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

"I went south. I'm going east now. First left!" Ukiah shouted and spotted a likely feeder, forty feet
down. While only four feet in diameter, the pipe was still wide enough for him to travel without getting
stuck. "I'm going to head north now. Hopefully it will take me back to Kyle!"
He overshot the feeder, shoved past the opening by the rushing water. Gripping the lip of the
pipe, he hauled himself back and up into the pipe. He had to squat, duck-walking against the water, but
luckily it only came to his shins. Fast-food drinking cups and empty pop bottles floated past him, washed
out of gutters and into the storm drain. He came to a small dam made from a wedged tree branch and a
Kentucky Fried Chicken box.
Perched on top was his mouse.
"Oh, thank God," he breathed. He picked up the tiny bundle of shivering wet fur and, unzipping
his coat, tucked it into his shirt pocket. He broke up the tree branch, clearing it out of his way, letting the
water float the debris away.
"Come on, Ukiah!" Max called over the headset. "It's turning into a downpour out here! You've
got to get out!"
"I'm almost there!" He worked his way past the smaller pipes feeding into his, sniffing for the
blood trace he picked up earlier. There!
His luck held. Kyle's pipe was little more than an elbow, doing an abrupt right angle into the
drainpipe Ukiah crouched in. While only about a foot across, it should have been wide enough for the
four-year-old to wriggle through. Ukiah worked his hands up between the boy and pipe. While Kyle's
front was pressed tight to the pipe, there seemed plenty of room in the back. Why was the boy stuck?
Wedged tight against the center of the boy's back was a ball. Irregularities in the pipe kept the
ball from descending, and the boy lacked any way to push the ball up, as his hands were trapped to his
side.
"Ukiah!" Max was shouting.
"I almost have him, Max." Ukiah pushed the ball up and out of the pipe, and the boy slid down
into his arms in a gush of water like a baby being born. Alive. Unconscious. Ice cold. "Got him!"
"What?" Max shouted.
Ukiah didn't bother to answer. He waddled awkwardly down the pipe, carrying the limp boy. At
the mouth lip, he halted with a groan of despair. The water level had risen dramatically in the junction
pipe; most likely the rushing water would come up to his chest now. Just dropping down into the flow
would be like stepping out in front of a speeding car; he doubted he could keep his feet when it hit him. If
he lost hold of the boy in this torrent, he wouldn't be able to get him back.
"Max! Where are the rescue crews?" He cupped his microphone to keep the water's roar out.
"Max, I'm going to need someone on ropes."
"Hold on!"
He waited in the vast, dark wet roaring. Two lights appeared in the feeder upstream and picked
him out. "I see them!"
The lights separated, one coming on while the other stayed, anchoring ropes. The first rescue
worker came fast, carried on the rush of water like a piece of debris. Ukiah caught Max's scent as the
first light slammed against his pipe, revealing that it belonged to his partner.
"What are you doing?" Ukiah shouted at him.
"Getting you out of here!" Max shouted back. "Come on!"
Max steadied him as he climbed down into the current. The water smashed into him, and then
tried pulling him down and carrying him away. Together they worked their way back to Ari, standing
anchor for the rope. The policeman was tied off with a second rope, leading back to the ladder.
Brilliant light and water streamed down through the open manhole. Hands reached down for the
boy, and Ukiah blindly passed the small limp body upward.
"Go on," Max shouted.
Ukiah ducked his head, lost between cave black and brilliance. "I can't see!"
"Go on, Ari!" Max waved the cop ahead, and then guided Ukiah's hand to the ladder. "Can you