"Richard Harding - Outrider 02 - Fire And Ice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harding Richard)

go," he said, twisting free. "Hey Bonner, I'm fucking talking to you." Bonner
looked wearily at Comer. "Let it ride, man." Men had stopped drinking and
were watching now. A confused plan was beginning to form in Comer's mind. If
he killed Bonner, if he killed the best, then the rest of them would have to
respect him.... It never occurred to him that there was a reason why Bonner
was the best.... The raw alcohol Dorca sold made him courageous, powerful, and
stupid beyond words. Bonner sighed. "Why don't you sit down. Comer, finish
your drink, and leave me alone?" "Whatsamatta? Scared?" A low ripple of
laughter ran around the room. Bonner? Scared of Comer Comer's cheeks
flushed-red. "You sonofabitch," he screamed, and jumped at Bonner. Bonner
took a step back and Corner landed in a heap at his feet. Bonner placed his
heavily shod foot on the man's neck, pinning him to the floor. "Now," he
said, his teeth clenched, "are you going to behave?" "Outside, Bonner,
outside. I'll take you outside," Comer screamed, and squirmed under Bonner's
boot. "Comer," said Dorca, "if you go outside with Bonner, only Bonner is
coming back in here. You'll get your ass handed to you." "The hell I will,"
spat Comer. "You're a good customer," said Dorca, "and I'd hate to lose you."
He lumbered over to the prone pimp. Clutched in a hairy right paw was the
instrument Dorca used to rule his establishment. It was the leg of an old pool
table, elaborately carved and weighing about half a ton, but Dorca wielded it
like a conductor's baton. He picked Corner up by the scruff of the neck.
Comer wriggled free and whipped a huge Super Comanche.44 Magnum from his belt.
Dorca clubbed the gun out of his hand, then slapped the table leg onto Comer's
jaw. He went out like a snuffed candle, and every man in the room winced at
the sound of his teeth cracking. "Get him out of here," Dorca bellowed at
Comer's men. They dragged their boss out and everybody went back to
drinking. "What a dumb little shit," said Dorca, assuming his customary place
at the end of the bar. In front of him, where other men would have had a
drink, Dorca had a tall widemouthed jar filled with white sugar. He tipped it
to his lips and took a swig. Dorca was a sugar freak and he knew all there was
to know about the canciy of the old days. A few of the candy wrappers from the
past were kept framed behind the bar. Bonner made a point of giving any sweet
thing he found to Dorca, a generosity that always moved Dorca to tears. "You
shoulda killed him," said Starling. Starling was Bonner's right-hand man.
Together they had raided Leather and the Slavestates, dealing death as they
moved through every mile in enemy territory. "Waste of time," said
Bonner. "So what brings you in, Bonner," said Dorca, swigging back his
sugar. "Got tired of reading." "Still hitting them books,
huh?" "Yep." "Doing you any good?" "Nope." Bonner smiled. "Awwwww," said
Starling, "that ain't true. He don't mean that. When we went to New York, he
knew all about it." "Hey Bonner," said Dorca, "you heard that the Slavestates
are right in the middle of a gas drought. Any chance you had anything to do
with that?" He smiled broadly. Every rider on the continent knew that Bonner
had blown up the fuel reserves of the Slavestates. "Hell," said Bonner, "I
never went near the place. Blame that man there. Starling and his pal
Harvey." "Hows about we just blame Harvey?" laughed Starling. Harvey had not
made it back from the mission. His scrawny body had been consumed in the huge
fire he had set himself. "Poor Harvey," said Dorca. "Yeah, but he went out
happy," said Starling. "Seriously," said Dorca, "you hurt Leather bad. Riders
coming in from the east say he's got patrols everywhere looking for gas. With