"John E. Stith - Manhattan Transfer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stith John E) "I don't have any idea at all. Maybe a bridge above us
collapsed. I hope we'll find out when we get above ground." He hoped the prospect of finding out more when they got moving would appeal to them, but he didn't give the bridge theory any real credence. This was something worse. How much worse, he had no idea. "Take off your coat so we can use it as a litter," Matt said quickly to the taller man, who wore a raincoat. The man didn't respond. "Come on." Matt grabbed the man's arm. The man took the coat off as though in a trance. Matt laid out the coat next to the injured man. "Come on," he said as he knelt beside the man. "Help me move him." Like obedient automatons the three each gripped a shoulder or a leg and helped shift the injured man onto the coat. Matt took the edge of the coat next to the man's damaged arm so he could make sure nothing bumped against it. Together the four of them lifted the man to waist height and started up the tunnel. "If anyone gets tired, say so before you lose your grip. We're taking a big enough risk already." As they reached the severed car, Matt stopped to retrieve his bag, and he found some passengers were still inside the car. "Something is blocking the tunnel back there. Everyone who can walk had better get started. No help is going to be here anytime Anyone who's in good enough shape to run should do it and call nine-one-one. And stay away from the extra rail. Move fast, but stay calm." Someone in the dark said, "My buddy says you can call for help from phones on the tunnel walls." "If you see one, try it. Otherwise just keep going. But help anyone who needs it. Who can pass the word to the people in the lead car?" As soon as he heard a voice say, "I can," he and the others moved forward with the victim. Seconds later Matt realized that a blinking minivid "active" light was tracking them as they walked. Whoever it was even had a pinhead lamp shedding dim light on the tunnel walls. Irritated that someone was photographing them, he said, "Take your home movies somewhere else, why don't you? We need to get out of here." A feminine voice sounded from behind the light. "This is for WNBC. What's your name, please?" The voice seemed familiar. As a man with a lighter moved closer to the person with the minivid, Matt saw that it was the black-haired woman whose shoulder had bumped against his chest since the last stop. Matt made no reply. They maneuvered past the walkway beside the severed car and past the lead car. Matt made sure no one was left aboard as they passed. Flickering light illuminated a scattering of possessions left behind. A headphone lay near a dark spill of blood on a |
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