"Nephilim - 03 - The Revealing" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marzulli L A)

"He left his holy orders. There was something in his past that haunted him. I believe Cardinal Fiorre knew, but His Eminence never confided in me."
"It appears that they worked closely together," Johanen said.
"His Eminence confided that they were very close ... but the man fell away."
Johanen fitted the cross into the indentation that it had left in the plaster. "Someone other than Cardinal Fiorre is responsible for this."
Johanen saw Thomas look at him questioningly.
"I cannot imagine Cardinal Fiorre throwing the object that he venerated for any reason."
"So you suspect ... someone else was responsible?" Thomas asked.
"Yes, I do."
"But who?"
Johanen handed the cross back to Thomas. "Those who want to make sure that Cardinal Fiorre's work never reached His Holiness."



7




Nora sat around a small campfire in front of Jerry's card-board house, four stories below the streets of New York City. Around her, a half a dozen people of diverse ethnicity and age warmed themselves. Nora eyed the two track rabbits that were slowly cooking on a spit over the fire. They were in fact two rats that were a little smaller than rabbits, and were considered a staple by those who dwelled in the subterranean world known as the Condos.
The Condos was a natural cavern, separated from the underground subway tracks by a large outcropping of rocks that dimmed the frequent roar of passing subway trains. Over one hundred homeless men and women lived here, in a loosely knit commune. Someone had diverted an electrical wire and rigged it to light lamps that illuminated the interiors of a smattering of cardboard huts, making them look like misshapen Japanese lanterns. Water came from several pipes that leaked overhead and was collected in cans and buckets.
Nora kept her eye on Jerry, as he was busy opening several cans that they had stolen from the grocery store. He had already traded several cans for some speed, and the drug had put him in good spirits again.
"You shoulda seen her." Jerry nodded toward Nora. "Like a real pro." He lifted his can opener and used it as a prop for Nora's lock picks. "She just opened that lock like it was nothing." He snapped his finger.
"Tell them how you almost got shot," Nora reminded him. "Ain't safe up there no more," Laverne, a middle-aged woman and a junkie, groaned.
"That's right . . . It's not safe anymore," added an old white man with a battered face.
"I don't know how you manage to do it," said a man who looked like he could have been a banker. "It's been over a year since I went out."
Some of the others nodded their agreement.
"Aw, it's nothing," Jerry said, as he pried the lid back. Grabbing it with a pair of fire-blackened pliers, he placed the can on the fire. "They don't scare me. Besides, most people don't want to mess with us mole people." This nickname came from the subway workers and police, and the tunnel dwellers used it as well.
The can settled down on the coals and the group watched as the flames licked its sides, burning off the label.
Five minutes later Nora said, "Don't overcook it, Jerry."
Jerry ignored her and, taking a fork, poked the track rabbit to see if it was done. "It's soup," Jerry called, announcing that the "rabbit" was finished.
The mole people produced cups and plates seemingly from nowhere.
Jerry pulled out the metal spit that had skewered the rats over the fire. He motioned to Nora and she held out her plate, which had a faded picture of Barney on it. Jerry dropped two very thin slices of the meat, along with several hot yams from the tin, onto it.
Nora took the food and then hurried away from the fire to Jerry's cardboard house.
"Nora?You okay?" Jerry called out.
The banker whispered as he held out his plate, "Her lights are going off again."
"She ain't takin' her pills, that's all," Jerry replied, scooping yams out onto the banker's plate.
"What you gonna do with her?" the old man with the battered face asked, as he spooned a mouthful of rabbit into an almost toothless mouth.
Jerry shrugged and took the first bite of his dinner. He was Nora's protector. As long as Nora took the pills she did okay. Where the pills came from remained a mystery that he still wasn't able to figure out. All he knew was that she always had a supply. He had read the label, hoping that they were drugs he could maybe use. The label had a long name that he couldn't pronounce, so he left the pills alone.
He had first noticed her picking the locked door of a bakery. He had watched with admiration as, moments later, the door opened, and Nora had entered, returning quickly with an armful of donuts. He had followed her, and when it was night and she had curled up on a bench in the park, it was he who had chased off a would-be rapist. He then took her underground and introduced her to the group at the Condos. At first she was a big hit because of her lock-picking skills. But soon the others noticed that Nora was "a real crazy"
Nora took to living in the tunnels, but she often sneaked away at night, leaving Jerry's cardboard house and going to deeper levels of the tunnels. Other times she would sit in the house and rock back and forth, staring into space, not eating or sleeping. Jerry would spoon-feed her chicken broth and nurse her as best he could. At first, these episodes would last a few days, but they were growing more frequent as time went on. Jerry had learned over the months that when Nora took her pills she was somewhat normal. But when several days elapsed without her taking them, her erratic behavior would return.
Jerry finished his meal and wiped his plate with an old towel.
"I better go an' check on her," he muttered, moving away from the fire toward his cardboard house. He saw that Nora hadn't lit the candle, and he took that as a bad sign. He rapped his knuckles on the flap of cardboard that served as a door and called out, "Nora? It's Jerry. You decent?"
He waited for a moment but there was no answer. So he went in.
"Nora, what are you doin'?" She had taken a razor blade and was sitting in the semidarkness pulling strands of her hair and cutting it close to her scalp.
"C'mon, girl, give me that thing." He grabbed the razor out of her hand. He found a pack of matches and, striking one, lit the candle.
"Why you do that, girl? Trying to make yourself a freak, or what?" He shook his head.
Nora didn't answer. She just stared out into space and played with a length of hair that she hadn't cut yet.
"Nora, what am I gonna do with you?" Jerry grabbed a blanket and put it around her shoulders. "Where are your pills, girl?"
She ignored him, so Jerry looked over at a little stack of bricks where Nora kept her stuff. He found the pills, popped the lid, and offered one of them to Nora. "Come on and take it, girl," he coaxed.
She finally took it out of his hand and put it in her mouth and swallowed.