[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
walls!
Flash flood!"
Boday jumped down, knocked loose the pin, then made sure Sam was down and made
for the walls. In back of them, they could see remnants of the train scattered
all over the canyon floor, some still inside that narrow stretch that would be
flushed like a toilet any minute. There was no way to do more than scream
warnings as they got up as high as they could. Charley was way ahead of them,
her hands holding onto a very narrow rocky outcrop. She intended to pull
herself up if she could, but she turned and saw the wall of water coming and
could hardly believe her eyes. The surge looked like some dam had busted.
As if in slow motion she watched the narrow end of the canyon as horses reared
and started to run while others, just stick figures, turned and watched what
was coming in sheer panic.
The water hit her like a brick wall and instantly she, who had gotten the
highest up, was none the less in the water and being carried at high speed
toward the rock wall of the narrows, back where she'd come from.
She kicked off her boots, took a deep breath, and went under, hoping to ride
the center surge.
Charley came to in what seemed to be dense brush. For a moment she didn't know
what had happened or where she might be, but after she'd coughed up a little
water and taken several deep breaths she suddenly thought, I'm alive! I made
Page 159
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
it!
But-to where? The top of the canyon? Not likely. Somewhere high up in that
narrows section where there were lots of ledges. She got up, feeling a bit
bruised in the ribs but otherwise surprisingly good. Her long hair was
waterlogged and it took a lot of wringing out before it was manageable enough
to forget for the time being.
It was only a few yards to the edge and she saw she was just where she
thought-on some fairly wide and lengthy ledge about two thirds of the way up
the canyon wall. At least the bushes here didn't drink your blood-although it
probably wouldn't matter if they did right now. After that drink they d had,
there was no way they could take any more for a while.
The water was already receding and, frankly, gave little hint of what it had
been not long before. The clouds were breaking and the sun was actually coming
out. It seemed good at first, but as soon as the heat and tremendous
evaporation hit she began to wonder if clouds weren't better.
She couldn't see well enough at this distance to make out details, but it
looked like loads of debris scattered all over the canyon floor, maybe even
the bodies of drowned horses and nargas. Maybe the bodies of people, too, she
thought suddenly. Sam, Boday, those really nice kids . . .
She had survived, although it looked mostly like luck. Maybe others had as
well, although she wasn't at all sure how good a swimmer Sam was. Maybe that
demon knew all the swimming tricks, though. It was a hope. The water level had
been high enough but not so high as to wash anybody up out of the canyon, that
was for sure, except maybe right at the end- and that would have washed them
right into those creepy crawlies that lived there. Of course, they were so
saturated that somebody might have a chance if they weren't so full of water
they couldn't come around in time to get back.
Still, she knew she had to face facts. She could hope they survived, hope that
everybody survived, but from a practical point of view she was alone and it
was one hell of a long way down without a rope.
She examined herself. A few scratches, probably from the bushes, and the
bruises, nothing more. She was oddly undressed, though. She'd been wearing one
file:///F|/rah/Jack%20L.%20Chalker/Chalker,%...01%20-%20When%20the%20Changewin
ds%20Blow.txt (136 of 156) [1/19/03 4:09:41 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Jack%20L.%20Chalker/Chalker,%20Jack%20L%20-%20Changewinds%201%2
0-%20When%20the%20Changewinds%20Blow.txt of the stretch pullover tops and that
had come through fairly well, but when she'd contorted to get the boots off
she'd also slipped off the pair of work pants that threatened to drag her down
with their extra waterlogged weight. She was naked from the waist down, a
rather odd feeling. She slipped off the top and wrung it out as best she
could, then went over to lay it out on one of the bushes to dry. Better
something than nothing with this sun. She was about to stretch it out when she
suddenly saw a hand and gasped. She cleared away as much as she could and
found a man there.
He was dead; no question about that. It was Fromick, one of the quieter crew,
who had been one of the men who'd set out after the two surviving raiders. His
clothes were bloodstained and ripped to shreds-he must have hit the rocks and
not much use, but, oddly, his gunbelt was still on and the twin pistols still
in their holsters. She didn't like touching dead men, but if she could have
made use of the shirt or pants she'd have done so. She undid the belt and
managed to get it off him. Most crew kept their personal stuff in the crew
wagon, but these belts often had compartments, pouches, whatever, for
practical stuff.
It was well worn; a veteran's gunbelt, but it was also very well made. She
examined it, felt it-it felt heavy and looked a bit too thick. There were also
some pouches which she opened and checked, knowing that they were supposedly
waterproof.
Some money-the hell with that. What good would it be here, anyway? A
Page 160
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
silver-plated cigarette case containing fifteen cigarettes and a small
flint-activated lighting stick. That might come in handy. The cigarettes were
dry; the odds were she could build a fire if she had to. A partly eaten bar of
dark chocolate-that was a godsend. A tiny, toy-like penknife. And, all along
the lining in a clever series of folds, bullets.
She examined the pistols. They were nicely balanced, if a bit strange to look
at. No barrel. Somebody could make machine guns with thirty-caliber
copper-clad ammunition, but nobody official had more than a single-shot
weapon. Weird.
Surely these people could figure out the principles involved. It was like
there was a law against repeaters or something.
And, of course, she realized that this must be it. It must be, in fact, the
explanation for a lot of crazy things like people with flush toilets, electric
ranges, and elevators, who didn't have cars or trains or telephones or even
telegraphs and whose guns had single shots so their swords wouldn't be
obsolete.
It was like a code. If the Akhbreed controlled everything, they also
controlled what knowledge was permitted to get out and what could be made in
the colonial factories. No repeaters. Not honorable or something.
But you didn't make fancy machine guns and the kind of ammunition they used
without big factories, machine tools, standardized parts, lots of supplies.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]