"James Rollins - Black Order" - читать интересную книгу автора (Romeyn Henry)

Still no one acknowledged their arrival. She pictured the dead livestock. Was there even anyone to
rescue? What had happened here? Various etiologies ran through her head, along with routes of
exposure: ingestion, inhalation, contact. Or was it contagious? She needed more information.
"Perhaps you should stay here," Ang Gelu said to Lisa while unbuckling his seat straps. "Let us check out
the monastery."
Lisa grabbed her medical pack from the floor. She shook her head. "I have no fear of the sick. And there
may be questions only I can answer."
Ang Gelu nodded, spoke hurriedly to the soldier, and cracked open the rear hatch. He climbed out,
turning to offer a hand to Lisa. Cold winds swept into the heated interior, aided by the rush of the rotors.
Pulling up her parka's hood, Lisa found the frigid draft drained whatever oxygen was still in the air at this
altitude. Or maybe it was her fear. Her earlier words were braver than she felt.
She took the monk's hand. Even through her woolen mittens, she felt his strength and warmth. He did not
bother covering his shaved head, seemingly oblivious to the icy cold.
She clambered out but stayed ducked under the sweep of the helicopter blades. The soldier left last. The
pilot remained inside the cabin. Though he might land the helicopter as ordered, he was taking no
chances in leaving its canopy.
Ang Gelu slammed the hatch closed and the trio hurried across the potato field toward the jumble of
stone buildings.
From the ground, the red-shingled lodges were taller than they seemed from the air. The centermost
structure looked to be three stories tall, topped with a pagoda-style roof. All the buildings were
elaborately decorated. Rainbow-hued murals framed doors and windows. Gold leaf brightened lintels,
while carved stone dragons and mythic birds sneered and leered from roof corners. Covered porticos
linked the various buildings, creating little courtyards and private spaces. Wooden prayer wheels, carved
with ancient lettering, were mounted on poles throughout the structures. Multicolored prayer flags draped
from rooflines, snapping in the intermittent gusts.
While it had a fairy-tale appearance to it, a mountaintop Shangri-La, Lisa still found her steps slowing.
Nothing moved. Most of the windows were shuttered. Silence weighed heavily.
Then there was the distinct taint to the air. Though mostly a researcher, Lisa had experienced her share of
death while a medical resident. The fetid miasma of rot could not be so easily blown away. She prayed it
was coming only from the livestock on the far side of the pavilion. But from the lack of response to their
presence, she didn't hold out much hope.
Ang Gelu led the way, flanked by the soldier. Lisa was forced to hurry to keep up with them. They
passed between two buildings and headed toward the central towering structure.
In the main courtyard, farm implements lay strewn haphazardly, as if abandoned in a hurry.
A cart tethered to a yak stood overturned on its side. The animal was dead, too, sprawled on its flank,
belly distended with bloat. Milky eyes stared at them. A distended tongue protruded from black swollen
lips.
Lisa noted the lack of flies or other tiny opportunists. Were there flies at this altitude? She wasn't sure.
She searched the skies. No birds. No noise except the hushed wind.
"This way," Ang Gelu said.
The monk headed for a set of tall doors that led into the central dwelling, clearly the main temple. He
tested the latch, found it unlocked, and pulled it open with a moan of hinges.
Beyond the threshold, the first sign of life flickered. To either side of the doorway, barrel-size lamps
glowed with a dozen flaming wicks. Butter lamps, fueled by yak butter. The fetid odor was worse inside.
It did not bode well.
Even the soldier now held back from crossing the threshold, shifting the automatic weapon from one
shoulder to the other, as if to reassure himself. The monk simply strode inside. He called out a greeting. It
echoed.
Lisa entered behind Ang Gelu. The soldier kept a station at the doorstep.
A few more barrel lamps illuminated the temple's interior. To either side, towering prayer wheels lined the