Don Pendleton - Predator Paradise

He laid down his assault rifle. He had never fired the weapon, never would. He reached out a hand, swept away the debris the boy had hidden under.

“We must go.”

Did he see a flicker of hope in those eyes?

The boy took his hand, too weak to stand on his own, Nahbat knew, so he scooped the child up, clutching him to his chest.

He looked around at the firestorms consuming their homes, searching, fearing his armed brethren would discover him now, just as he was moving. He coughed, the sound alarming him, afraid he would be heard by roving killers, but he hoped the drifting banks of smoke would help conceal his escape. Beyond two fires, nearly converging, he saw open land. He was skirting around the dead who had been shot where they stood when he heard, “Hussein! Stop!”

He thought he would be sick, felt his legs nearly fold as despair froze him in his tracks. There would be no rational explanation in the eyes of his cousin, he knew, for this action, much less forgiveness.

So be it.

He turned slowly, a nauseous lurch in his heart. As he watched his cousin step through the drifting smoke, the AK-47 up and aimed his way, he experienced a moment of blinding clarity, a strange peace settling over him. It was over; both he and the boy were dead, but he wouldn’t beg for their lives.

“You disappoint me greatly, Hussein.”

“As do you and the others, cousin.”

He decided to try to reason with Omari, if only for the boy, even though he knew it was hopeless. “Do not do this, Omari.”

His cousin laughed. “You would die for him? For what? Why? You would risk catching plague and infect the rest of us?”

He smiled at his cousin. “You are already infected, I am afraid.”

“I have handled none of them, you fool, unlike you, who clutch that boy and are probably now infected yourself.”

“I was referring to your soul.”

The weapon was lowering, Omari considering something, baffled, it seemed, then Hussein saw the madness fly back into his eyes. Even before the weapon was up and blazing, Hussein Nahbat had a stark revelation, aware in his dying moment, as he felt the bullets tearing first into the boy, that he had only been dreaming a fool’s dream for thinking he and the boy could have survived this chaos.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.