Children of the Gates Read Online Free PDF Page A

licking her face, or as much of it as his tongue could reach.
    “Let’s get going.” Nick’s tone was rough. They must get away—out into the open, if they could find any open.
    The compass did bring them out a few minutes later into a space where the giant trees ceased and brush took their places. They pushed through the thinnest section of this and came to an expanse of tall grass, which in turn gave way to reeds bordering the lake—or a lake.
    Along the shoreline, they could see no cabins, though by now Nick had ceased to hope to find those, or any sign that their own species had ever been there. Wading through the shallows were several herons that paid no attention to the newcomers. And in a rough pasture farther to the south animals were grazing. They were so light of hide Nick wondered if they had chanced upon a small herd of unicorns. Then one raised its head and showed branched antlers. But who had ever heard of silver-gray deer?
    “There’re no cabins—” Linda loosed her hold on the bike, let her duffel bag thump to the ground. “Nick, what are we going to do?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know.” He was no superman, no use in her turning to him as if he could get them out of this by flexing his muscles or something like that. “If you want to know the truth, I’m hungry. We might as well eat.”
    By the angle of the sun it must be close to noon. And he was hungry. It appeared that even a jump across time (if that was what had really happened to them) was not enough to subdue one’s appetite.
    “Hungry!” Linda repeated. Then she laughed, even if it was a small and difficult sound. “Why, I guess I am, too.”
    The grazing deer paid no attention to them. And, here in the open, nothing could sneak up on them without attracting attention. Linda moved on to a place where the grass did not appear as tall.
    “Here’s a good place.” She beckoned as if this were an ordinary picnic. But Nick thought now about food. Not of how hungry he was, but of the meagerness of the rations they carried.
    He had been depending on the store of canned goods at the cabin, and all else he had was what he had picked up at the store. That would not last long. Then they would have to live off the country. But what if they could not?
    Even in the countryside of his own world he did not know much about what could be eaten in the way of berries (if any could be found) or other growing things, except those from gardens. There were survival books supposed to explain just how you could live off the wild, but such knowledge had never appealed to him and he had never read one. No, they would have to go light on their provisions. Back in the jeep—if they could find their way back—were the two melons and all those cases of drinks. But that was not much.
    He squatted down on his heels, facing Linda who had settled cross-legged in the grass.
    “Listen—about food—I don’t have much. You have anything in that?” He pointed to her bag.
    “You mean—” He could see from the expression on her face that she understood. Then she went on, steadily enough. “You mean we might not be able to find anything to eat here?”
    “Well, there might be fish in the lake. And there are blackberries—at least there were blackberries near our cabin. But this isn’t our lake. We had better go easy with what we have until we know the score.”
    Linda pulled at the knotted drawstring of the duffel bag. “I don’t have much, but I was taking two boxes of peanut brittle up to Jane, and a tin of English toffee—Jane loves peanut brittle and Ron has this thing about toffee—the rum-flavored kind. There’re the melons and all that Coke and stuff back in the jeep. But it’s heavy to carry. I don’t think we can pack it along with us. Nick, where will we go? There’re no houses here, and beyond there”—she pointed to the far side of the lake—“it looks like more woods.”
    She was right. There was a dark rise of trees over there,