"Dafydd ab Hugh, Brad Linaweawer DOOM: Knee Deep in the Dead (english)" - читать интересную книгу автора

tural savagery. I wondered how many victims were killed
by the victors' bare hands.
Something moved in the mist.
A shadow, a shape; nothing more. Gunnery Sergeant
Goforth froze us with a slight hiss... Fox is damn-well
trained, even for the Light Drop.
Gates stopped next to me; he touched my arm, silently
pointing to left and right. I saw immediately; whatever
the shapes were, they surrounded us from eight o'clock to
four o'clock... we might be able to retreat, but we
couldn't flank.
I watched the gunny; Arlene Sanders was whispering
something in his ear. She was our scout, the lightest of
the Light Drop. PFC Sanders could fade into the night so
not even a werewolf could sniff her out. My best buddy.
She might have been more; once, we had—no; we were
buddies. We didn't talk about that night. Anyway, she
had Dodd, and I don't separate bookends.
Arlene backed away, backed past me, throwing me a
wink as she vanished. She would swing in a wide arc, ease
around behind the still-moving shades, and report back
to the lieutenant and Gunny Goforth via a secured line.
I'd find out soon enough.
I hadn't moved, and neither had the rest of us; I could
barely hear Bill breathing next to me and couldn't hear
Dodd or Sheill at all. If we were lucky, maybe the dinks
wouldn't even know we were here; they'd just pad right
on by.
Then Lieutenant Beelzebub came running up, de-
manding, "What the hell is going on?" in his normal
speaking voice, an irritating whine.
The lieutenant's name was Weems, actually. I just call
him Beelzebub because he's a fat, sweaty heathen always
surrounded by a swarm of gnats. They like the taste of his
perspiration.
The dinks froze as suddenly as we had; no longer
moving, they vanished into the swirling gray. We had just
lost whatever surprise we had, lost our best chance to
get out of this encounter without a shot fired... and
all because a buffoon who had been a first lieutenant
for three years now couldn't figure out it was a Medusa
drill!
One of them moved; then another. They moved singly,
here and there, and we no longer had a clue where the
mass of them was.
Weems began to panic; we'd all seen it before. "Aren't
we going to take them out?" he asked Goforth, who was
frantically putting his finger to his lips. "Somebody
should take them out. "
Goforth put his hand to his ear; he was listening to