Читать книгу The Science Fiction Anthology онлайн

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“Be reasonable,” Cable argued. “It’s better than dying, isn’t it?”

“No one’s dying yet,” Drake said. “Just shut up and keep your eyes open.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Cable said. “Dan, let me out.”

“Be sick where you are,” Drake said. “Just keep your eyes open.”

“You can’t give me orders,” Cable said. He started toward the door. Then he jumped back.

A yellowish scorpion had crept under the inch of clearance between the door and the floor. Recetich stamped on it, smashing it to pulp under his heavy boots. Then he whirled, swinging at three hornets which had come at him through the boarded windows.

“Forget the hornets!” Drake shouted. “Keep watching the ground!”

There was movement on the floor. Several hairy spiders crawled out of the shadows. Drake and Recetich beat at them with rifle butts. Byrnes saw something crawling under the door. It looked like some kind of huge flat centipede. He stamped at it, missed, and the centipede was on his boot, past it, on the flesh of his leg. He screamed; it felt like a ribbon of molten metal. He was able to smash it flat before he passed out.