Читать книгу Behind the Moon - Madison Smartt Bell - Страница 37

Jamal threw himself in Marko’s way, and Marko backhanded him aside, swatting him off like a mosquito—Jamal flew off, tumbling as he landed, rolling into a crack of the rock shelter. Julie had no time to wonder if he was hurt, hurt badly or not, because now there was nothing between her and Marko, and nowhere to go but the cave.

She had to stoop, turning sideways to get into it. The edges of rock pressed into her clammily, and she thought, with a half-hysterical hiccup, of spiders, snakes—but Marko was roaring outside the opening, thrusting his heavy arm and stubby fingers after her. She had to—had to go further in. And what if her life ended just like this, like a kernel stuck in the whorls of a nut? The passage tightened as it turned, stone scraping the vinyl between her shoulder blades; she heard a couple more studs tear free and patter down.

Then something gave, or softened rather. The texture of the passage changed, still pressing her on all sides but rubbery now, as warm as flesh, and pulsing. Tripping, tripping—her heart tripped in her mouth—she could hope the whole thing was just a weird trip, if they had cut the molly with acid, like Jamal had said.

If she hadn’t drunk that water. If she had. Her head thrust tighter and tighter into the clasping walls of the passage, then finally, dizzyingly, broke free. She was falling into a cool breezy space, with no direction and no gravity, as if she were falling asleep.