"David L. Robbins - Endworld 17 - Atlanta Run" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robbins David L)

Their damn, infallible Heat Vision!

She winced as her left foot sank in a rut and she twisted her ankle, and
she nearly toppled forward. With a grunt, she righted herself and raced to
the west. Her left ankle was throbbing, but she ignored the discomfort,
endeavoring to maintain a clear head, to formulate a plan for eluding the
Terminators, undaunted by a sobering realization: No one ever eluded the
Terminators.

A raindrop spattered her face.

The mother paused, elation washing over her. There was a chance, after
all! Not much of one, true, but one nonetheless. If only the rain would
increase!

More rain descended, the drops heavy and cold, smacking the turf and
the vegetation in an irregular rhythm.

She continued deeper into the woods, frantically seeking a hiding place,
scrutinizing the inky vegetation, availing herself of the periodic lightning
flashes to note landmarks, to get her bearings. During one such flash a
huge tree materialized 20 yards ahead, its overhanging limbs forming a
spreading canopy. The tree was perched halfway up a partially eroded
knoll. Several enormous roots were exposed, two of which crisscrossed one
another after looping outward and upward, then disappeared in the dank
earth.

The rain became a steady drizzle, ever building.

The mother dashed toward the tree, squinting as the raindrops pelted
her face, her eyes. She reached the base of the knoll and hurriedly
inspected the root system, and grinned at the discovery of a two-foot space
between the crisscrossed roots and the slope.

"Mommy," Chastity said softly.

"Quiet," the mother chided. She squatted and slid behind the roots, her
back to the knoll, her blue jumpsuit clammy on her skin.

"What will the Bubbleheads do?" Chastity asked.

"Be quiet!" the woman repeated.

With a rush of wind and an abrupt deluge of rain, the summer storm
attained its peak of primal fury. The nearby trees bowed their crowns to
Nature's majesty, and the driving sheets of precipitation obscured the
landscape.

The mother was overjoyed, knowing the storm would hamper the
Terminators. If the tempest persisted long enough, the Terminator Squad