"Julia Gray - Guardian 04 - The Red Glacier" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gray Julia)

the surface of the rock was drier here and less slippery now he was some way
from the water's edge. Eventually, however, it became a matter of real
climbing, rather than scrambling, and on several occasions Terrel scouted a
possible route only to be faced by an impossibly sheer cliff or an overhang.
Each time this happened he was forced to backtrack, and as his frustration -
and fear - increased, he was reminded of when he'd climbed Makranash. The arid
heat of the desert had made his partial ascent of the mountain a very
different proposition, but he had succeeded there and was determined to do so
now. The other difference was that in Misrah he'd had friends, both on the
mountain and at its foot, who might have been able to rescue him had he
suffered a mishap. Here any such failure would almost certainly result in his
death.
Eventually, as his desperation mounted, Terrel discovered a narrow vertical
crevasse. He was able to wedge himself into it, bracing himself on either
side, and edge
upwards like a sweep climbing a chimney. His lop-sided physique made some
movements impossible, and several of the necessary contortions were very
painful, but at least he was moving upwards again. The fingers of his good
hand were already raw from cold and the rough stone, but at least the
exertions of his latest attempt warmed the rest of his body.
The crevasse had many twists and turns, and there were several awkward moments
when Terrel had to negotiate various jagged protuberances or a particularly
narrow sec-tion. However, apart from one occasion when he made the mistake of
looking down — and then had to rest for a while until his limbs stopped
shaking - he made constant advances. By midday he was high above the ocean
and, knowing that a fall now would be fatal, he was moving with great caution.
He had no way of telling how far he was from the cliff top, but he fervently
hoped that the chimney continued all the way there. If he reached a dead end
now, he wasn't sure he'd have either the physical or mental strength to make
the long descent, let alone try again elsewhere. He kept looking up, longing
to see his goal, but it remained tantalizingly out of reach.
Far above him, the clouds had dispersed and the sky was a pale but clear blue,
and Terrel was glad of that. The sun's rays held little warmth but it was
better than nothing, and any rain, sleet or snow would have made his task even
more of an ordeal. As it was, he was apparently trapped in a nightmare where
every new hand- or foothold seemed to make no difference to his overall
progress.
On two occasions, something startled him to such a degree that he almost lost
his grip. The first was when a loud clap of thunder burst in the air above
him. The shock almost dislodged him, and in its aftermath, as the blood
pounded in his ears, Terrel dreaded the arrival of
the storm that was surely on its way. However, what sky he could see remained
clear, and he'd just begun to think that the thunderclouds must have moved
away again when two large, white birds flapped past him as they emerged from
their eyrie. They were squawking furiously at his invasion of their territory,
and the noise and flurry of their wings set Terrel's heart racing once more.
Ducking away from their assault, he almost slipped again, clinging on only by
his fingertips. He didn't have enough breath left to shout at the birds, and
could only hope they'd leave him alone once he was past their nest.
And then it seemed that his worst fears had been realized. The crevasse