Highway of Eternity by Simak Clifford D

Author:Simak, Clifford D. [Simak, Clifford D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fantasy
ISBN: 9781504024112
Goodreads: 27247945
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi Fantasy
Published: 1986-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

9

Boone

A cold nose woke Boone, and he tried to jerk himself erect. His leg screamed at him, and he choked back the answering scream deep inside his throat. The wolf, whining, sidled away. All around the southern horizon, the stars glittered coldly at him. His clothes were damp with the chill of frosty dew.

From where he lay he looked over the moon-silvered plain that he had crossed, more desert than plain, although there was some grass and other pasturage for small game herds. Somewhere, perhaps to the east, there would be grassy plains where enormous herds would range. But here the herds were small and the predators few.

“You’re out of place,” he told the wolf. “You could find better eating elsewhere.”

The wolf glared at him and snarled.

“That’s no way to carry on a conversation,” Boone told it. “I do not snarl. I’ve never snarled at you. We have traveled together and fed together and the two of us are friends.”

He had been holding himself propped up on his arms, but now he relaxed and eased himself to the ground, turning his head so that he could watch the wolf—not that he feared the wolf, he told himself; it was simply the inclination to maintain touch with the only companion that he had.

He had been asleep and how could he have slept under such conditions—his leg trapped in a rocky crevice and a watching wolf that waited for him to die so that it might feed? Yet, he thought, he might be maligning the wolf, for they were friends.

His leg hurt, no longer a scream, but a dull, tooth-gritting ache. He felt like hell—his leg hurt, his gut was empty, his throat burned, and his mouth was dry. He needed water badly. Somewhere, not too distant, he was certain that he heard the sound of running water.

The wolf had sat down, its bushy tail wrapped neatly about its feet, its head canted to one side, and its ears tipped forward.

Boone closed his eyes. He let his head settle more firmly against the ground. He tried to close out the pain. Except for the sound of running water, all was silent. He tried to close his ears against the sound of the water.

What a hell of a way to end, he thought. Briefly, he dozed.

And snapped back to awareness.

He was on his knees, no weapon in his hand and none to reach for. Tearing down upon him was the mounted horseman that came deep out of his memory, a giant of a man astride a small but wiry horse. The horse, its teeth bared, was as purposeful and grim as the man who rode it.

The horseman’s mouth was open in a scream of triumph, his teeth flashing in the firelight that seemed to appear from nowhere. His great mustaches streamed back in the wind of his rush, and the gleaming, heavy sword high above his head was beginning to come down.

Then the wolf was there, rising in a leap, foam-flecked jaws agape, aimed for the horseman’s throat.

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