A Time to Die - Smith Wilbur (читать книги полные .txt) 📗

A cloud of metallic green flies buzzed around the blood-soaked bandage that covered his shoulder. They settled on the soiled dressing and tasted it with their long proboscises, then rubbed their front legs together with delight. Claudia saw that they had laid their rice-grain eggs in thick rafts on the bloody cloth, and with an exclamation of disgust she fanned them away and scraped the loathsome white eggs from the folds of the bandage.

Job opened his eyes and looked up at her. She realized he was fully conscious once again, and she smiled encouragingly at him.

"Would you like another drink?"

"No." His voice was so low she had to lean closer to him. "You have to make him do it," he said.

"Who? Sean?" she asked.

Job nodded. "He can't go on like this. He's killing himself.

Without him none of you will survive. You must make him leave me here." She had begun to shake her head before he stopped speaking' No she said firmly. "He would never do it, and I wouldn't let him, even if he wanted to. We're in this together, pardner." She touched his arm. "Now, how about that drink?" He subsided, too weak to argue further. Like Sean, Job seemed to have deteriorated alarmingly in the last few hours. She sat beside him, fanning the flies away with an i1ala palm frond while the sun slid slowly down the western sky.

In the cool of the afternoon Sean stiffed and sat up, instantly wide awake, taking in his surroundings with a quick glance. The sleep had revived and fortified him.

"How is be?" he asked.

When she shook her head, he came to squat beside her. "We'll have to get him up again pretty soon."

"Give him a few more minutes," she pleaded. Then she went on, "Do you know what I've been thinking about while I've been sitting here?"

"Tell me," he invited, and put his arm around her shoulders.

"I've been thinking about that water hole out there. I've been fantasizing about pouring water over myself, washing my clothes, getting rid of this stink."

"Have you heard about NapoleonT" he asked.

"Napoleon?" She looked puzzled. "What does he have to do with bathing?"

"Whenever he returned from a campaign, he would send a galloper ahead of him to Josephine with the message "Je rent re the te have pas. "I'm coming home, don't bathe." You see, he liked his ladies the way he liked his cheese, full bodied. He would have loved you the way you are now!"

"You're disgusting.". She punched his shoulder, and Job groaned.

"Hey, there." Sea; turned his attention to him. "What's going down, monT"

"I'll take you up on your offer now,". Job whispered.

"Morphine?" Sean asked.

Job nodded. "Just a little shot, okay?"

"You've got it," Sean agreed, and reached for the medical pack.

After the injection Job lay with his eyes closed, and they watched the taut fines of pain around his mouth slowly relax.

"]setter?" Sean asked. Job smiled softly without opening his eyes. "We'll give you a few minutes more," Sean told him, "while we make the radio sched. with Banana Tree."

Sean stood up and went across to where Alphonso was already rigging the radio aerial.

this is Banana Tree." The response to Alphonso's first call was so strong and clear that Sean started.

Alphonso adjusted the gain and then thumbed the microphone and gave another fictitious position report, as though he were still on the return march to the river area.

There was a pause, filled only by the drone and crackle of static.

Then another voice came equally clear and loud. "Let me speak to Colonel Courtney!" The intonation was unmistakable, and Alphonso looked up at Sean.

"General China," he whispered. He offered Sean the microphone but Sean pushed it aside and frowned with concentration as he waited for the next transmission.

In the silence that followed, Claudia left Job's side and crossed quickly to Sean. She squatted beside him and he placed his arm around her protectively; both of them stared at the radio.

"The deserters," she said softly. "China knows."

"Listen!" Sean cautioned. They waited.

Very well. " China's voice again. "I can understand that you do not wish to reply. However, I will presume that you are listening, Colonel."

All their attention was on the radio, and Job opened his eyes. He had heard every word China spoke quite clearly, and he rolled his head.

Alphonso had left his pack and webbing piled on his blanket not ten paces from where Job lay. The butt of the Tokarev pistol protruded from the side pocket of the pack.

"You have yet to disappoint me, Colonel." China's voice was mellow and affable. "It would have been too simple and totally unsatisfying if you had merely blundered into the arms of the reception committee I had arranged for you at the Zimbabwean border."

Job eased himself up on his good elbow. There was no pain, merely a sensation of weakness and drowsiness. The morphine was working. It was difficult to think clearly. He focused all his attention on the pistol, and he wondered if Alphonso had chambered a round. He began to move toward it, extending his legs, digging in his heels, then lifting his buttocks clear, and jackknifing his legs.