"Bracken, Michael - Sharing" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bracken Michael)

Billy stepped away and grabbed his hunting rifle. He pulled the bolt back and slammed a cartridge into place. "You better beg now. You ain't going to get a second chance."
The blonde's voice cracked, but she began to beg.
"That's more like it," Billy interrupted her as he returned the rifle to the ground beside Jessie. "Keep begging." He glanced over his shoulder. "See, Jessie, I told you she'd be beggin' for it."
Then Billy pushed the blonde over on her back, half on the beach towel, half on the damp grass. He knelt between her legs.
Billy ran his hands across the blonde's stomach, her abdomen, then up her rib cage to her breasts. His thumbs stroked her stiff nipples. She squirmed under him.
"That's enough of that," Billy said. He pinned her wrists to the ground, then pressed his mouth against hers, forcing his tongue between her teeth.
He released one of her wrists and reached down between them. He forced her thighs apart.
"You're gonna like this," he said. Then he moved up and onto her and into her. He pulled back and pushed forward, straining against her, again, and again, and again, until suddenly he cried out. He lay still for a moment, breathing heavily, and then he rolled off of the blonde.
Jessie stood over them, his rifle still cradled in his thick arms, watching wordlessly, his thoughts returning to Vietnam and all the things he'd done because Billy had insisted.
The blonde found the bile in her throat and spit in Billy's face. Billy wiped it off with the back of his left hand and slapped her again with his right.
The blonde raked her clawed hand across his cheek. Skin and hair peeled off under her sharp nails and Billy reeled backward from the unexpected blow. Blood trickled between his fingers as he reached up to touch the four long, thin wounds.
He screamed at her, his voice echoing faintly across the lake. "You're never leaving this mountain." He scrambled away and turned to Jessie. "Shoot her," he demanded. "She's going to leave here and tell the whole world what you tried to do."
Jessie stood with his rifle in his meaty hands, a silent mountain of a man. His eyelids narrowed to slits as he considered what had happened and what Billy was telling him.
The blonde tried to slowly back away, fear glazing her pale blue eyes.
"Shoot her and get it over with, Jessie," Billy demanded. "We're done with her. Shoot her quick and we'll dump her body in the lake so nobody'll ever find out it was us."
Jessie unsnapped the safety on his rifle, aimed the barrel at the blonde, and considered. A single bullet sat in the chamber, waiting.
Jessie said slowly, the words coming as hard as the thoughts behind them, "I shared a lot with you Billy. And sometimes I done wrong 'cause I shared." He still had nightmares about the time he'd shot a shoeshine boy because Billy had told him the boy was a Viet Cong come to slit his throat. He would wake in a cold sweat, the expression on the boy's face etched in his mind, the sound of Billy's laughter echoing in his ears.
Billy looked at him wildly, not comprehending what his big friend was saying. "Shoot her, damn it," he screamed at Jessie. "You done everything I ever told you to do. What are you waiting for?"
Jessie knew Billy was right. He had followed the weasel-faced Ridgerunner through the rice paddies of 'Nam and he'd come back to the mountain when it was over because of Billy. But he wasn't in 'Nam anymore. He was home now--home on the mountain where he understood how things were supposed to be.
"Damn it, you ape, shoot!"
Jessie swung the rifle a few degrees to the right and pulled the trigger. The butt of the rifle slammed into his shoulder as the hammer snapped down. The bullet entered Billy's hairless chest just above his heart and blew away the back of his rib cage as it came hurling out the other side. Blood and shards of bone splattered the blonde's chest and Billy's dead body jerked with spasms as it fell to the carpet of grass.
Jessie lowered the rifle and looked at the frightened blonde. She shivered despite the heat.
"You better wash up," Jessie told her as he laid the rifle aside. He kicked her clothes and her backpack across the grass toward her. "I'm done sharing with Billy."
The End

Michael Bracken is the author of All White Girls, Bad Girls, Deadly Campaign, Even Roses Bleed, In the Town of Dreams Unborn and Memories Dying, Just in Time for Love, Tequila Sunrise, Psi Cops, and more than 700 shorter works.