"Eric Van Lustbader - Sunset Warrior 5 - Dragons on the Sea" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lustbader Eric van)

With a shriek, he disappeared, and Moichi was dragged several heart-stopping feet after him across the
deck. He fetched up against the side with a rib-jolting blow. Half-dazed he held on, gritting his teeth with
the effort, his muscles bulging, veins popping in lightning streaks.

He peered over the side, his face filled with seafoam and rain. He saw the mate's mouth twisted in terror,
his eyes staring wildly. Blood ran off him like pink rain.

'Hold on! I have you now!' Moichi shouted into the storm as he gathered his strength to bring the mate up
onto the deck. But just then, the Tsubasa lurched sickeningly, sending the side they were on plummeting
downward into the thrashing sea. My God, Moichi thought, it's dark down here. Like the underside of
the world.

And with just an indifferent flick of its bulk the ocean took his mate from him, tearing his hand from
Moichi's. The man's mouth opened in a silent shriek as the water in great black swirls lifted him into its
embrace, up, up, and then, quite suddenly, sucking him into itself, down and away.

There had been absolutely no sensation of him slipping away, no intimation of what was to come. One
moment Moichi had him firmly in tow, the next instant there was nothing to hold on to, just the chill
wetness all around, moaning and pitching as if in agony.

God of my father, Moichi thought, I have never seen the sea like this.

His head came up and he squinted through the typhoon, thinking, No! By the Oruboros, this is too much!

But in truth his ears had not deceived him. They were picking up a vibration rather than a true sound - a
horrid, bone-chilling rumbling that reverberated through his body and buzzed evilly in his brain.

With a bellow of rage, Moichi stormed the high poop deck and, shouting mingled instructions and
encouragements to the young, petrified tillerman, brought his own brawny weight to bear on the
protesting steering mechanism. It would not budge.

He raced to the railing, leaped down onto the mid-deck, gesticulating as he picked himself up and ran for
the mainmast. 'Raise the mains'l!' he cried. 'Raise the mains'l!'

No one reacted. The best of them knew only to trim all sail, batten down all hatches and tackle in order
to ride out a storm. Raising sail in the face of foul weather was unthinkable. What their captain was
asking of them was sheer madness.

'Move,' Moichi shouted, 'or we'll all be dead men, lying at the bottom of the sea and food for the big
fish!'

As if to underscore his words all light left the world. In the unnatural blackness the men turned aft. There
came a shriek among them; or perhaps it was the infernal typhoon itself, laughing at its height, at the puny
creatures who dared ride its coruscating back.

No matter. They all saw it at once: the tsunami. The towering wavefront, black and purple, had risen up
behind them, traveling at a fast rate, growing and curling with every split second until it had formed a
massive fortress wall threatening to engulf them. The pressure drop was palpable, a great rushing in their
ears, a pounding in the heads. The crew stood paralyzed, staring helplessly at the advent of their doom.