"Barbara Karmazin - Blackbird 2 - Out of the Dark" - читать интересную книгу автора (Karmazin Barbara)

the broken slabs to Cait's side. She grabbed her hands and tried to pull her out.

Panic seared through her from the child's touch. тАЬNo,тАЭ Cait managed to say. тАЬDon't try to move me. Not
yet. I think my leg is broken.тАЭ
She reached into her pocket. Moving with exquisite care, she removed her computer sofscreen and
passed it to Socorro.

The child unfolded the sofscreen, squeezed the corners to stiffen it then tried to call for help. It didn't
respond.

The elevator doors opened behind them, then started closing again. Socorro jumped to her feet and
lunged for the doors. Cait grabbed the child's pants leg and gritted her teeth against the agony of that
move.Goddess above, she prayed.Give me strength. Taking shallow breaths made the pain easier to
bear.

Tears streaked the dirt and grit on Socorro's face. тАЬWhy'd you stop me?тАЭ She sniffed.

Cait chose her words with care. Frightening Socorro out of her wits wasn't going to solve the problem.
тАЬYou can't use the lift. It might leave you stranded between levels. Use the ped-walk instead. It's safer,
especially if it's stopped moving. Find your daddy, Kevin and Tiny and bring them here to help me.тАЭ

Socorro wiped her tears away with her hand and smeared the dirt on her face even more. тАЬI'll bring
them.тАЭ She picked up the pet carrier. тАЬI promise.тАЭ Then she climbed over the debris and disappeared
into the smoke.

Cait rested her head on the cold concrete and closed her eyes. All she had to do now was wait. An
ominous rumble sounded in the distance.

Chapter Three

A disturbance, a rumble, the echo of a sound shuddered through the blue clay walls. Mider stopped.
The familiar weight of his braided hair slapped against his ankles. Had there been an explosion?

He finished winding the strip of leather around his shirtsleeve and tied it at his wrist. Should he use the
escape pod built into the tunnel walls and flee to the surface?

He went to the oversized four-poster bed that dominated the room, pushed the embroidered canopy
aside and slumped on the edge. Why bother? So what if there'd been an accident on the streets above,
an accident that might flood the tunnels? Did it matter if he died in his sleep or ignominiously like a
drowned rat?

Either way the end result would be the same. His empty life would be over. He would die alone and
unknown the same way he'd lived hidden under the streets of Chicago, in the small section of the
abandoned freight tunnels he called home.

No mother, no father, sisters, and brothers. No grandparents, no children. No family to mourn his
passing. No lovers.

Would he ever have the opportunity to love, to have another eagerly waiting for caresses in his bed? To
lie there, body to body, and feel his lover's heart beating under his hand. Heart to heart, mind to mind,