"Scott G. Gier - Genellan 02 - In the Shadow of the Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gier Scott G)

Tremendous screeches and the crashing of branches echoed among the
trees. What could only be a war of dragons struggling over fallen kill
reverberated in the wet woods. The lurking presence roared magnificently,
its fetid breath burning the fog. It exploded into motion, bounding down the
hill, resolutely into battle, mists swirling in its wake.

Tatum, hand shaking, lowered his pistol. The forest resounded in
cataclysm, the air vibrating with violence. The fog overhead seemed riven
with turbulence, suddenly lightening with encroaching sun. The two
humans were still high on the ridge and had a long way to go. The floor of
the valley would be deep in fog.

"This way," Tatum whispered, moving rapidly from the path. Where were
the nightmares?

The ground-thudding dragon battle ended quickly, with a male yodeling
victory. The roaring diminished as rapidly as it had started. Instead, ripping,
rending noises, liquid and visceral, penetrated the gloom.

In the distance there were other noises, answering Tatum's fears. In the
wet depths of the forest a pack of nightmares bayed an unholy overture.



The squad moved through the woods, impassive fog slowing the pace.
The sergeant jogged up on the point and moved ahead.

"I got it," he rasped, floppy cap dripping with condensation. The squad
leader was a big man, not tall but massive. With two years on the planet, he
was proud of his ability to cover ground.

"Okay, Sarge," the point man replied, falling back. The squad, twelve
men strong, well trained and alert, confidently adjusted positions down the
line. Just another walk in the woods.

And then came the screamsтАФbestial roars, distant, faint, muted by the
mists but unremittingly horrible and threatening. The squad leader's neck
went cold, and his pace slowed involuntarily. The screams died. Moisture
dripping from the leaves was dismayingly audible.

"What the hell was that?" the number two man asked.

"Can it!" the squad leader barked, racking his brain. His experience had
nothing to offer. One thing was clear: Tatum and O'Toole were up there.
Fellow marines and buddies, and that was enough. "Let's move," he
shouted, forcing himself to jog into the cottony soup.

A half kilometer later the ground began to tremble.

"Heads up!" the squad leader shouted, standing in the trail. "Take cover.