"Ken MacLeod - The Highway Men" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacLeod Ken)

The five or six houses were on a curve of the road up ahead. I could see all
of them. They had that Highland look of being out of place. Like suburban
houses stuck down on the moors. Gardens overgrown, sheds falling apart,
big bay windows black and empty.

That was it.

“Nae glass in the windows,” I said. “In any of the windows. And it’s
not broken, either. Just missing.” I passed the binoculars out to Murdo.
“See for yourself.”

He fiddled with the focus wheel. Clumsy in thick gloves. He drew in a
sharp breath as he looked.

“That’s it,” he said as he handed the glasses back.

“Not much to go on,” said Euan.

“Doesn’t look right,” said Murdo.

“Hunker down,” I said. “We’ll take it slow.”

Murdo’s head disappeared from the window. Checking the wing
mirror I could see he had ducked back into the lookout’s bucket. Shaped
like an oil drum, it was bolted to the back of the cab, right behind the driver.
It had a low seat, and a roll of armour padding wrapped around the inside.
Not very comfortable. We used to take turns.

I eased into first gear and the big highway truck rolled forward. Three
hundred metres. Two hundred. One hundred. The first house had a pair of
tall rowans growing at the gap where the gate had been. Couldn’t say they
had brought much luck. I braked and turned off the engine.
 No sound but a blackbird’s song and the questioning croak of a
hoodie crow up on the hill.

“I’ll have a look,” I said. I jumped out of the cab with a thud of wellies
and a crackle of oilskins. “Keep me covered, Murdo.” Even to myself it
sounded a bit corny.

“Are we in China or what?” Murdo scoffed.

“It’s you that’s got us twitchy,” I pointed out.

“Whatever you say, Jase.” Murdo pushed back his parka hood and
planted a helmet on his head. The end of the shotgun barrel poked over the
rim of the bucket.

I walked up the grassy strip where the path had been. A plastic
tricycle, its colours faded, lay in the weeds to one side. I kicked a flat
football out of the way and stepped over a broken plant-pot to look at the