"J. Robert King - Invasion Cycle 02 - Planeshift" - читать интересную книгу автора (King Robert J)

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 J. Robert King

chop away the lines before Phyrexians could climb them.
He knocked aside Benalish warriors who blocked the
forecastle stairs and stabbed a climbing Phyrexian in its
fangy mouth. It fell back atop its comrades, but two more
monsters rose in its place.
There were too many. They were too quick. Claws
fastened around the stanchions and seized the rail.
Gerrard hacked viciously at the beasts. His sword clove
the horned shoulder of a Phyrexian trooper. He skewered
the scabrous mouth of a bloodstock. He split the skull
shield of a scuta.
"How about a little help!" he shouted over his shoulder.
Red energy burst into being before him. Sudden flames
mantled hackles and poured down throats. Plasma
shattered thoraxes and flashed flesh to ash. Where once
there had been hundreds of Phyrexians, now there was only
fire. Bones and armor dropped in a grisly hail.
Gerrard reeled back from the rail and blinked the red
spots from his eyes. His sword had melted beyond the hilt.
Tossing the thing overboard, he glared to the forecastle
deck and the smoking gun.
Behind the starboard ray cannon, a familiar minotaur
hunched in the gunnery traces.
Tahngarth shrugged. "You needed a hand."
Gerrard flashed him a smile and climbed toward the
port-side gun.
As he went, the ship's engines suddenly surged. The
deck pitched. Weatherlight lurched from the ground. Most
of the warriors went to their knees on the planks, but
Gerrard kept his feet. He'd ridden this ship to Rath and
back, and he had his sky legs.
On his way up the forecastle stairs, he decked a
Phyrexian in the jaw. The bone shattered, and dagger teeth
drove into the beast's pallet. Its eyes went dark, and it


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 Planeshift

slumped on the rail. Gerrard shoved it off and crossed to
his gun. He charged up the cannon even as he strapped
himself into the gunnery harness.
"Grab a gun or get below," he shouted to the Benalish
irregulars still crowding the deck.
Gerrard spit on the plasma manifold. The saliva boiled
away instantly. With a grim smile, he pivoted the gun
about to shoot along the hull. Rays struck the air and