"Laura Annie Gilman - End of Day" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gilman Laura Anne)

End of Day
Laura Anne Gilman

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“End of Day” was born of a single line, a single voice coming out of the darkness,
and the smell of smoke burning in the distance. The characters are some of the
most disturbing I’ve ever written, and yet also some of the most endearing in their
own way. It’s a cautionary tale, but perhaps not in the way that seems at first
obvious ... This was also the story that inspired the entire “Dragon Virus” series,
including “Dragons” and “In the Aftermath of Something Happening.”

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WHEN WE FOUND THE BODY stuck up on the signpost, we figured for sure the
howlers were back. I mean, who else would leave all that meat there to burn?

Jody wanted to leave him there. Once howlers have their paws on meat, who
knows what’s gotten into it? But you don’t waste. No profit to it. So while Roo and
Nance stood guard, I got to shimmy up and unhook our corpse. All the joys my
Changes have brought, slinging a dead weight over my shoulder ain’t one of them.
And the flies kept getting into my nose and mouth.

Landing hard, I dropped the corpse on the ground. Flat white face stared
back at me. I hadn’t noted that before. He was white. Pure white. The dark hair had
me fooled, I guess. Like a signpost: dumb bunny here.

“Howlers caught him wandering,” Jody guessed, standing behind my shoulder
and watching like the corpse was gonna get up and dance. I shrugged, cracking my
fingers back into human-normal shape. Joints would hurt like hell, next time a storm
blew up, but it was nice to be useful. Jody couldn’t have done that. Not Nance
either. Roo could do anything it wanted, but it never did want. Couldn’t figure out
why the Olders kept it around, except it was a cruel hunter, and we always needed
the meat.

I toed the body, trying to decide if it would be worth stripping it. Roo
rummaged, poking, prodding. Checked pockets, just in case, but wasn’t nothing
there. The cloth looked flimsy, like something a townie would wear. Which
scanned—that white, dumb bunny, corpse was a townie. Had been. Was meat, now.
Roo gave a claws-up, meant the flesh scented clean. I gave it a fade. Nothing more
boring than meat once it’s been found.

Nance came back with her Stick, and we slung the corpse wrist and ankle.
Roo hefted it, muscles flexing under the burden. Stronger than sin, that was Roo.
You never wanted it mad at you. Not that it ever even snarled at me. We’re both
Changed, and Change makes strange bedfellows, the Olders say.

They mean it kind. I don’t care. I’m useful, and useful gets fed first.