by Algis Budrys
Robb looked at him, patting the breeches of his .75s. “Open fire, Joe?”
“No! No—leave the poor bastards alone.”
He looked over toward the girl. “Hey, Jody,” he grinned.
The halfback lumbered down the last slope, spraying stones out from under its tracks as it took a bite of the prairie grass. Custis jammed his hands against the sides of the hatch and scowled out at the plains ahead, where Chicago lay beyond the edge of the green horizon. He didn’t turn his head back. He was through with the mountains.
He was going to Chicago. He thought about the jagged holes in State Street’s asphalt. He shivered a little.
The End
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-e77ccb-9ae0-5946-449a-b2c7-3899-cf475e
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 23.09.2011
Created using: Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
Document authors :
Verdi1
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