У нас вы сможете в любое время суток открыть и прочесть произведение «Thicker Than Water» без единого платежа. На странице представлена не урезанная, а именно целая версия книги — от первой до последней страницы. Если хотите не только читать, но и слушать — пожалуйста, есть аудиоформат. Для тех, кто предпочитает хранить книги у себя на устройстве, работает скачивание через торрент (доступен файл fb2). А если времени в обрез — выручит краткий пересказ содержания. Направление литературы: Легкое чтение, Фэнтези, Городское фэнтези. Там же, ниже по странице, вы найдёте развёрнутую аннотацию, вступление от автора (если оно есть) и настоящие отклики читателей. Наша электронная библиотека живёт и развивается: мы регулярно добавляем новые издания и делаем навигацию удобнее. Всё это превращает наш книжный портал в настоящий дом для тех, кто не представляет жизни без литературы.
Онлайн книга Thicker Than Water

Автор
Читать полностью Thicker Than Water
Текст произведения «Thicker Than Water» удобно распределён по отдельным страницам — так читать гораздо легче. Система автоматически запоминает, где вы остановились, поэтому возвращаться к потерянному абзацу больше не придётся. И всё это совершенно бесплатно. Кроме того, вы вольны сами настроить размер букв и цвет фона — подберите параметры, которые не будут утомлять глаза. Устраивайтесь поудобнее и погружайтесь в любимые истории где угодно: дома на диване, в транспорте или на природе.
Текст книги
The decapitation technique is meant to work well in a dictatorship, where a lack of orders from the top can paralyse a political or military organisation not used to acting on its own initiative. But the rules for a rumble are simple, and these boys had clearly been in a few. They were on me in a second, the lad on my left grabbing me around the throat and the one on my right landing a hard punch on my chin before Johnno had even finished falling to the ground. I got in a couple more punches myself, but it was anybody’s guess where they landed.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Johnno climb to his feet, the lower half of his face masked in blood, like a red bandanna. He stared at me with impossibly wide eyes. At the same time, not breaking that gaze for a moment, he held out his hands, palms up.
But as he stepped in towards me the eager crowd moved, reluctantly, to let someone else squirm through. It was the kid, Bic. He stepped hastily in front of me, blocking his brother’s path.
‘I’ll tell Mum,’ he said.
‘Fuck off, Bic,’ Johnno yelled, brandishing the two knives over his head like a picador.
‘I’ll tell Mum,’ Bic repeated, and collapsed at my feet.
8
As though a voice had yelled ‘Cut!’ from the darkness beyond the street light, everyone instantly lost volition and direction. The hands holding me fell away. Johnno blinked three times, each slower than the last, as he stared down at his brother’s sprawled body. His bloodthirsty cohorts looked at a loss, almost embarrassed, unable even to hold each other’s gaze. I knew how they felt: some tremor had passed over and through us, and this was the pained lull between the quake an Ver’d the aftershock.
I knelt down and lifted Bic up, gently, in my arms.
‘Open the door,’ I said to the nearest bravo, hooking my head to point. He moved to obey, and as I stepped forward the ranks of Johnno’s gang parted. One burly acned teen put his knife-hand behind his back with incongruous shyness, as though he’d been caught flicking ink pellets at school.






