"David L. Robbins - Endworld 27 - Chicago Run" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robbins David L)

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Chicago Run by David L.
Robbins
PROLOGUE
"If you want my opinion, Sarge, these patrols are a waste of our time,"
Corporal Lyle Carson commented while trudging along a secondary road
located five miles southwest of Technic City. He squinted up at the bright
January sun, glad he was wearing his thermal combat fatigues. Even with
the sunshine the temperature hovered only in the twenties. If he didn't
have the thermal protection he'd be freezing his butt off after seven hours
of patrol duty.

"I didn't ask your opinion, Carson," the sergeant responded stiffly from
his position at the head of the six-person column. He glanced over his left
shoulder, his weathered features creasing in a frown. "And from now on
keep them to yourself."

"Sorry, Sarge," Carson said, and leaned forward to whisper to the
dark-haired woman in front of him. "What's eating the sarge today,
Lavender?"

"I don't know," the woman replied. "And it's Private Lavender to you."

"Boy, what a bunch of grumps," Carson mumbled, adjusting the strap
to the Dakon II slung over his left shoulder. He patted the fragmentation
rifle affectionately, thankful for its devastating firepower. Who knew what
they would run into outside the city? Mutations. Scavengers. Raiders.
Monsters. There were endless possibilities. They might even run into him.

Soon the patrol came to a junction, and the seasoned sergeant held
aloft his right hand, signifying a halt. He moved to the center of the
intersection and gazed in each direction.
 Carson consulted his watch. "It's two P.M. Four more hours and the sun
will be down," he commented softly so the sergeant wouldn't hear.

"Afraid of the dark, are you?" Lavender said sarcastically.

"Of course not," Carson countered. "But they say the Shadow does most
of his dirty work after the sun sets."

"Most, but not all," Lavender reminded him.

The sergeant returned. "At ease, people. Take five."