[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
it tumbled snout over rump to land gracelessly on its back.
Before Blood-sniffer could rise, Ryan was up and over and on top of the wolf.
He secured a headlock, one arm around the furry throat, the other pressing
forward from behind.
The wolf struggled, muscles like steel cables covered with fur, hind legs
kicking and
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Dlands 37- Demons of Eden flailing. Ryan heaved the animal's body up, then
smashed it against the ground. The wolf grunted noisily as air was driven
violently from its lungs.
With a convulsive effort, Blood-sniffer twisted inside Ryan's crushing grip.
Fangs fastened around his forearm, and he was forced to release his hold or
have his arteries ripped open.
Back-somersaulting away, Ryan kicked the wolf so hard in the rear that its
hindquarters rose off the ground and it rolled in a tangle to the edge of the
arena. He thought he heard
Sisoka cry out.
The pair of combatants paused, glaring at each other. The hot, sweet taint of
fresh blood tinged the air, and the spectator wolves sniffed and wrinkled
their snouts in snarling grins.
Blood-sniffer stood on wide-braced legs, flanks heaving, head hanging low,
ears laid flat.
Blood and sweat wetted the gray fur.
Ryan trembled with fatigue. As the first rush of adrenaline faded, he began to
feel the pain of his wounds, feel weakness as his blood streamed from them.
Perspiration formed beneath the heavy wolf skin, trickling down his body and
into the raw lacerations on his chest and ribs. Though they stung fiercely,
surrender wasn't an option.
Slowly he scanned the spectators. Pizi and his human warriors were as
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blank-faced as before. Only Sisoka showed any emotion. An expression of pity,
of sorrow, was in her somber eyes, but Ryan had no idea if it was for him or
Blood-sniffer.
Though the dulled fire of beast-rage still burned within him, Ryan's reason
told him that he couldn't hope to chill his opponent. It was doubtful if
Blood-sniffer could chill him, either. They were too evenly matched. The best
that could be hoped for, after a protracted and bloody battle, was a
stalemate. Even if that was the outcome, he would be so chewed and clawed he
would have to spend days, maybe weeks, convalescing.
Taking and holding a deep breath, his face set in a grim mask, Ryan slowly
climbed to his feet, noting distantly that standing erect felt a little
strange. He tugged the wolf cowl back from his head.
From his position on the slope, Pizi barked, "On all fours, outlander!"
"Fuck you," Ryan snapped. "I won't perform for you any longer. Neither of us
will. Come
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Dlands 37- Demons of Eden and chill me yourself if you have the guts."
At Ryan's words, expression and emotion formed on Pizi's face. His brows
lowered, and a monstrous wrath flared in his eyes. His lips writhed, and
hefting his lance, he made a motion to jump down into the arena.
Blood-sniffer suddenly bounded forward, taking a position between the two men.
The wolf took three, soft padding steps toward Pizi, and sunlight gleamed on
bared fangs. The meaning of the low, menacing growl was unmistakable.
As though that was a signal, a burst of sound broke from the assembled
spectators the shouting of humans and the long, undulating howls of wolves.
Looking smugly at Pizi, Sisoka said in a loud, ringing voice, "It is over.
Blood-sniffer has accepted Ryan Cawdor into the pack. He is now a Wolf
Soldier."
Since she made the announcement in English, Ryan knew it was for his
understanding alone. He stood in the center of the arena. Breathing was an
agony.
Blood oozed and took his strength with it, and every muscle, ligament and
joint was a separate ache and pain.
He wasn't sure what to do next, so he did the first thing that occurred to
him. He lifted his head and joined in the chorus of howls.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Joe's finger tightened on the trigger of the Uzi, his knuckle turning white.
"If any of you have the least bit of influence over your young friend, now is
the time to exert it."
Jak's crimson eyes were locked in a sardonic challenge with Joe's black,
unblinking gaze.
The blade in his hand was rock steady.
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Dlands 37- Demons of Eden
Silence fell on the room. A child's laughter from outside sounded huge and
hollow. Joe's dark eyes shadowed with menace.
"One knife against two blasters," he said. "Don't be stupe."
"For smart man, you stupe," Jak replied. "Chill me, sure. You die, too."
Krysty edged forward, hands up, palms open, fingers spread. "Enough, Jak. Put
away the blade. You can only chill Joe."
"What I want."
"What about you?"
"Don't care."
"I care," she said in a tone deceptively casual. "We all care. And you've got
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to care, too.
When you drop Joe, Little Mountain will open up with the scattergun. All of us
will die."
The teenager's gaze wavered slightly.
"It's not necessary," Krysty whispered. "Joe said we're in a fix, and he's
right. But we've gotten out of plenty of fixes and fixed the fixers.
Remember?"
The knife didn't so much as tremble in the white fingers.
Krysty kept talking, kept moving slowly forward. "You fixed the General,
remember?
Took you a while, but you fixed him."
At the mention of the man who was responsible for the murders of his wife and
child, Jak blinked, his gaze wavering even more.
"Give yourself, give all of us, that same while to fix Joe."
Jak lowered his arm and dropped the knife, and it sank point first into the
wooden floor.
His white face was grave, his eyes angry and bitter with memories and
frustration.
Doc made a muffled exclamation, and Mildred sat on a bunk, running a hand over
her
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Dlands 37- Demons of Eden face. The moment of relief quickly came to an end
when several warriors swarmed into the room and bound their wrists with strips
of rawhide.
Joe dabbed at the fine dew of perspiration on his upper lip. "Young Lauren is
in your debt."
"So are you," Krysty said coldly as a man tightened the knots binding her
wrists together. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]