"Chalker, Jack L - The Dancing Gods 1 The River Of The Dancing Gods" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chalker Jack L)

"Yeah, but that's home sweet home, baby. Get in, get it
off, stick this thing in the junkyard, and I'm in bed with the
old lady. I'll make it."

"All I got is El Paso by ten."

"Aw, shit, you'll make that easy. Say—caught something
your side in my lights about three-two-seven or so you might
check out. Looked like a beaver just walkin' by the side of the
road. Maybe a breakdown, though I ain't seen no cars on your
side and I'm just on you now. Probably nothin', but you might
want to check her out just in case. Ain't nobody lives within
miles o' here, I don't think."

"P 11 back off a little and see if I can eyeball her," Westbound
assured him. "Won't hurt much. That your Kenworthjust passed
me?"

"Yeah. Who else? All best to ya, and check on that little
gal. Don't wanna hear she got found dead by the side of the
road or something. Spoil my whole day."

"That's a four," Westbound came back with a slight chuckle.

"Keep safe, keep well, that's the Red Rooster sayin' that,
eastbound and down."

"Y'all have a safe one. This is the Nighthawk, westbound
and backin' down."

Nighthawk put his mike into its little holder and backed
down to fifty. He wasn't in any hurry, and he wouldn't lose
much, even if this was nothing at all, not on this flat stretch.

The woman was beginning to falter, occasionally stumbling
in the scrub brush by the side of the road. She was starting to
think again, and that wasn't what she wanted at all. Finally
she stopped, knowing it was beyond her to take too many more
steps, and looked around. It was incredible how dark the desert
could be at night, even with more stars than city folk had ever
seen beaming down from overhead. No matter what, she knew
. she had to get some rest. Maybe just lie down over there in
the scrub—get stung by a tarantula or a scorpion or whatever
else lived around here. Snake, maybe. She considered the idea
and was somewhat surprised that she cared about that. Nice
and quick, maybe—but painfully bitten or poisoned to death
by inches? That seemed particularly ugly. With everything else
so messed up, at least her exit ought to be clean, neat, and as
comfortable as these things could be. One thing in her life