[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
reinforcements. He went back to the office.
He heard the sharp breaking of glass, and remembered the fire alarm. A lot of
good that's going to do, he thought.
Remo entered the room just as Blaise grabbed the lever.
"Don't waste your time," Remo said.
To Remo's right, the head of the commandant poking through the wall screamed,
"Don't! Blaise! Don't!"
Remo started forward. Blaise pulled the lever.
Then a wave of concussive force blew out every wall in the office, and there
was a hot yellow sheet of fire directly in front of Remo's astonished eyes.
Through the darkness that came next, he could hear echoing detonations. He
counted seven. One for each of the buildings in the reeducation camp.
Chapter 24
There was nothing to hang on to. And even if there had been, the shock wave
would have been too strong to resist.
Remo let it carry him. His body, reacting to free-fall, went limp. He could
feel the heat on his bare arms, smelled the hair singeing off, and prayed he
wouldn't be scarred for life.
Most of all, he thought of how stupid he had been. He had taken the fire alarm
at face value. It had been wired to a detonator. The entire complex had been
rigged to self-destruct when that lever was pulled.
Page 103
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
A tree branch slashed at Remo's face. Blindly, he grabbed out, snared another.
It groaned, snapped, and Remo slammed into a nest of branches that lacerated
his face and arms.
After that, he dropped straight down. He rolled upon impact and kept rolling,
in case he was on fire.
Remo only stopped rolling when his back slammed into a boulder and blew the
air out of his lungs.
He lay there a moment, taking inventory. His eyes came open, and he found his
feet. The hair had been burned off his exposed skin and he'd lost a little off
his head, but there were no broken bones, no internal injuries. He looked
around.
The fires were everywhere. They crackled and snarled like trapped animals. The
heart of the conflagration was like looking into a fallen sun.
"Cheeta," Remo croaked, climbing to his feet. "Chiun will kill me if she buys
it."
Remo moved toward the flames. A man came running out, his mouth open in a
silent scream, his flaming arms beating like mad phoenix wings.
He ran and ran and then just flopped on the ground and kept burning. He
stopped flapping his burning arms, though.
The heat made it impossible to enter the flames. Remo circled the blaze, which
was so hot the perimeter fence had begun to wilt.
There were screams coming from the different burning structures. They sounded
like they were being ripped out of the throats of their authors. They didn't
last long at all.
Remo was forced to retreat.
He found Blaise Perrin draped across a boulder, his spine broken in three
places. Remo grabbed up a fistful of hair and pulled his head back.
Perrin groaned. "You . . . can't . . . prove a . . . thing."
"What was that place?" Remo asked harshly.
"Reeducation . . . ."
"For political enemies?"
"No . . . for . . ." Blaise closed his eyes slowly.
Remo shook him back to consciousness.
"For . . . smoke . . ."
"For smoke?"
"Smokers," Perrin hissed.
"This is a concentration camp for people who smoke?" Remo said incredulously.
"It was . . . completely . . . humane. We had . whole program. Nictone . . .
transdermal patches. Aerobics. Shots."
Remo pulled out one of the Band-Aids he had found in the storeroom. "Is this
one of the patches?"
"You . . . put it on . . . person's skin and . . . it makes them allergic to .
. . tobacco. By the year two thousand California would be smoker-free."
"Smoker-free? What about people's rights?"
"Smokers . . . have . . . no . . . rights," coughed Blaise Perrin. His head
went limp. This time, no matter how much Remo shook him, he didn't come
around. He would never come around again.
Remo used a heavy boulder to scoop out a fire trench, so the blaze wouldn't
spread, then reclaimed his car, which was intact. The TV van had protected it.
Its tires were smoking and melting slowly.
As Remo drove away the gas tank caught, and the van shot ten feet in the air [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
reinforcements. He went back to the office.
He heard the sharp breaking of glass, and remembered the fire alarm. A lot of
good that's going to do, he thought.
Remo entered the room just as Blaise grabbed the lever.
"Don't waste your time," Remo said.
To Remo's right, the head of the commandant poking through the wall screamed,
"Don't! Blaise! Don't!"
Remo started forward. Blaise pulled the lever.
Then a wave of concussive force blew out every wall in the office, and there
was a hot yellow sheet of fire directly in front of Remo's astonished eyes.
Through the darkness that came next, he could hear echoing detonations. He
counted seven. One for each of the buildings in the reeducation camp.
Chapter 24
There was nothing to hang on to. And even if there had been, the shock wave
would have been too strong to resist.
Remo let it carry him. His body, reacting to free-fall, went limp. He could
feel the heat on his bare arms, smelled the hair singeing off, and prayed he
wouldn't be scarred for life.
Most of all, he thought of how stupid he had been. He had taken the fire alarm
at face value. It had been wired to a detonator. The entire complex had been
rigged to self-destruct when that lever was pulled.
Page 103
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
A tree branch slashed at Remo's face. Blindly, he grabbed out, snared another.
It groaned, snapped, and Remo slammed into a nest of branches that lacerated
his face and arms.
After that, he dropped straight down. He rolled upon impact and kept rolling,
in case he was on fire.
Remo only stopped rolling when his back slammed into a boulder and blew the
air out of his lungs.
He lay there a moment, taking inventory. His eyes came open, and he found his
feet. The hair had been burned off his exposed skin and he'd lost a little off
his head, but there were no broken bones, no internal injuries. He looked
around.
The fires were everywhere. They crackled and snarled like trapped animals. The
heart of the conflagration was like looking into a fallen sun.
"Cheeta," Remo croaked, climbing to his feet. "Chiun will kill me if she buys
it."
Remo moved toward the flames. A man came running out, his mouth open in a
silent scream, his flaming arms beating like mad phoenix wings.
He ran and ran and then just flopped on the ground and kept burning. He
stopped flapping his burning arms, though.
The heat made it impossible to enter the flames. Remo circled the blaze, which
was so hot the perimeter fence had begun to wilt.
There were screams coming from the different burning structures. They sounded
like they were being ripped out of the throats of their authors. They didn't
last long at all.
Remo was forced to retreat.
He found Blaise Perrin draped across a boulder, his spine broken in three
places. Remo grabbed up a fistful of hair and pulled his head back.
Perrin groaned. "You . . . can't . . . prove a . . . thing."
"What was that place?" Remo asked harshly.
"Reeducation . . . ."
"For political enemies?"
"No . . . for . . ." Blaise closed his eyes slowly.
Remo shook him back to consciousness.
"For . . . smoke . . ."
"For smoke?"
"Smokers," Perrin hissed.
"This is a concentration camp for people who smoke?" Remo said incredulously.
"It was . . . completely . . . humane. We had . whole program. Nictone . . .
transdermal patches. Aerobics. Shots."
Remo pulled out one of the Band-Aids he had found in the storeroom. "Is this
one of the patches?"
"You . . . put it on . . . person's skin and . . . it makes them allergic to .
. . tobacco. By the year two thousand California would be smoker-free."
"Smoker-free? What about people's rights?"
"Smokers . . . have . . . no . . . rights," coughed Blaise Perrin. His head
went limp. This time, no matter how much Remo shook him, he didn't come
around. He would never come around again.
Remo used a heavy boulder to scoop out a fire trench, so the blaze wouldn't
spread, then reclaimed his car, which was intact. The TV van had protected it.
Its tires were smoking and melting slowly.
As Remo drove away the gas tank caught, and the van shot ten feet in the air [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]