"Dafydd ab Hugh, Brad Linaweawer DOOM: Infernal Sky (english)" - читать интересную книгу автора

It wasn't until we went into the biology research
department that the old marine training kicked in.
Something just didn't feel right. Maybe it was not
seeing more people than we did. But when I noticed
the female lab technician from behind, I knew some-
thing was wrong. Her long black tresses were a tat-
tered mass stained with splotches of green. She had a
great figure, and something told me she'd never let her
hair go like that. Her lab coat was wrinkled and
disgustingly dirty, though I knew the admiral ran a
tight ship and wouldn't abide slovenliness.
Arlene picked up the pace and started hoofing it
over to the technician. As the woman started to turn, I
couldn't believe that Arlene wouldn't notice the
messy hair and the dirty lab coat. My best buddy
wasn't just a great warrior; she was female.
No sooner did I shout, "Arlene, look out," than I
realized I didn't need to worry about her. She went
into a roll that made her a less promising target than I
was. Marine, protect your own ass!
Turning sideways, I flattened myself against the
wall before the female zombie got off her first shot.
Arlene made certain she didn't get another. Zombie
reflexes suck. Even a woman in good physical condi-
tion would have had trouble stopping Arlene coming
up from the floor, right arm straight up like the Statue
of Liberty, and knocking the gun from the cold
leathery hand that was yet to get off a second shot.
The next few seconds proved to be the corollary to
"Practice Makes Perfect." We'd both become a little
rusty. There was no other explanation for Zombie
Girl getting away before Arlene could slam her hard
against the convenient back wallЧproviding plenty
of time for one of us to retrieve the gun from the floor
and pump lead into the leathery blue-gray face of our
walking beauty.
This zombie lass moved very quickly, thoughЧ
faster than any zombie I'd ever seen. She also shouted
something very strange about having to get to court.
Then she darted through a door to my left before
Arlene could reach her from the rear or I could
approach her from the front.
"Those morons!" Arlene screamed. "What kind of
security do they call this?"
I was pissed too, but I had more sympathy for a
genuine blunder than Arlene did. Watching that bas-
tard Weems order the murder of the monks in Kefiri-
stan had softened me toward mere incompetence.
The science boys had to study everything they could
get their hands on. I didn't expect there wouldn't be