing.
"But," Dean began hesitantly, as if afraid of getting an answer, "if the missile Doesn't work..."
J.B. answered. "A LAW is meant for tanks. It'll punch straight through solid steel."
"What if its armour is too thick?" Dean asked. No one had anything to say in response. Once more, Leviathan bounced over a gully, the boxes and cans tumbling freely about the interior. Jak lost his grip on Doc, and momentarily the elderly man dangled from the roof, his legs kicking to find support.
"Sorry!" Jak gasped, rising from his knees to grab Doc again.
"Hold on tighter, Jak! I need stability!" J.B. shouted, "Ryan, can you give him a combat stretch?"
"No! We hold still for a second, and that thing'll core us like an apple!"
Counting steadily, Mildred watched as the Ranger bounded into view. "Twenty-one!"
Ryan dodged. The rainbow formed and Leviathan shuddered with sledgehammer force. Doc cried out and everybody heard the whoosh of the light antitank weapon launch as he fell to the floor.
"I missed," Doc thundered, climbing to his feet. Frustration distorted his features into a grimace. "It cannot be done. The terrain is too rugged."
"What was that explosion?" Mildred asked, raising her fists and lowering fingers in a steady count. "It sounded a lot louder than the others."
"Our Hummer," Dean announced, looking backward. "It's still there, but the supplies are on fire."
Krysty angled her sideview mirror to see better. A huge bonfire was trailing the tank, gouts of flame blowing out in wild directions as cans of the condensed fuel ignited. There was a constant barrage of popping sounds as their precious cargo of ammo started cooking off in the growing inferno.
Rushing to the rear blasterport, LB. cursed bitterly. "We've got plastique in there!" he cried. "The heat won't set it off. Plas burns easy and is as harmless as charcoal. But if a bullet hits a warm block of C-4 just right, the resulting blast will open this thing like a cheap sardine can!"
Dropping his vest of ammo, Dean took a deep breath and then slid aside the locking bolt of the rear door. Cinching his belt tight, the boy shoved the metal portal open. The wind buffeted him, and he grabbed the jamb for support. A chain from their bumper stretched to the bonfire on wheels. The windshield was gone, burning liquid dripped off the side panels, munitions rocketing every way, and fiery orange tongues licking insanely at the sky. Even with the wind coursing around the sides of the tank, the heat reaching them was tremendous.
"Can't see the Ranger!" Dean shouted. "Flames are too thick!"
"Twenty-one!" Mildred called out, and the Hummer blossomed with another detonation of deafening proportions.
"It's still there!"
"Gaia, what in hell are you doing?" Krysty demanded, her crimson hair splaying cut in a corona, as the boy stepped onto the motorcycle ramp, one hand clutching the door handle.
"Got to reach the chain and dump the Hummer,"
J.B. shouted, as a bullet zinged past them. "He's the lightest. Doc, grab a seat belt and hold on to me. I'll grab Dean by the waist."
"Me," Jak said, trying to push his way through. "Stronger than Dean."
"But I'm the lightest! Now do as I say!" Dean snapped, for a split second sounding exactly like his father.
"Get back in here!" Ryan commanded at the top of his lungs. "And close that bastard door!"
Dean gestured, "But, Dad, we-"
"Now, boy!"
The door was closed in sullen obedience and locked tight.
"Grab seats!" Ryan growled as he spit on each palm, one hand at a time. "This is going to be rough." Rocking the steering wheel, Leviathan began to fishtail. Again and again, Ryan jerked the wheel as if wrestling with an invisible opponent. The tank brutally swayed, boxes bursting from the storage cabinets. Doc went sprawling, his sword-stick nearly impaling its owner. Everybody else desperately clung to their seats. Ryan appeared to be seriously trying to remove the steering wheel, when the ride suddenly smoothed out and the vehicle lunged ahead with renewed speed.
"Trailer's loose," Krysty announced, her ribs aching from the tight safety harness across her chest. "Chain snapped."
"And the Ranger?" Mildred asked, hugging the Remington for support.
"Can't tell," Ryan said, glancing behind. Then he saw the flaming wreckage of the Hummer explode, a million flaming bits spraying everywhere as the indomitable Ranger plowed straight through the conflagration, neither wavering nor slowing.
"Still there," Krysty stated. She made the pronouncement sound as if she had something unclean in her mouth. "There's nothing left between us and it but air."
"Twenty-one!"
His temples throbbing, Ryan danced the heavy Leviathan once more. He couldn't keep this pace forever. His arms were sore from the unaccustomed strain, and every time Mildred called out the mark he damn near jumped out of his skin.
"Any ideas?" he asked.
"Tell you when I get one," Krysty answered, just as steady streams of tracers stitched the air on eitherХ side of Leviathan.
"Bracket fire!" J.B. shouted. "Trying to hold us still for a clean kill."
"The hell with that," J.B. said, cranking a hand-wheel to traverse the starboard 40 mm rapidfire cannon. Jak centered the crosshairs mounted on the end of the stubby barrel on the tank chasing them, flipped the safety with his thumb and pulled the primary trigger. A stuttering line of bright streaks reached out from his weapon and the 40 mm high-explosive shells peppered the enemy nonstop. Lumps of mud were blown away, exposing the gleaming alloy hull underneath.
"Twenty-one!" Mildred shouted.
Ryan grunted with pain as he forced Leviathan to the right, then slowed in a sharply banking curve.
Arcing to the left, he charged forward once more, his face white and sweaty.
"What is it?" Krysty asked, concerned.
"Nothing. I'm okay," he said, his trembling left band clutching his right biceps. The cramp was getting worse, almost unbearable, but Ryan said nothing.
However, Krysty knew he was lying. Leviathan weighed many tons, and with no power steering the physical strain of combat-driving the colossus was taking its toll on the man. Indomitable warrior that he was, Ryan was clearly becoming exhausted. Decision made, Krysty released her seat belt, but then paused. The bulky radar console stood prominently between them, piles of spent shells from the 40 mm weapon rolling about loose on the floor, and Ryan himself was strapped tight in his seat and jammed behind the wheel. There was no way for her to replace the man without stopping the vehicle and letting him climb out.
Muttering a prayer to the Earth goddess, Krysty reached out a hand and touched the bare skin on his neck. Ryan jerked at the contact. He could hear her humming something soft and soothing. Almost instantly he felt better, more alert, even stronger. The terrible cramp in his arm disappeared as if it had never existed. Releasing him, Krysty dropped into her seat, seemingly exhausted.