The Rift - Howard Chris (читать книги бесплатно полностью .txt) 📗

Kade leaned off the side of the mammoth and puked up a glob just like the one I’d spat out earlier.

“Better?” Alpha said, clapping him on the back.

“Feels like I’m coming off a bad batch of crystal.”

“Reckon it was something in the water,” she said. “Got us seeing crazy and feeling like crap.”

But I remembered that dried-out moss I’d pulled out of the pack the night before, and wondered if it hadn’t been something we ate.

“Look.” I pointed across the water. There in the distance was the last peak. It sat out alone from the rest. No mountains beyond it or near it, just a big, jagged finger of rock jabbing down.

“The Speaker said the last peak points us home,” I said.

“Then let’s check it out.” Alpha tugged at Namo’s fur to steer him. “Maybe it’ll point us to Crow.”

The stone ceiling was becoming less and less patched with ice, so we were losing light as Namo crashed through the pool. Got closer, though, and we could see a figure beneath that last peak, dark and damp, bobbing on the water.

“It’s him,” I hollered, sliding off Namo and splashing forward.

The purple thread splinting Crow’s broken legs shone through the gloom. I grabbed him. Pulled him towards me. He was floating face up, eyes closed, and his right hand was clasped tight around the pack full of trees.

“I told you,” Kade said, coming up behind me. “The big freak is a thief.”

Alpha shoved at Crow as he bobbed on the water. She slapped his face, then she glanced at me. “He’s breathing.”

She went to slap him again, but Crow’s hand reached up and grabbed her, his fingers locking onto her wrist.

And when Crow’s eyes came open, they were full of madness.

“The lion’s mane,” he roared, his voice brimmed full of tears and echoes. “I and I.”

“Let go,” Alpha said, trying to pull her hand free.

“I and I. In the blaze of God’s dreadlocks.”

“Stop,” I yelled. “Let her go.”

But Crow wouldn’t let go. And his voice bellowed and sang.

“In the lion’s mane. Through the dust and corn, leaving rivers behind us.”

“He’s breaking my arm,” Alpha screamed.

I grabbed Crow’s fingers, twisting them. Trying to bend back his knuckles. Kade was thumping him in the belly, but it didn’t do a thing.

“An army,” Crow moaned. “In the golden sunrise. And the Tree King buried beneath the shade of the South Wall.”

“Banyan,” Alpha wailed. Her eyes so wide and frightened. And I sank my fists in Crow’s face and forced him below the water. Holding him under as he gurgled and twitched. He kept thrashing about, and I kept holding him down. He was dragging Alpha towards him.

But then he just quit.

He let go of her wrist, and she staggered clear. And as Crow’s body went limp, I staggered back, too. I leaned down and pulled the pack of trees from his other hand, checking the saplings, then swinging them onto my back.

Crow floated up out of the water. Eyes shut now. And when his eyes bulged back and spun open, it was because he was coughing, and when he puked, the slime sprayed upward, then landed all over his face.

It was disgusting. And I went to turn my back on him. But he was sick, I reckoned. Just like we’d all been. Driven to madness by the water or the moss or this place.

I splashed water on him, trying to get him cleaned up.

He was crying. Sobbing and shuddering. “What happened?” he croaked. “What have I done?”

“Take it easy,” I said. “You been walking a long way.”

“No. I can’t. Remember? I’m a cripple. You said so yourself.”

“But you walked here. On your own.”

“Don’t leave me, Banyan,” he cried. “Please. I know that you want to.”

“Quit crying,” I told him. “This all just some act?”

“He’s faking it,” said Kade. “I told you.”

“Come on.” I stared down at Crow as he floated in the shallow water. “Stand up.”

“Where’s Namo?” he asked, sounding real feeble.

“He’s just over yonder. Let’s see you walk over to him now.”

“Why you doing this? You seen what GenTech done to me.”

“But I seen where you’re at, big guy. You walked all the way here.”

“Don’t know how it happened.”

“Either you know you’re faking or you’ve fooled yourself, too.” I leaned down to him. “But you can walk. There ain’t no doubt about it no more.”

He found the bottom of the pool and tried to sit up. Tried to stand. Then he managed to haul himself against the jagged rocks of the last hanging peak and leaned against them, barely standing.

“Come on, damn it,” I shouted. “Walk.”

Crow took a step forward. Then another. He let go of the peak, and then he buckled and pitched.

And none of us helped Crow get back up. We just watched as he half swam and half crawled towards Namo, then pulled himself up the side of the mammoth, legs dangling beneath him.

“You go walkabout again,” I called to Crow, “crazy or not, you better not touch these trees.”

He stayed silent as my voice echoed around the cavern.

“Understood, Soljah?” I shouted.

“Yes, man,” he called back, hardly loud enough to hear. “Understood.”

“And this is meant to point somewhere?” Kade muttered, peering up at the peak.

“Supposed to.” I felt its rough edges, fumbling around for some clue.

Alpha shook her head, still rubbing her wrist where Crow had grabbed her. “All it does is point down.”

I ignored them. Just worked my way around the peak. And I made it all the way to the other side before I got smacked in the shins so hard, I landed face down in the water.

I knelt and splashed around, my fingers groping for whatever it was I’d tripped on, and I found me a rusty piece of metal down there. Some kind of iron pipe. Rotten and flaking, but sturdy enough. Big, too. I could barely get my hands around it.

“Thing’s sucking up water,” I said, finding the pipe’s opening, right beneath the rocks of the last hanging mountain. “Check it out. A pipe. Must be pumping the water someplace. I can feel it getting sucked up inside.”

I tried tugging at the pipe, but the thing was bolted in place. And I’d no doubt the other end was also bound tight to something.

We’d just have to follow it to find out where.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Alpha splashed out in front, and me and Kade kept on behind her, Namo following our ruckus as we followed the pipe through the pool. Crow was slumped on the mammoth’s back, and he seemed to have given up speaking as well as walking. He just belched and moaned, holding his stomach. Clutching at the beast as if Namo’s legs had replaced his own.

The water began to get warmer. Thicker, too. Tasted dirty now. Full of silt. And it weren’t much longer before I quit drinking it, no matter how empty my guts.

Then the water started drying up. We started stomping through puddles. And then, when the puddles were gone, we were slopping through mud.

By then, no more light seeped in anywhere, and we could hardly even see each other through the darkness. There was nothing to do but shuffle forward, gripping the iron pipe so you didn’t lose direction and end up lost.

“You want me to take the lead?” I asked Alpha when I bumped into her back one too many times.

“Just move up beside me.”

I quit grabbing at the pipe, started holding her hand instead.

“Hey, Kade,” I called. “Get up here.”

I reached behind me. “It’s easier like this,” I said. “We’ll form a chain. You hold onto me.”