"Wen Spencer - Ukiah 4 - Dog Warrior" - читать интересную книгу автора (Spencer Wen)

Atticus smelled the blood first.

He'd parked the Jaguar under the floodlights, and he had just paused, door open, his cup of hot

cocoa on the roof, in order to pull off his leather jacket before climbing back into the still-warm car. A

blue Honda sedan came cautiously into the rest stop from the dark highway. The bitter cold wind blasted

over the Honda and brought him the reek of slaughter.

He tracked the car's movements without looking directly at it. It paused at the decision point of

turning into the parking lot or going on to the gas pumps, the right turn signal flashing a yellow warning.

There were four people in the car, three men and a woman. The woman was leaning over the front seat,

pointing toward the retro-styled McDonald's with the large yellow arches. Atticus turned his back to the

Honda as the driver scanned the parking lot.

On the other side of the Jaguar, Ru picked up on his unease. "The Honda?" Ru pretended to

ignore the sedan, seemingly focused on the coffee cup in his hands, tracking the car only with his dark

eyes.

"Yes." Focusing on his sense of smell, Atticus grew aware of the Jaguar's hot engine, oil spilled

on the asphalt nearby, food cooking in the McDonald's, the taint of the ocean a hundred miles away, and

massive amounts of old blood. "They've got something dead in the trunk."

"Ah." Ru sipped his steaming coffee. "Things like that are always a bitch to explain."

"Do you see anything weird about it, Ru?"

The car cooperated and turned into the parking lot. The driver carefully used proper signals and

slowly pulled into a nice dark corner of the parking lot, tucked behind an RV.

"Nada." Ru shrugged one lean shoulder, his black bangs falling into his eyes. "Maybe I need a

closer look." Ru finished his coffee and walked to a trash can across the parking lot.
 Atticus leaned into his car to place his hot cocoa into the front cup holder.

The woman all but bolted from the Honda, hunched over, clutching at her stomach, her face set

in pain. She concentrated on walking, eyes focused on the ground. The men followed, intent on the

woman, worried. All four were in their early twenties, wearing black running suits with jackets zipped