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taste the air that Mildred had commented on, but he couldn't agree with her
about it being fresh. It was damp, smelling of decay and wood smoke.
"What you reckon, lover?" Krysty called.
"Raining. I can tell you that. Running down the rockfall. Also" he looked at
his rad counter, "there's a high yellow reading out there, shading into
orange. Must've been a serious hot spot in the long winters."
"Can we get out?" Dean had moved from his position by the control lever and
was also staring at the tangled mass of concrete and stone.
His father straightened. "Don't see why not. The couple in front of us must've
made it. No sign of crushed bodies out there. Looks like the rocks fell clear
of the door."
The green lever was raised again, taking the sec door up to four and a half
feet. "That'll do," Ryan said.
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"WASHINGTON," J.B. stated, squinting up into the late-afternoon drizzle,
checking his tiny pocket sextant, its batteriesraided from a small techno
armory years earlierkeeping it still functioning.
"State or city?" Doc asked, pulling his frock coat across his shoulders
against the gray, misty rain that was falling steadily, blanking out
visibility above two hundred yards.
"City."
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Krysty's hair was already wet, clinging to her scalp, but she turned away and
looked at the great pile of tumbled lichen-stained stone that had once been
the top floors of a major redoubt. "Figure that those rocks hid the entrance
to the complex, and stopped it being invaded. If this used to be Washington,
then I guess there's still likely to be a few people around."
Doc shook his head. "I fear that there is likely to be but little remaining of
that once great city. I have seen histories, copied from the verbal memories
of the scant survivors, which claim that the nuclear holocaust actually began
here in the seat of government, demiparadise There can be little doubt that
the whole metropolis was blown away in the first treacherous salvo of the
Thirdand lastWorld War."
"True," the Armorer agreed. "All the years that Ryan and me rode with the
Trader, I don't think we ever once came that close to this place. Supposed to
be one big crater where the city used to be. Now they call it Washington Hole.
Just shantytown gaudies and stuff like that."
A little to their left, beyond the crumbling ruins of the redoubt, there
towered a rain-shrouded mountain, looking to be close to five thousand feet
high. Mildred stared up at it with bemused fascination. "I have to turn to
you, Doc, much as I regret it."
"How may I aid you, Dr. Wyeth?"
"I visited Washington a couple of times, for presidential receptions for the
Olympic team. I saw Lincoln and the White House and the Monument. They were
pulling down the old Watergate Hotel." She looked at the others, seeing only
blank faces. "Before your time, I suppose. And way after your time, Doc.
Anyway, point is, I don't remember there being a bastard great mountain
anywhere around. Right, Doc?"
"Correct. Spot on. Ace on the line. Bull's-eye. Exactly right. Nothing much
over four thousand feet, within five hundred miles of here, even all the way
down the Blue Ridge west into Virginia. Mount
Pleasant was just a few feet over that mark, to the north of Lynchburg."
"Volcano." Jak coughed, rubbing at the bandage around his injured right calf.
Mildred lifted a hand against the driving rain. "A volcano ! In Washington,
D.C.? My sweet Lord, but you're right. I can see the plume of steam and smoke
from its top. An active volcano, here! Mercy me!"
"Changes in climate. Changes in altitude." Doc stared into the sky, hands
clasped together like a preacher at a river-crossing meeting. "Changes in
pulchritude. Changes in attitude. Changes in latitude. Changes in lassitude.
Where is the bone that Lassie chewed? Lassitude. Get it? Got it. Bought the
T-shirt."
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"Doc," Ryan said.
"Yes?"
"Shut it."
"Ah, right."
"Rotten stink, Dad." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]