[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
= 64 =
The early morning sun snuck in low over the Atlantic, kissing the sandy fork of Long Island, gliding over
coves and harbors, villages and resorts, bringing a cool summer sweat to asphalt and pavement. Farther
west, the brilliant arc illuminated the nearest reaches of New York City, briefly turning the gray welter of
buildings a pale shade of rose. Following the ecliptic, the rays hit the East River, then burnished the
windows of ten thousand buildings to a temporary sparkle, as if washing the city new in heat and light.
Beneath the thick tangles of railroad track and overhead wire that crossed the narrow canal known as
theHumboldt Kill, no light penetrated. The tenements that reared up, vacant and gray as vast dead teeth,
were too numerous and too tall. At their feet, the water lay still and thick, its only currents formed by the
rumble of the subway trains passing infre-quently on the rail bridge above.
As the sun followed its inexorable course west, a single beam of light slanted down through the labyrinth
of wood and steel, blood red against the rusted iron, as sudden and sharp as a knife wound. It winked
out again, as quickly as it had arrived, but not before illuminating a strange sight: a figure, muddy and
battered, curled motionless upon a thin revetment of brick that jutted mere inches above the dark water.
Darkness and silence returned, and the foul canal was left to itself once again. Then its sleep was
disturbed a second time: a low rumble sounded in the distance, approached in the dim gray dawn, passed
overhead, receded, then returned. And beneath this rumble followed another: deeper, more immedi-ate.
The surface of the canal began to shake and quiver, as if jostled reluctantly to life.
In the bow of the Coast Guard cutter, D Agostastood, stiff and vigilant as a sentry.
There she is! he cried, pointing to a dark figure lying on the embankment. He turned to the pilot. Get
those choppers the hell away! They re stirring the stink up off the water. Be-sides, we might need to get
a medevac in here.
The pilot glanced up at the craggy, burnt-out facades and the steel bridges overhead, a look of doubt
crossing his face, but he said nothing.
Smithback crowded to the rail, straining to see in the light-ening gloom. What is this place? he asked,
tugging his shirt up over his nose.
HumboldtKill, D Agostareplied curtly. He turned to the pilot. Bring us in closer; let the doctor get a
look at her.
Smithback straightened up and glanced over at D Agosta.He knew the Lieutenant was wearing a brown
suit he always wore brown suits but the color was now completely undetectable beneath a damp
mantle of mud, dust, blood, and oil. The gash above his eye was a ragged red line. Smithback watched
the Lieutenant give his face a savage wipe with his sleeve. God, let her be okay, D Agostamuttered to
himself.
The boat eased up to the revetment, the pilot backing the throttle into neutral. In a flash D Agostaand the
doctor were over the side and onto the revetment, bending low over the prone figure. Pendergast stood
in the shadows aft, silent, an intense look on his pale face.
Margosuddenly jerked awake and blinked around at her surroundings. She tried to sit up, then clapped
a hand to her head with a groan.
Margo! D Agostasaid. It s Lieutenant D Agosta.
Don t move, the doctor said, gently feeling her neck.
Ignoring him,Margo pushed herself into a sitting position. What the hell took you guys? she asked, then
broke into a series of racking coughs.
Anything broken? the doctor asked.
Everything, she replied, wincing. Actually, my left leg, I think.
The doctor moved his attentions to her leg, slicing off her muddy jeans with an expert hand. He quickly
examined the rest of her body, then said something to D Agosta.
She s okay! D Agosta called up. Have the medevac meet us at the dock.
So? Margo prompted. Where were you?
We got sidetracked, Pendergast said, now at the side. One of your flippers was found in a settling
tank at the Treat-ment Plant, badly chewed up. We were afraid that ... He paused. Well, it was awhile
before we decided to check all the secondary exit points of the West Side Lateral.
Is anything broken? Smithback called down.
Might be a small green-splint fracture, the doctor said. Let s get the stretcher lowered.
Margosat forward. I think I can manage the
You listen to the doc, D Agosta said, frowning pater-nally.
As the cutter rode the water next to the dank brickwork,Smithback and the pilot lowered the stretcher
over the side, then Smithback jumped down to helpMargo onto the narrow canvas. It took the three of
them to lift her back over the side. D Agosta followed Smithback and the doctor back on board, then
nodded to the pilot. Get us the hell out of here. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl ocenkijessi.opx.pl
= 64 =
The early morning sun snuck in low over the Atlantic, kissing the sandy fork of Long Island, gliding over
coves and harbors, villages and resorts, bringing a cool summer sweat to asphalt and pavement. Farther
west, the brilliant arc illuminated the nearest reaches of New York City, briefly turning the gray welter of
buildings a pale shade of rose. Following the ecliptic, the rays hit the East River, then burnished the
windows of ten thousand buildings to a temporary sparkle, as if washing the city new in heat and light.
Beneath the thick tangles of railroad track and overhead wire that crossed the narrow canal known as
theHumboldt Kill, no light penetrated. The tenements that reared up, vacant and gray as vast dead teeth,
were too numerous and too tall. At their feet, the water lay still and thick, its only currents formed by the
rumble of the subway trains passing infre-quently on the rail bridge above.
As the sun followed its inexorable course west, a single beam of light slanted down through the labyrinth
of wood and steel, blood red against the rusted iron, as sudden and sharp as a knife wound. It winked
out again, as quickly as it had arrived, but not before illuminating a strange sight: a figure, muddy and
battered, curled motionless upon a thin revetment of brick that jutted mere inches above the dark water.
Darkness and silence returned, and the foul canal was left to itself once again. Then its sleep was
disturbed a second time: a low rumble sounded in the distance, approached in the dim gray dawn, passed
overhead, receded, then returned. And beneath this rumble followed another: deeper, more immedi-ate.
The surface of the canal began to shake and quiver, as if jostled reluctantly to life.
In the bow of the Coast Guard cutter, D Agostastood, stiff and vigilant as a sentry.
There she is! he cried, pointing to a dark figure lying on the embankment. He turned to the pilot. Get
those choppers the hell away! They re stirring the stink up off the water. Be-sides, we might need to get
a medevac in here.
The pilot glanced up at the craggy, burnt-out facades and the steel bridges overhead, a look of doubt
crossing his face, but he said nothing.
Smithback crowded to the rail, straining to see in the light-ening gloom. What is this place? he asked,
tugging his shirt up over his nose.
HumboldtKill, D Agostareplied curtly. He turned to the pilot. Bring us in closer; let the doctor get a
look at her.
Smithback straightened up and glanced over at D Agosta.He knew the Lieutenant was wearing a brown
suit he always wore brown suits but the color was now completely undetectable beneath a damp
mantle of mud, dust, blood, and oil. The gash above his eye was a ragged red line. Smithback watched
the Lieutenant give his face a savage wipe with his sleeve. God, let her be okay, D Agostamuttered to
himself.
The boat eased up to the revetment, the pilot backing the throttle into neutral. In a flash D Agostaand the
doctor were over the side and onto the revetment, bending low over the prone figure. Pendergast stood
in the shadows aft, silent, an intense look on his pale face.
Margosuddenly jerked awake and blinked around at her surroundings. She tried to sit up, then clapped
a hand to her head with a groan.
Margo! D Agostasaid. It s Lieutenant D Agosta.
Don t move, the doctor said, gently feeling her neck.
Ignoring him,Margo pushed herself into a sitting position. What the hell took you guys? she asked, then
broke into a series of racking coughs.
Anything broken? the doctor asked.
Everything, she replied, wincing. Actually, my left leg, I think.
The doctor moved his attentions to her leg, slicing off her muddy jeans with an expert hand. He quickly
examined the rest of her body, then said something to D Agosta.
She s okay! D Agosta called up. Have the medevac meet us at the dock.
So? Margo prompted. Where were you?
We got sidetracked, Pendergast said, now at the side. One of your flippers was found in a settling
tank at the Treat-ment Plant, badly chewed up. We were afraid that ... He paused. Well, it was awhile
before we decided to check all the secondary exit points of the West Side Lateral.
Is anything broken? Smithback called down.
Might be a small green-splint fracture, the doctor said. Let s get the stretcher lowered.
Margosat forward. I think I can manage the
You listen to the doc, D Agosta said, frowning pater-nally.
As the cutter rode the water next to the dank brickwork,Smithback and the pilot lowered the stretcher
over the side, then Smithback jumped down to helpMargo onto the narrow canvas. It took the three of
them to lift her back over the side. D Agosta followed Smithback and the doctor back on board, then
nodded to the pilot. Get us the hell out of here. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]