Читать книгу Voice of Hunger. Atpharkfall - Михаил Антонов - Страница 2

I was exactly in the middle of my journey. Tired and haggard. Too exhausted to go forward. It was too late to turn back. The endless sky was surmounted by the Sun. The wind carried hot air from the hot mouth of the desert. I needed a rest. I wanted to drown out the incessant hunger somehow. I stepped forward. One more time.

Did I noticed of all of this venture’s danger? I did. But there wasn’t much choice. Just run. When a caravan is attacked by Purificators, there are usually no survivors. Usually. I managed to escape, but up to this point I had been fighting. Until it became pointless. The others would have fled, too, like me. If they could. But it isn’t easy to get away from the Purificators. They are not afraid of death. They don’t seem to care much about wounds or injuries either. These fanatics are ready to kill as many people as they want to achieve their vague goals. To «purificate» people. Also I lost my weapon. Yes. I left the blade stuck in the armour of this fanatical jerk. What a shame. But there was no time to retrieve it. Although not so long ago, the sword was sharpened by a good master. Sad. Hot sand burns my feet through the worn soles. Gets into the shoes. Crunches on the teeth.

I’m walking on. Trying to save water in a battered canteen. Trying to inhale hot air not too deeply.

The sun is trying to burn me like it is in concern with these fanatical Purificators. Yeah. Haven’t you already heard it? Assholes burn people! They’re great with parties! Songs, dances. Although, how do I know – no one of the «guests» didn’t returned from any of these «parties». Just some rumors. In the evening by the fire. To pass the time on cold nights. Or during the day – to frighten newbies. Did I say that out loud? Huh! The frozen air sticks to my face. Dries my eyes. Tangled in my hair.

The Sun started to setting down nice and slow. The air was getting cooler. Dusked. I heard the first nocturnal animals. Eternal fleeing from the Sun as I am from death. Although, come to think of it… I’m only delaying this moment. I am enjoying the last moments of my life, the last torments in this brazier with lack of water, no food, and with something vaguely resembling a direction. The wind scratches the skin. Obstructing to breathe. Rips off my clothes. I shake the sand out of my shoes. I smile thoughtfully at the inevitable.

When the Sun had set so far that the night had not begun, but the day was already over, I could see a tall stone that looming all the while in the shivering, deceptive air. Since we were almost on our way, I turned in it’s direction, and soon came so close that I could see it more distinctly.

A strange structure that rose out of the rapidly cooling sand looked like a tower. Taller than me. The upper part was destroyed. The strange material was like metal. Where this metal is from? However, it may not be a metal but something else. Something unknown. I figured out which way the shadow would fall when sunrise began, and decided to camp there for the night. I didn’t have any strength left.