"Fallow Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Melko Paul)

Harry was a user, with no conscience. I decided to help the alien out, at least
until he could take care of himself. Maybe I could help him with his mission or
something. This was the most interesting thing that had happened all summer, and
I wasn't going to let Harry spoil it.
Come on, fella, I said, tugging at the alien's arm. Let's get you outta here. I
didn't want to see the alien cited for hit-and-run. He needed to be someplace
safe until we could clear this all up, get him back to the mother ship.
He groaned, but he moved, his eyes half-open. His legs splashed in the water and
he nearly fell, but he leaned on me and we managed to stumble away from the
spaceship.
Nick watched us for a moment, then returned to piling the skipping stones. We
called them skipping stones, not that he'd ever throw them; he just collected
them. He'd had me throw one once. I slung a beauty, fifteen skips at least
before it sank to the bottom of the Olentangy. But then he became angry when he
realized it was gone. I'd had to wade in and find a stone that looked reasonably
close to the original. Now, we didn't throw them at all. He made piles.
I dragged the alien onto the bank, where he slumped onto the muddy sand. From
the other shore, I heard voices. Harry was just beyond the tree line. I saw his
red-and-white middle school jacket between the vines and short maples.
Nick, help me get this guy up the bank, I said.
Nick didn't look at me, but I knew he heard. He can fool Ernie, but I know him
too well. I kicked him on the butt with my wet tennis shoe.
He grunted. Help me, I said.
Together we rolled the alien up the gentle slope and over its far side. When the
river was high, it would flow around the little peninsula where I liked to fish.
On the far side were rocky puddles where a few crayfish lived.
What the hell?
Harry was wading into the river toward the car. I picked up my pole and cast a
line into the river.
Harry circled the spaceship while Egan sat on the shore tossing rocks onto its
hood. Harry peered into the front seat. He reached in and touched his finger
against something on the steering wheel: blood.
Then he looked around and saw me.
What happened, Priscilla? Did Mr Joyce drive his car into the river?
Dunno, Hairy. He knew I was mispronouncing his name, though I didn't say it any
differently. When he'd started those rumors, I'd made sure everyone knew what I
thought of him. Egan snorted.
Cars don't just fall outta the sky, Cilly, he said. He took a step toward me.
I reeled in my line and didn't reply.
Where's the driver? He took another step.
Dunno, Hairy, I said and cast my line toward him. He jerked as the red-and-white
bobber fluttered in the river a few yards from him. After our truth-or-dare
adventures, he'd tried to press his advantage down by the river. My hook had
caught his cheek just under the eye. He still had a puckered, pink scar where
I'd yanked it out.
Screw you, Cilly, he said.



The alien was sitting up. He had smoothed the skin back into place, and there