"David L. Robbins - Endworld 02 - Thief River Falls Run" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robbins David L)

The wind increased, the natural elements working in his favor. The
breeze was blowing the sounds he made toward the Home, and away from
whoever was lurking in the forest at the end of the field.

A sudden thought brought Hickok up short. What if it were Trolls?
Many had escaped, and they'd want revenge on the Family. Involuntarily,
he gripped his revolvers, his cherished Colt Pythons.

Someone coughed again.

May the Spirit smile on me, Hickok prayed. He lowered his body,
running in a half-crouch, moving cautiously now, a grim smile on his face.
Whoever was out there was due west, a bit to his right. Please let it be
Trolls! He owed them. He owed them real bad.

Hickok slowed as he neared the trees, listening, his senses primed. The
leaves were rustling in the wind, some of the branches creaking and
rubbing against one another. Good. Perfect cover. He tensed, expecting a
shot, and darted into the woods, stopping behind the first large tree he
reached. Surely they had seen him coming. He leaned against the trunk,
waiting.

Nothing.

What was going on here?

The coughing abruptly started up, a veritable spasm, a series of
wheezing gasps and choking groans.

Sounds like the dude is sick, Hickok reasoned. He estimated the
distance at fifteen to twenty yards. The brush was thick, providing ample
concealment. He lowered his body to the earth and began crawling.

A twig snapped behind him.

Hickok froze. Blast his stupidity! He should have expected there would
be more than one. Had they seen him?

"Did you get a fix on that?" a gruff voice whispered.

Hickok twisted, craning his neck, confident he was hidden in the tall
grass.

There were three of them. Big men. Armed with rifles. Two to his left,
one to his right, the nearest ten yards away.

"I know I heard it," a second man replied in a hushed voice.
 Were they talking about him? Hickok wondered.

The coughing started up again.