"Raymond Z. Gallun - Bioblast" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gallun Raymond Z) Bioblast
By Raymond Z. Gallun Bioblast Table of Contents CHAPTER 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23 EPILOGUE CHAPTER 1 The night patrolman at the rural shopping plaza heard the crash and tinkle as a front window of the supermarket was smashed with a large rock. It was as bluntly direct an act as that of a foraging bear. Moments later, the cop peered into the store's interior, which, for security after closing time, was left partly illuminated. Unbelieving and scandalized, he saw somebody devouring raw steaks in the meat department. By then, monitoring devices would have set off signals at the nearest police headquarters, and have shifted viewing screens there to the site of the disturbance. But on his own, the tough and disgusted patrolman followed the intruder through the break, and hurried aggressively forward toward making a quick arrest. However, the scarecrow figure, with a steak still gripped in its jaws, doubled back and, with erratic, "Hey, you!" the big cop roared. The fugitive rocketed at a gimping lope across the empty parking lot, and disappeared among the dark trees. "Holy Mary, what next?" the frustrated officer muttered, blowing air up past his nose... Motorcycle buffs aren't generally mean, of course; but Hep Arbow and Cheek Bossiter had latent sadistic tendencies, at present enhanced by a few drinks. They were remotely aware of a radio alert about a peculiar store burglary near a neighboring town a few nights before, and had had some rough laughs over it, yet they weren't thinking about this now. Before they quite reached the pedestrian, he shied to one side against the gravelly slope, where, for a considerable stretch, the road cut through a hill mass. Thus his easy escape was blocked. Hep braked, and Cheek followed suit. "Hey, Cheek," Hep wondered softly. "What dumb hitchhiker would be trying to ride his thumb on an almost empty road after dark? They're resurfacing. Couldn't he read the 'restricted traffic' signs?" "Maybe no hitchhiker," Cheek answered. "Maybe some crocked-up local-yokel tottering home. Maybe lots of things." |
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