"David L. Robbins - Endworld 01 - The Fox Run" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robbins David L)

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The Fox Run
by
David L. Robbins
Chapter One
The blasted dog pack still had his scent!
Blade paused, angry, his gray eyes smoldering, his head cocked to one
side, listening intently. How long had they been after him now? Sweat
soaked his thick, curly hair and caked his green canvas pants and tattered
fatigue shirt to his muscular body. At least a dozen were on his trail, their
eager baying filling the morning air. They were close, too close, and
narrowing the gap rapidly.
Just what he needed!
Blade ran, balancing the deer carcass on his broad right shoulder,
hefting his bow in his left hand. The quiver of arrows on his back and the
Bowie knife on each hip bounced as he moved. He'd never make it to the
Home with the extra weight, and after the three days of tracking it took
him to bag the buck, three days with little sleep and less food, he wasn't
about to abandon the meat to the dogs.
No way!
Blade knew he was only two miles from the Home, two miles from
shelter and comfort, two miles from help. But the others had no idea when
he would return, they didn't know which direction he would be coming
from, and they wouldn't be this far from the Home under normal
circumstances anyway. In short, he couldn't rely on any aid from his
friends.
 He was up the creek without a paddle. Blade smiled grimly. Who was he
kidding? He was up the creek without a canoe.
The howling was louder, closer. The fleetest of the pack had the fresh
scent of blood in their nostrils, and the aroma goaded them to increased
speed.
Blade ran over the crest of a small hill and paused. A natural clearing
was forty yards away, half the distance down the hill. It would be his best
bet. He would be able to see them coming. Even better, they wouldn't be
able to sneak up on him and nip his hamstrings when his back was
turned.
The first dog must have spotted him because a tremendous howl split
the dawn.
Blade hurried, running for all he was worth, the buck slowing him down,
though, impeding his progress, and he knew he was in trouble, knew he
wouldn't quite make the clearing, even before, he heard the patter of
rushing pads on the hard ground and then the ominous, throaty growl
from a canine pursuer. He tried to whirl, but he was too late, his