"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 11 - Dimension of Dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

But the rising wind was whipping at Blade's body and making him shiver, tough as he was. He started
down the slope. This time he was alert not only for possible enemies and weapons, but for another road
that might lead him to the city and save him an exhausting scramble across country.
He reached the bottom of the hill and scrambled over a pile of stones several feet high, which had no
doubt once been a much higher wall. Now it was only a tumbled mass, overgrown with weeds, moss,
and thistles. Again the spines pricked and jabbed at Blade, and insecurely settled stones shifted under his
feet, throwing him sprawling several times. He was still more scarred, grazed, bruised, dusty, and
bad-tempered by the time he pushed his way through a line of bushes on to another long-unused road.
As he felt moss-slick stones beneath his feet, the moon vanished behind another wall of cloud. But he
knew that another left turn would take him toward the city, if not straight to it. He turned and strode along
the road, pushing himself faster and faster as his eyes once again became adjusted to the darkness along
the road. The chill wind made him hurry simply to keep warm.
For about two miles the road ran between a double row of the same huge trees he had seen on the
estate. It curved gently to the left as it did so, and about halfway along, it became noticeably wider. At
that point two side roads ran into it, and Blade thought he saw the dim bulks of other unlighted mansions
sprawling across hilltops at the ends of both roads. Unlighted. Were they also untenanted, like the first
one? Had they also been abandoned for years or even generations to the weather and the vegetation? It
was a bad sign if they were. He must be within a mile of the river, practically in the suburbs of the city.
What kind of people would let land within easy walking distance of their city slip untidily back into
wilderness? A people who shut themselves in might make for an unpleasant encounter.
He toyed with the idea of turning aside into one of the mansions. If he found it deserted, he could
spend the night there and approach the city in the morning. People anywhere were less likely to have a
shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later policy in broad daylight. But as he toyed with the idea, the road made
a sharp bend, and he found himself turning onto a section that ran straight and level and nearly a hundred
feet wide toward the river and the city.
It was as overgrown as all the previous stretches of road he had followed, and the bushes and grass
on either side were wild and rank. Blade's heart sank. For the first time a gnawing suspicion about the
city and its people crept into his mind. In a fleeting moment of moonlight he saw something gleaming amid
the tangled thistles and rotting leaves that covered the roadway some fifty feet ahead. He ran forward and
bent to look at it.
A human skeleton lay in the weeds, almost bare of flesh but still clothed in a kiltlike garment of green
cloth and plastic sandals. Although faded and stained by weather and mold, the garments showed no
signs of decay. Blade tried to rip off a sample of the kilt, but found it like trying to tear heavy canvas.
He looked down at the corpse again, then down the road toward the river and the city. He could see
the towers looming in the darkness, even without the help of the moon. How long had the body been
here? The clothing was undecayed; was it just incredibly tough, or had the body come here only
recently? And if so, how? Blade wished once again that he had a weapon of some sort. Then it occurred
to him that if his growing suspicions were correct, he probably would not need one. But it was with a
slower and more cautious step that he moved forward into the darkness, looking about in all directions
and also down at the road, searching for more skeletons. He was so intent on being alert against possible
dangers that he was at the near end of the bridge that crossed the river almost before he realized it. He
stopped and looked up across the river and toward the city.
As he did so, the moon once again came to his rescue. A ragged hole opened in the overcast and
silver light flowed down, again breaking the darkness. Blade took a good look at the city in the moonlight
and heaved a sigh of relief. His suspicions had been correct.
There would be no danger to fear from the inhabitants of the city. It had none. The cold light of the
moon was pouring down on a city as lifeless and abandoned as the mansion on the hill.


Chapter Four