started to drag her away from the boulder. 'Come and get her yourself,

Mek. She is here if you want her.'

He tightened his lock around her throat, choking her until she struggled

and gasped, tearing at his arm with her nails and leaving long red welts

across the tanned skin.

'Listen to her! I am crushing this pretty neck. Listen to her choking.'

He tightened his grip, forcing the sounds of distress out of her.

Boris was watching the corner of the boulder where Mek had disappeared.

At the same time he was backing away from it, giving himself space in

which to work. His mind was racing, for he knew that he could not

escape. His right arm was barely usable, and there were too many of

Mek's shufta companions. He had the woman, but he wanted the man as

well. That was the best trade that he could hope for - both of them, he

had to have both of them.

He heard a shout, a strange voice from higher up the slope. Mek's men

were on their way. He was desperate now. Mek was not going to be drawn;

he had not heard him speak or move for almost two minutes. He had lost

him - by this time he could be anywhere.

'Too late,' Boris realized. 'I am not going to get him.

Only the woman. But I must do it now.' He forced her to her knees and

stooped over her, shifting the lock of his arm around her throat.

'Goodbye, Tessay,' he grated in her ear. He tightened his arm muscles

and felt the vertebrae in her neck arched to breaking point. It needed

only an ounce more pressure.

'It's all over for you,' he whispered, and began the final pressure. He

knew from long experience the sound, that the vertebrae would make as

they gave, and he tensed himself for it, poised for that crackle like

the breaking of a green branch, and the stack weight of her corpse in

his grip.

Then something crashed into his back with a force that seemed to drive

in his backbone and crush his ribs.

Both the strength and the direction were entirely unexpected. It did not

seem possible that Mek Nimmur could have moved so far and so swiftly. He

must have left the shelter of the boulder and circled out through the

scrub.

Now he had come at Boris from behind.

His attack was so savage that the arm that Boris had wound around

Tessay's neck opened.- She drew in a wheezing, strangled breath and

twisted out of his grip. Boris tried to turn and swing the rifle around,

but Mek was on him again, seizing the rifle and trying to wrest it from

Boris's hands.

The Russian's finger was still on the trigger, and a shot went off white

the muzzle was level with Mek's face. The detonation stunned him for an

instant, and he released the rifle and staggered backwards with his ears

ringing.

Boris backed away from him, struggling with the weapon, trying to open

the bolt and crank another cartridge into the chamber, but his crippled

right arm'made his movements clumsy and awkward. Mek gathered himself

and charged head down across the gravel beach. He drove into Boris with

all his weight, and the rifle flew out of the Russian's hands. Locked

Вы читаете The Seventh Scroll
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату