"Wen Spencer - Ukiah 3 - Bitter Waters" - читать интересную книгу автора (Spencer Wen)

get the legendary Wolf Boy involved.
"How long has it been raining?" Ukiah found his rain gear—boots, pants, and coat—and pulled
them on.
Ari glanced upward, as if noticing the fine rain for the first time. "Maybe about two hours. Off
and on. It's the first time in weeks that it's rained, wouldn't you know. The family turned the house upside
down, and we've combed the neighborhood. Not a sign of the kid."
"This rain is going to make it tough," Ukiah told him.
Ari shrugged with a rustle of rain gear. "They say you're the best at this."
Ukiah knew they said a lot more than just that. He found the bag with the GPS equipment and
pulled it out of the pile of luggage. It felt odd threading the tracer into his belt without first putting on his
body armor.
Max returned with a baby blanket as Ukiah pulled on his radio headset. "This is Kyle's blankie."
Ukiah brushed his fingertips over the worn blue cotton, finding genetic traces of a dark-haired
boy with dark eyes and a tendency toward hyperactivity, who would someday be tall and intelligent if he
survived his adventure. Ukiah pressed the blanket to his face, closing his eyes, and breathing in the boy's
scent. No blood trace or sign of violence stained the cloth. He came up out of focusing on the blanket to
find he missed most of what Max had said, but it was stored in his hearing memory, recorded despite his
lack of attention to it.
"This is going to be nuts, kid," Max had said, checking on the tracer's signal. "This boy sounds
like he has less sense than God gave a rabbit. They've got two locks on his bedroom door just to keep
him in at night."
"He's not stupid," Ukiah told Max. "He's just got too much curiosity, too much energy, and no
experience."
"That's just as bad."
Ukiah considered what he knew of the area. They were on the edge of Wilkinsburg, where it
climbed up into the hills that separated it from Penn Hills. Like much of Pittsburgh, the houses dotted the
steep hills wherever one could find a foothold to build. Pockets of scrub woods occupied the parts
deemed too sheer. At the foot of the hill lay the rest of Wilkinsburg, with plenty of buildings standing
empty and a reputation of being a rough neighborhood, and then the river. Fascinating danger lay in every
direction.
"Yes, I suppose it is."
***
A flood lamp gleamed on the tiny, rain-bejeweled backyard, littered with toys. Barely ten feet by
twenty feet, the fenced-in area of worn grass seemed a relatively safe and escape-proof area. Ukiah
ignored the toys and grass to concentrate on the fence. As he expected, the rain-slick steel held traces of
the boy's climb to freedom. Beyond the fence, the land fell away into a nearly sheer drop, its steepness
disguised by wild cherry trees and banks of dying goldenrod. Animals had pushed paths through the tall
brush, and the boy had followed.
The path came out on the parallel street, lower down the hillside. The cement of the sidewalk
seemed washed clean by the rain. Ukiah crouched at the edge of the woods, sweeping hands over the
wet stone, trying to find any clue. Max drove up in the Cherokee, turning off the headlights as he turned
the corner so as not to blind Ukiah's now highly light-sensitive eyes.
Focused on the hunt, Ukiah was only dimly aware that Max had gotten out, and signaled Ari in
his squad car to kill his lights. The policeman got out with the thud of a car door and the quiet squeak of
rain gear rubbing against itself.
"How does he do it?" Ari asked quietly. "I can't even see."
"He was raised by wolves." Max misled Ari. It was true Ukiah spent years running with the
wolves, but it had nothing to do with his abilities.
"I thought all that wolf boy stuff was bullshit."
"Not all," Max said. "By the way, Ari, thanks for the baby stuff in June. It was a lifesaver."