Leopard Hunts in Darkness - Smith Wilbur (книга бесплатный формат .TXT) 📗
"Craig!" she called back. "Timon is in a bad way. Can't you help him?"
"Stop for a second." the roof, and scrambled into the back Craig dropped off seat, and immediately Sally' Anne drove on.
eat, his head Timon was lying sprawled half off the s thrown back and pillowed against the door. He had lost gargled in his throat, and the his glasses. His breathing back of his battle-jacket was a soggy mess Of blood. Craig eased him cautiously back in the seat and unzipped his jacket.
He was appalled. The bullet must have come in through the metal cab, and been deformed by the impact into a primitive durn-durn. It had torn a hole the size of a demitasse coffee cup in Timon's back. There was no exit wound.
The bullet was still in there.
There was a first-aid box clamped to the dashboard.
Craig took out two field dressings, stripped the wrappers and wadded them over the wound. Hampered by the Land Rover's erratic and violent motion, he strapped them tightly.
"How is he?" Sally-Anne took her eyes off the ground ahead for a moment.
"He's going to be okay," Craig said for Timon's benefit, but to Sally-Anne he shook his head and mouthed a silent denial.
Timon was a dead man. It was merely a matter of an hour or two. Nobody could survive a wound like that. The smell of hot metal in the cab was suffocating.
can't breathe," Timon whispered, and sawed for breath.
Craig had hoped he was unconscious, but Timon's eyes were focusing on his face. Craig knocked out the Perspex pane of the window above Timon's head with his fist, to give him more air. A
"My glasses," Tim(on said. "I can't see." Craig found the steel-rimmed spectacles on the floor between the seats, and placed them on the bridge of his nose, ing ille sis over is ears.
"Thank you, Mr. Mellow." Incredibly, Timon smiled. "It doesn't look as though I'll be coming with you, after all." Craig was surprised by the strength of his own regret.
He gripped Timon's shoulder firmly, hoping that physical contact might comfort him a little.
"The truck?" Timon asked.
"We knocked it out."
"Good for you, sir." with the smell of burning As he spoke, the cab filled rubber and oil.
"We're on fire! Sally-Anne cried, and Craig whipped around in the seat.
The front end of the Land-Rover was burning, red hot metal from the damaged bearing had ignited the grease and rubber of the front tyre. Almost immediately the -tough the engine bearing seized up completely, and aid roared vainly, they ground to a halt. The slipping clutch wing out from under the burned out, more smoke spe chassis.
"Switch off Craig ordered and banged open the door, grabbing the fire, extinguisher from its rack on the doorpost.
He sprayed a white cloud of powder over the burning front end, snuffing out the flames almost instantly, and then unhitched and lifted the bonnet, scalding his fingers on hot metal. He sprayed the engine compartment to of the fire, and then stood back.
prevent a resurgence "Well," he said with finality. "This bus isn't going anywhere any more! The silence after the engine roar and the gunfire was overpowering. The pinking of cooling metal from the body ig walked of the Land' Rover sounded loud as cymbals. Cra to the rear of the cab and looked back. The bogged truck was out of sight behind them in the heat haze. The silence buzzed in his ears and the loneliness of the desert bore down upon him with a physical weight and substance, seeming to slow his movements and his thinking.
His mouth felt chalky dry from the adrenalin hangover.
Voter!" He went quickly to the reserve tank under the seat, unscrewed the cap and checked the level.
"At least twenty, five lit res sop There was an aluminium canteen hanging beside the AK 47 in the rack, left by one of the grave, diggers Craig topped it up from the tank, and then took it to Timon.
Timon drank gratefully, gulping and choking in his haste to swallow. Then he lay back panting. Craig passed the canteen to Sally-Anne and then drank himself. Timon seemed a little easier, and Craig checked the dressings.
The bleeding was staunched for the moment.
"The first rule of desert survival, Craig reminded him self, "stay with the vehicle." But it didn't apply here. The vehicle would draw the pursuit likea beacon. Timon had mentioned spotter aircraft-On this open plain they would see the Land-Rover from thirty miles. Then there was the second patrol coming down from the Plumtree border-post. They would be here in a few hours.
They couldn't stay. They had to go on. He looked down at Timon, and understanding flashed between them.
"You'll have to leave me," Timon whispered.
Craig could not hold his eyes, or reply. Instead he climbed on to the roofagain and looked back.
Their tracks showed very clearly on the soft earth, filled with shadows by the lowering angle of the sun. He followed them with the eye towards the hazy horizon, and then started with alarm.
Something moved on the very edge of his vision. For long seconds he hop el it was a trick of light. Then it swelled up again, ll0e a wriggling caterpillar, floated free of earth on a lake of mirage, changed shape once more, anchored itself to earth again and became a line of armed men, running in Indian file, coming in on their tracks. The men of the Third Brigade had not abandoned the chase.
