Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第40部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


The　cover　had　yielded　at　last；　and　Blonsky　had　been　the　first　to　climb　through　it；　to　stand
blinking　in　the　unexpected　light；　though　the　others　had　soon　joined　him。
The　Chaos　forces　had　done　a　more　thorough　job；　this　time。
They　had　left　no　walls　of　the　chapel　standing。　They　had　demolished　its　columns；　brought　down
its　roof。　They　had　burned　what　was　left　of　its　pews；　and　smashed　its　altar　beyond　all　hope　of
reclamation。　The　smell　of　cordite　still　hung　heavy　in　the　air；　as　did　the　altogether　more　rotten　stench
of　death。
Blonsky　jabbed　at　the　nearest　corpse　with　his　toe；　turned　it　over　to　inspect　it　properly。　He　didn’t
want　to　stoop；　didn’t　want　to　get　closer　to　it　than　he　already　was。　It　was　a　mutant；　of　course。　Its　grey
fur　was　matted　with　dark　blood；　beneath　its　torn　blue　smock。　It　might　have　been　one　of　the　loyalists
they　had　met；　one　to　which　they　had　talked。　He　couldn’t　tell。　They　all　looked　the　same　to　him。
“What　happened　here？”　asked　Steele。　Gavotski　told　him　about　the　mutants；　their　chapel　and　their
apparent　desire　to　help。　Steele　frowned　and　said　nothing。　Blonsky　guessed　that　he　was　unhappy
about　his　men　allying　themselves　with　the　impure；　but　he　didn’t　want　to　question　his　sergeant’s
judgement；　not　in　front　of　the　troopers。
“Anyway；”　sighed　Gavotski；　“it　seems　they　got　what　they　wanted。　They　died；　fighting。　For　the
Emperor。”
108
“It　must　have　happened　just　after　we　left；”　said　Palinev。　“Maybe　just　a　few　minutes　after。　Do
you　think　any　of　them　escaped？”
Gavotski　shrugged。　“Without　a　full　search　of　the　rubble…”
“Either　way；”　said　Steele；　“it　looks　like　we　are　on　our　own　after　all。”　With　a　sidelong　glance　at
Gavotski；　he　added；　“And　perhaps　it’s　best　that　way。”
Blonsky　couldn’t　have　agreed　more。　“The　only　good　mutant；”　he　muttered　with　some
satisfaction；　“is　a　dead　mutant。”
109
CHAPTER　NINETEEN
Time　to　Destruction　of　Cressida：　01。29。22
The　spaceport　lay　at　the　eastern　edge　of　the　hive；　on　one　of　its　mid…levels。　Steele　knew　the　way；　of
course；　thanks　to　his　brief　inspection　of　the　city　maps　the　day　before。
And　so；　for　the　second　time；　he　found　himself　in　the　back　of　a　rickety　old　truck；　pressed　in
against　his　comrades。　Grayle　and　Barreski　had　taken　the　cab；　still　in　their　black　robes　—　although
Steele　doubted　whether　the　disguises　would　do　them　much　good；　not　with　every　heretic　in　the　hive
on　their　trail。
They　had　been　driving　for　some　time　when　he　felt　the　truck　swerve；　heard　its　tyres　squeal；　felt　an
impact　with　its　front　bumper。　“What’s　happening　up　there？”　he　yelled。
“We’ve　been　seen；　sir；”　Barreski’s　voice　came　back　through　the　partition　that　separated　them。
“A　bunch　of　cultists。　Grayle　tried　to　run　them　down　—　got　a　few　of　them；　too　—　but　two　more
escaped。”
“And　they’ll　run　to　the　nearest　vox…caster；”　sighed　Mikhaelev。
Steele　feared　that　he　was　right。　Until　now；　he　had　been　banking　on　the　hope　that　their　enemies
didn’t　know　where　they　were　heading；　didn’t　know　they　had　lost　their　own　transport。　The　bulk　of
the　Chaos　forces；　with　luck；　would　be　guarding　the　hive’s　exits；　leaving　a　clear　run　to　the　Ice
Warriors’　real　objective。　Now；　that　hope　was　lost。　Now；　all　they　could　do　was　try　to　reach　the
spaceport　first。
Steele　hammered　on　the　partition；　and　shouted　to　Grayle　to　put　his　foot　down。
Confessor　Wollkenden　had　woken　half　an　hour　ago；　looking　nauseous。　He　had　stared　at　the　faces
of　each　of　the　Ice　Warriors　in　turn；　before　drawing　his　knees　up　to　his　chest　and　resting　his　forehead
on　them；　shutting　out　the　world。　Steele　had　collected　dry　rations　and　water　from　his　troopers；　and　the
confessor　had　consumed　them　greedily；　but　he　hadn’t　moved　since　nor　spoken　a　word。
He　looked　up　now；　though　—　and　in　a　loud；　clear　voice；　he　said；　“Is　this　transport　appropriate
for　a　war　hero？　I　will　have　somebody’s　head　for　this。　This　engine　should　be　silent。　We　don’t　want
him　to　hear；　to　come　down　here。　Is　it　almost　time　to　eat？　They’re　waiting　for　me　to　address　them。
They　need　me　to　give　them　hope；　and　the　strength　to　resist。”
The　others　were　looking　at　each　other；　at　the　roof；　anywhere　but　at　the　confessor。　Steele　shared
their　discomfort。　He　had　been　worried　about　Wollkenden　since　he　had　found　him　in　the　dungeons；
had　feared　that　whatever　Mangellan　had　done　to　him　had　broken　his　mind。　He　had　pushed　that　fear
to　the　back　of　his　thoughts；　concentrated　on　the　job　at　hand。　Now　he　had　no　choice　but　to　face　it。
“You’re　free；　confessor；”　he　said。　“Mangellan　isn’t　coming。　He　can’t　hurt　you　any　more。　Do　you
remember　me？　I’m　Colonel　Stanislev　Steele。　I　rescued　you。　I　just　need　you　to　be　patient；　to　be
strong；　and　we’ll　get　you　out　of　here。　We’ll　get　you　to　a　doctor。　They　can　treat　your…　fever。”
“I　still　have　some　water　left；”　offered　Palinev；　“if　you　think　that　might…　I　mean；　if　the
confessor…”
Wollkenden　looked　Steele　in　the　eye；　and　he　said；　“I’ll　say　a　prayer　for　us。”
Steele　smiled。　“I’m　sure　we　would　all　appreciate　that；　sir。”
“And　you　will　kill　him　for　me；　won’t　you？”
“You　don’t　have　to　worry　about　that；　confessor。　In　a　few　hours’　time；　there　will　be　nobody　alive
on　this　planet。　Mangellan　will　be—”
110
“I　don’t　mean　him；　not　the　one　with　the　words。　I　mean　the　big　bruiser　in　the　cloak；　the　one　who
punched　me　in　the　face。　You　will　make　him　suffer；　won’t　you？　You　will　make　him　pay　for
presuming　to　lay　his　hands　on　a　holy　man。”
Steele　was　saved　from　having　to　answer　that；　as；　again；　something　smacked　into　the　truck　and
made　its　frame　judder。　“What　the　hell　has　Grayle　hit　now？”　complained　Blonsky；　who　had　been
caught　unawares　and　banged　his　head。　But　Steele　and　a　couple　of　the　others　had　felt　that　this　impact
was　different　from　the　first　—　and　his　enhanced　hearing　confirmed　it。
It　wasn’t　the　front　of　the　truck　that　had　hit　something　this　time；　rather　that　something　had　landed
on　its　roof…　something　that　was　moving　about　up　there。　Something　with　a　roaring　chainsword…
The　tip　of　the　sword　came　slicing　through　the　roof　of　the　cab；　above　Grayle’s　head。　He　let　out　a　cry；
and　slid　down　in　his　seat　until　he　could　only　just　see　through　the　windscreen；　barely　see　where　he
was　going。　He　spun　the　wheel　hard　right；　left；　right　again；　and　pumped　the　pedals　furiously。　Beside
him；　Barreski　was　tossed　back　and　forth；　and　Grayle　could　hear　muffled　protests　from　the　rear
compartment。
But　he　could　not　shake　his　unwanted　passenger。
The　Chaos　Space　Marine　clung　on；　and　his　sword　cut　deeper。　It　was　rising　and　falling；　in　a
sawing　motion；　scoring　a　seam　across　the　roof。　Then　the　sword　was　withdrawn；　and　Grayle　saw
gauntleted　fingers　scrabbling　at　that　seam；　widening　it。
Barreski　fired　at　those　fingers　—　he　had　replaced　his　lasgun　with　one　taken　from　a　dead　Traitor
Guardsman　in　the　street　—　and　the　hand　was　withdrawn；　stung。　A　moment　later；　it　returned；　looking
for　and　finding　fresh　purchase。　And　then；　with　a　terrible；　nerve…jangling　wrench；　the　Chaos　Space
Marine　peeled　back　the　roof；　and　Grayle　gaped　up　into　his　leering　face；　could　smell　his　fetid　breath。
“Everybody；　brace　yourselves！”　he　yelled；　and　he　stamped　on　the　brake　pedal。
This　time；　the　Chaos　Space　Marine　was　taken　by　surprise。　He　was　reaching　for　Grayle　when　the
truck　jolted　to　a　halt　and　catapulted　him　forwards。　He　hit　the　windscreen；　shattering　the　plexiglas；
and　then　slid　sideways　across　the　bonnet　and　disappeared　from　sight。　Feverishly；　Grayle　slammed
the　engine　into　reverse。　He　felt　his　front　right　wheel　bouncing　over　an　obstacle　in　the　road　—　the
monster’s　head；　he　hoped；　although　whether　this　was　the　case　or　not　it　seemed　to　make　little
difference。
The　Chaos　Space　Marine　was　already　back　on　his　feet；　his　head　down；　charging　towards　the
retreating　truck　like　an　enraged　bull。　He　looked　a　mess；　his　black　armour　barely　clinging　to　his
battered　body。　His　left　arm　had　been　amputated　at　the　elbow；　presumably　by　the　teeth　of　the　sewer
creature。　One　of　his　eyes　was　missing。　He　had　dropped　his　chainsword；　but　he　was　wielding　his　bolt
pistol。
Grayle　couldn’t　outpace　him；　not　driving　backwards。　He　forced　his　back　wheels　around；　made　to
set　off　along　another　street。　He　was　too　late。　The　Chaos　Space　Marine　had　caught　up　to　them。　He
braced　himself　against　the　bumper　so　that　no　matter　how　hard　the　engine　strained；　or　how　fast　the
wheels　spun；　they　couldn’t　gain　headway　against　him。
And　now　the　Chaos　Space　Marine　stooped；　took　the　truck　by　its　axle；　lifted　it；　one…handed；　and
Barreski　was　banging　on　the　partition；　yelling；　“Everybody　out！”　and　he　and　Grayle　kicked　open
their　doors；　and　leapt　as　the　Chaos　Space　Marine　flexed　a　powerful　shoulder　and　gave　the　truck　one
final　twist…
Blonsky　and　Mikhaelev　had　been　the　nearest　troopers　to　the　back　doors；　and　thus　the　first　two　out　of
them。　Steele　had　made　sure　that　Wollkenden　went　next；　helping　him　along　with　a　push　to　the　back
when　he　had　hesitated。　The　confessor　had　fallen　awkwardly；　landing　face　first　in　the　street；　and
Steele　had　leapt　down　beside　him　and　hoisted　him　to　his　feet。
All　of　which　had　left　Anakora；　Gavotski　and　Palinev　in　the　back　of　the　truck　as　it　was　flipped
over。
111
Anakora　had　been　in　the　doorway；　poised　to　jump；　when　the　world　had　spun　in