"Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. Roadside Picnic (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

flask inside his jacket. He pulled it out and lay with its warm metal
against his cheek for a while. Then still holding onto the flask, he crawled
on. He stopped listening and looking around.
There was a break in the wall and Burbridge was lying there in a
lead-lined raincoat with a bullet hole in it. He was still on his back,
Pulling at the collar of his sweater with both hands and moaning painfully.
Redrick sat next to him and unscrewed the flask's cap. He carefully held
Burbridge's head, feeling the hot, sticky, sweaty bald spot with his palm,
and brought the Bask to the old man's lips. It was dark, but in the weak
reflections of the searchlights Redrick could see Burbridge's wide-open,
glassy eyes and the dark stubble that covered his cheeks. Burbridge greedily
took several gulps and then nervously felt for his sack with the swag.
"You came back.... Good fellow.... Red. You won't leave an old man to
die."
Redrick threw back his head and took a deep swallow.
"It's still there. Like it was nailed to tile highway.
"it's no accident," Burbridge said. He spoke in spurts, on the exhale.
"Someone must have squealed. They're waiting for us"
"Maybe, said Redrick. "Want another swallow?"
"No. That's enough for now. Don't abandon me. If you don't leave me, I
won't die. You won't be sorry. You won't leave me, will you? Red?"
Redrick did not answer. He was looking over at the highway and the
flashes of light. He could see the marble obelisk, but he couldn't tell if
he was sitting there or not.
"Listen, Red. I'm not fooling. You won't be sorry Do you know why old
Burbridge is still alive? Do you know? Bob tile Gorilla blew it. Pharaoh the
Banker kicked the bucket. And what a stalker he was! And he was killed.
Slimy, too. And Norman Four-Eyes. Culligan. Pete the Scab. AII of them. I'm
the only who's survived. Why? Do you know?"
"You were always a rat, said Red, never taking his eyes off the road.
"A son of a bitch."
"A rat. That's true. You can't get by without being one. But all of
them were. Pharaoh. Slimy. But I'm the only one left. Do you know why?"
"I know," said Red to end the conversation.
"You're lying. You don't know. Have you heard about the Golden Ball?"
"Yes.
"You think it's a fairy tale?"
"You'd better keep quiet. Save your strength.
"It's all right. You'll carry me out. We've gone to the Zone so many
times. Could you abandon me? I knew you when. You were so small. Your
father....
Redrick said nothing. He wanted a cigarette badly. He took one out,
crumpled the tobacco in his hand, and sniffed it. It didn't help.
"You have to get me out. I got burned because of you. You're the one
who wouldn't take the Maltese.
The Maltese was itching to go with them. He had treated them all
evening, offering a good percentage, swore that he would get a special suit,
and Burbridge, who was sitting next to him, kept winking to Red behind his
leathery hand. Let's take him, we won't go wrong. Maybe that was why Red
said no.