"S. M. Stirling - Draka 05 - Drakas!" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stirling S. M)

Trooper Evans was a dark, husky, taciturn Welshman with a record of disciplinary infractions, mostly
involving drunkenness; he had soldiered well on this patrol, though, doing his share and never
complaining. About midday, as they crossed an open sandy space, he suddenly stopped, turned half
around, said, "Christ," and fell unconscious to the ground, his face very pale.

"Heat stroke," Pace said, feeling Evans's wrists and forehead. "Seen it on cattle drives."

"What do we do?" Garvin asked.

"Not a damn thing we can do," Pace said, straightening up. "Pour water on him, only we got no water.
Get him in the shade, only there ain't no shade anywhere close. He's a goner."

They loosened Evans's clothing, fanned his face a little with his hat; it made no difference. In less than an
hour he was dead.

"We'll have to bury him here," Custer said. "Find rocksтАФ"

"Naw," Pace said flatly. "I ain't toting no more rocks. It's too hot and we got too far to go."

Garvin nodded, folding his arms. Custer said, "I'm giving you men a direct order," and knew immediately
he'd made a mistake.

Pace snorted. "You don't pull no more rank on us, bluebelly." His hand dropped to the butt of his
revolver. "You want to try us?"

Garvin unslung his rifle from his back. "Yeah," he agreed. "Come ahead. Show us what a big hero you
are."

Pace peeled back sun-split lips in a grin. "Like you showed them Injuns, huh? Shit," he said. "You ain't
gonna do nothing. Just like that bluebelly captain back home, wanted to take me in and hang me for
shooting one of his uppity black nigger soldiers. He didn't have the guts and neither do you. Come on,
Roy."

Contemptuously, ostentatiously, Pace turned his back and began walking away, followed after a moment
by Garvin. Neither man looked back; and after a moment, stumbling and staggering, Custer followed
them.

***

They came to the baobab just as the sun was going down. "Good a place as any," Pace said. "Let's get a
fire going."

"What for?" Garvin asked. "It ain't cold and we sure-God got nothing to cook."

"Yeah, but it'll keep the hyenas away." Pace picked up a fallen branch and broke it over his knee. He
had to make three tries; they were all very weak by now. " 'Course they're gonna get us anyway, but I
don't want 'em eating on me till I'm dead."

Custer sat on the ground, leaning against the baobab, hearing the voices but paying no attention. It didn't
matter now, after all. There was no longer any hope of making it to the next waterhole. Pace was right: