"Sean Williams - Metak Fatigue" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Sean)

they were telling the truth,
11 as their games. as we R-@ M "I know," she said, returning the smile and
adding a
suggestive leer. "At least, that's what I've heard."
"So believe it." @"As long as you tell me the full story one day." "Maybe." He
returned his attention to the road . "But not right now, okay?"
She took the hint. Roads directed the car along a cross-route between G and F
rings. The headlights seemed to disappear into the gloom, sucked away from
them by the night and returning only in brief reflections off broken glass.
Whole blocks had been left to the elements, abandoned for more convenient
locations closer to the Rosette. Decaying facades gaped back at her like
mocking skulls, blank and impersonal yet eerily animated all the same. If
22
buildings could look wild, untamed, then these did, as though the dead blocks
resented the intruder that had so rudely disturbed their brooding, uneasy
rest.
Then, as they neared the address Morrow had given them, Roads flicked off the
headlights. "What-?" she began. "No need to let the Mole know we're coming,"
Roads said, his voice soft. "If he's still around. @
Barney put one hand on the dash. Privately she doubted that the Mole would be
anywhere near the address,N40rrow had given them: not because Morrow had lied,
but because the Mole had an uncanny knack of slipping away well before anyone
came close. That wouldn't stop her from trying, of course - but the
possibility of crashing into something in the dark concerned her more. The
road ahead was utterly dark. "Jesus, Phil -"
"It's okay. I can see fine.
The car swerved to the left, and she clutched the dash hard. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Dark buildings loomed on her side of the car, and she flinched instinctively
away, Roads had been RSD's champion marksman for more years than she could
recall, but that didn't make her feel any safer. 'Suddenly Roads spun the
wheel and brought the car to a sudden halt.
Barney jerked back into her seat. "Now what?" He pointed past her, through the
window on her side of the car. "We're here: 114 Old North Street." "How can
you tell? " "Would you believe I'm psychic?" He opened his door and stepped
out of the car. "Sure." She unclipped the holster of her pistol, grabbed a
torch, and did likewise. "And I'm General Stedman."
24
ased to meet you." Roads indicated the low, iron that separated the tangled
yard from the vement. Barnevs
eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Now she looked, she could see a corroded
brass plate on fence with the building's number.
ea. Not psychic, then. She cursed him under her br th
Stupid and resolving to be more observant in future.
One hundred and fourteen was large, forbidding, and seemed to have been carved
from a solid himp of stone
5. 4:' two storeys high. The ground-floor windows were "=41 boarded shut, like
the warehouses of the harbour; its
facade %vas similarly weathered. Someone had painted "RUSA OUT!" across one
wall. An open gate leading to a short flight of steps granted access to the