"David Robbins - Blade 11 - Quest Strike" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robbins David L)

PROLOGUE
The bag lady knew she was being followed.

Ethel Kunze halted and turned, her dark eyes probing the shadows of
the alley to her rear. Her vision wasn't as keen as it had been, but she still
detected the half-dozen or so vague figures coming toward her out of the
gloom. Her heart beat faster. If they were the Pagan Warlords, she was as
good as dead. They'd warned her to keep away from their turf. And that
wicked one, Mickey, had promised to cut her from ear to ear if she showed
her face again.

Light, menacing laughter came from the darkness.

Terrified, Ethel spun and ran as best she could toward the street 40 feet
away. Her stout legs, afflicted with gout and arthritis, could do little better
than shuffle rapidly. She considered discarding her precious knapsack, but
she would rather die than part with all her worldly possessions.

"Yo! Bitch!"

The familiar chilling voice made Ethel gasp. Mickey! Oh, God! Why had
she decided to visit the clinic tonight of all nights! She could have
tolerated the pain until morning.

"Hey, Ethel! I'm talkin' to you," Mickey called out.

"Yeah, Grandma. Don't be runnin' out on us," someone else added.

Ignoring them, Ethel concentrated on the well-lit street, on her
salvation. If she could get in the open, somewhere other people were
present, the Pagan Warlords might leave her alone. Her plan to use the
alleys and avoid the gang had turned out to be yet another of her great
ideas, ranking right up there with her decision to divorce Bob and move in
with Zeke. No one in their right mind would have given up a dependable
husband like Bob for a lazy alcoholic like Zeke, but she had.

So much for true love.

A grin creased Ethel's thin, dry lips as she neared the street. Only 20
feet to go, she estimated happily. Maybe the Warlords were going to let
her leave. Maybe they were only toying with her. Maybe Mickey didn't
really want to slash her throat. But her grin died the very next moment.

Strong hands seized her arms and held her in place.

Stark fear rippled through Ethel and she froze. The pressure on her arm
hurt. Protesting, though, would only incite them further, and the last
thing she wanted to do was get them mad at her. Out of the corner of her
eyes she detected movement in the dim light.