"David Robbins - Blade 05 - Pirate Strike" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robbins David L)

and he thought of the stories he had heard about life prior to World War
Three. There had been a unified Canadian government back then, and the
citizens of the Canadian provinces had lived in peace and enjoyed a
general prosperity.

How different everything was.

One hundred and five years could change a lot.

The mass panic during the war, the hysteria generated by the spread of
the wind-borne radioactive fallout, the food riots in the cities and towns,
and the rapid spread of anarchy had all contributed to the governmental
collapse and been responsible for reducing Canada to the status of a
frontier culture. Now genetic deviates, mutations spawned by the nuclear
and chemical warfare toxins unleashed on the environment, were
commonplace. Outlaw bands roamed the countryside. Pirates were
reportedly operating all along the West Coast. Many of the larger
metropolises were ravaged wastelands where savage gangs fought for
control and brutally murdered anyone who strayed onto their turf.

All in all, George was grateful to be living deep in the woods, far from
any major city, where he could provide for his family's needs by hunting,
fishing, and trapping, and where there were fewer raiders than in the
more populated areas. The nearest community of any size was Harrison
Hot Springs, situated on the southern shore of Harrison Lake,
approximately five miles to the northwest of the Roe lodge. There were
also a dozen hardy families, mainly farmers, dwelling in Agassiz to the
west,
 George halted and studied his back trail, smiling triumphantly when
Red Hawk failed to materialize. Chuckling to himself, he resumed his trek.
After 200 yards he came to a wide field; and as he was about to step from
cover he detected movement on the far side and froze. His brown eyes
narrowed, and he was able to distinguish a huge form blending into the
forest beyond.

A bear perhaps?

He hefted the 30-30 and forged on. Bears were more of a nuisance than
a serious threat. The grizzlies were unpredictable, although they generally
left human beings alone, and black bears invariably fled on sight. He
doubted the bear would attack, and even if it did he could kill it easily
with his Winchester. Still, his nerves were on edge as he tramped through
the knee-high grass. Two-thirds of the way across he stopped and lifted his
head, sniffing loudly.

What was that awful stench?

Puzzled, he attempted to identify the rank odor, which reminded him of
the scent of rotten meat but was not quite the same. He shook his head
and hurried to the trees, and there the stench was even stronger, almost