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

Five Pagans stepped into view in front of her. They were all attired
alike, wearing jeans and their colors, their black leather jackets bearing
the white skulls on the backs.

"Some people never learn," commented Mickey, a thin guy in his late
teens or early twenties. His pale complexion fit his high-pitched voice.

"Hi, Mickey," Ethel said in greeting, beaming her friendliest smile,
self-conscious of her three missing upper front teeth.

"Don't hi me, lady," the Warlord snapped.

"Please let me go," Ethel said. "I haven't done anything to harm you."
The fingers on her upper arms were digging into her flesh, gouging her
through the flimsy fabric of her baggy dress.

Mickey sighed and shook his head. "You were told to stay out of this
area, weren't you?"

"Yes, but—" Ethel began.

"I don't want to hear no lame excuses," Mickey told her angrily.

Ethel couldn't help herself. "But the clinic is here. Where else am I
going to go for my medicine?"

"Do you think we care, woman?" Mickey rejoined. "We've tried to
explain it to you, but you just won't listen. There are other clinics you
could go to. This one ain't no better than them."

"But the other clinics are too far away. I don't want to travel all the way
to Hawthorne or South Whittier."
 "What you want doesn't matter to us, idiot. All that we care about is
what we want."

"I've spent most of my life in this neighborhood," Ethel remarked
sorrowfully. "I can't leave here."

"You can die here," Mickey pointed out, smirking. He placed his right
hand on her shoulder. "Look, Ethel. We tried to be nice about this. We told
you how it is. Our customers don't like to see scuzzy types like you bums
waltzin' around when they cruise down here to buy their goods."

"Drugs are a dirty business," Ethel stated testily.

"Listen to you," Mickey replied, and some of the others laughed. "You
make the trip to the clinic three or four times a week just so you can get
the free drugs the government hands out to poor trash like yourself."

"That's different. I need the drugs for my pain. I need my medicine to