"Wen Spencer - Ukiah 2 - Taintet Trail" - читать интересную книгу автора (Spencer Wen)

"I can track at night," Ukiah said.
 Max gave him a cold look. "I know, kid, but I can't see in the dark. I'm not letting you track without
backup." Max considered the rest of the day. "Three is overkill for what we're doing tonight. Let's split up.
We'll rent a second car. Kraynak and I will load the gear, find out what we can on the search-and-rescue
efforts, and then check into the hotel. You can see if you can find Jesse Kicking Deer."
Ukiah slipped both the photograph and the news clipping into his wallet for his meeting with Jesse
Kicking Deer. "Is that okay with you, Kraynak?"
Kraynak didn't answer.
Glancing past Max, Ukiah discovered that the homicide detective was gone again. "We've got to
make sure he takes something before we get on that commuter plane to Pendleton."


Portland International Airport, Portland, Oregon
Tuesday, August 24, 2004


Ukiah hated strange airports.
Any crowded place was an assault on his senses. Here, every person breathed out a cloud of
information that trailed behind them as they rushed to their destinations, every surface was layered thick
with the histories of those who had handled it, and the very air vibrated with countless conversations. Over
the years, he had learned to cope with crowds, keeping his hands in his pockets, filtering the effusion of air
data to the point where he could ignore it. It only worked, though, in places where he had been before, and
among people common to that area. He could only keep out what was familiar, as if there was something
deep-coded inside of him, cautiously checking everything new for danger.
In a place such as this, where his surroundings competed with the crowds for attention, he was lost
in the flood. Everything was new, even the faintly salt-tainted air, pressing in to be noticed, overwhelming
him until he lost track of himself. Max kept a hand on his elbow, guiding him through the jostling confusion.
Once past the gates and into the public concourse, Max veered into a sitting area across from a
Hudson News stand. Fifty or sixty seats made a pocket of quiet beside a children's play area in the shape
of a jumbo jet. Max moored Ukiah in the far back corner, away from the foot traffic. There, Max put his
hands to Ukiah's face and made him focus his gaze on his own.
"Kraynak and I are going to grab our luggage, guns, and equipment and check them with the
commuter airline." Max took out both their phones and turned them on. "Baggage claim is downstairs, and
it's going to be a madhouse. I'm leaving you here. Stay put. I'll be back." He paused, waiting for the phones
to indicate they had a signal. "If you need me, call instead of trying to find me." Max pocketed his own
phone and tucked Ukiah's into his partner's shirt pocket. "Okay?"
Max waited until Ukiah nodded, then left. The flood rushed in again. Ukiah floundered, sorting
through the stimuli. Slowly, enough became known qualities he could then ignore that he felt solid and
grounded. As if welcoming him back to himself, his phone chirped. He dug it out of his pocket. A female
security officer at Pittsburgh's airport had handled his phone when he passed through the metal detectors,
leaving behind a ghost presence of White Linen perfume, Coast soap, and her own unique genetic profile.
"Oregon."
"It's me, love." Indigo's voice competed with a gate-change announcement booming over the
airport's speakers. Ukiah plugged the other ear with his finger, but still felt the words ripple across his skin.
"How was the flight?"
"It was a bit rough," Ukiah answered after the announcement ended. "We kept hitting storms.
How's Kitt?"
Max had vetoed Ukiah's first choice of babysitters: the Dog Warriors. The twenty Pack members
would have devoted themselves to Kittanning and guarded him armed to the teeth. Max, however, had
never forgiven the Dog Warriors for kidnapping Ukiah at gunpoint and wasn't about to trust the alien