"Arcady And Boris Strugatsky. Prisoners of Power" - читать интересную книгу автора Memo screamed and went limp. His head wobbled, his arms dangled, and
his feet kept jabbing Maxim in the back. Gasping loudly and holding tightly onto Maxim's belt, the General followed close on his heels. They ran into the woods. Wet branches lashed their faces. Dodging the trees rushing toward him and leaping over the stumps springing up from the ground was much tougher than Maxim had expected. He realized he was in rotten shape. And the air here was foul. And everything seemed all wrong. The whole mess seemed so unnecessary and senseless. In their wake lay a bloodstained trail of broken branches. He was sure that by this time the road had been cordoned off, that the bloodhounds were straining at their leashes, and that Captain Chachu, pistol in hand and barking orders, was running pigeon-toed along the road. Chachu would be the first to plunge into the woods. Behind them lay that idiotic tower, toppled. And incinerated legionnaires. And three dead comrades. With him now were two wounded men, half dead, with scarcely a chance of escaping alive. All for the sake of a tower, an idiotic, senseless, dirty, rusty tower. One of thousands like it. "I'll never let myself get involved in anything so stupid again. I'll tell them no. All that blood for a pile of useless rusty steel; a young, foolish life sacrificed for rusty steel, and an old foolish life for the hope of living like a normal human being for a few days, and a love ended by bullets. Listen, I'll say to them, you people keep talking about wanting to survive. If that's what you want, then why die, and die so cheaply? Massaraksh! Well, I won't let them die. I'm going to make sure they live; I'm going to teach them how to live! What a blockhead I am! How could I have done such a thing? How could I have let them do it?" leaped onto a road and looked around. Shorty was running toward him, wet and frightened. "Is that all?" He was horrified, and Maxim was thankful for his reaction. They dragged the wounded to the motorcycle and stuffed Memo into the sidecar. Then Maxim set the General on the rear seat and fastened him to Shorty with a belt. It was quiet in the forest, but Maxim wasn't taken in by the stillness. "Get going," he said. "Don't stop. Break through." "I know," replied Shorty. "What about you?" "I'll try to divert them to me. Don't worry. I'll get away." "It's hopeless," said Shorty sadly. He pushed the starter and the motorcycle roared. "Did you blow up the tower?" "Yes," replied Maxim. Shorty sped away. Alone now. Maxim stood immobile for several seconds and then dashed back into the woods. At the first clearing he tore off his jacket and flung it into the bushes. He returned to the road on the double, and ran as fast as he could toward the city. Then, halting, he unhooked the grenades from his belt, scattered them on the road, forced his way through the brush on the other side, trying to break as many branches as possible, and threw his handkerchief behind the bushes. Only then did he continue through the forest, trying to maintain a steady pace for another ten or fifteen miles. As he ran he concentrated on holding his course to the south-west and |
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