"Jacquelyn Hooper - Home On The Range" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hooper Jacquelyn)

A squeal erupted in Chris's ear, followed by the shouts of Paladin outside of
the headpiece. Chris ran to his aid, aware all the while that the smaller native
could come up behind him and finish him off. He used his peripheral vision to
check it. It had not moved.

The native with one wing had Paladin pinned. Paladin held its wrists, to keep it
from tearing out his eyes. It had already gouged his face, and slashed the side
of his neck.

Chris grabbed it from behind. Blood and feathers smeared his face and clothes as
he pulled the creature from Paladin. It beat its one wing, knocking Chris in the
head. Chris felt his grasp on the creature loosen.

"Run!" it said. "I will protect you."

Chris's mind raced. The thing had chirped. But he understood it now.

"Come on," Paladin said. His hat had been knocked off his head. Black and gray
hair flew wild as the wind picked up. He wobbled as he rose on his knees, then
motioned at the native. "finish me off!"

The native glanced back at Chris. The look it gave him was almost tender and
absolving in its intensity. "Go. You are free."

It turned back to Paladin, just as Paladin, now standing, removed a knife from
his belt. The native did not have a chance. Chris saw it stiffen when the blade
pierced its chest. All Chris could see of it after it fell into the grain was
the tip of its remaining wing.

"I'll call it in," Paladin said. He bent down, picked up his hat, and put it on.
"Get the other one."

"But..." Chris saw Paladin stalk through the grain, toward the top of the rise
where their gear was stowed.

He was alone. for the first time, Paladin had left him alone with their prey.

Chris turned toward the small native. It was being scooped from the field by a
pair of the others that had been hovering above them moments before. They were
moving slowly across the horizon, heading toward the river that was the border
between the New river Territory and the Aurora Borealis Territory.

An easy shot. So blessedly simple.

But the rifle jammed when he aimed and prepared to fire. And as he fixed the
problem, the natives were out of range, white specks on the horizon that dipped
below the tree line, returning the sky to virgin blue.

Numbness washed over Chris like a salve. But he could feel, in his mind, a storm
of confusion growing. Something ravenous, an instinct that had threatened to