"c232" - читать интересную книгу автора (Burt Andrew - Noontide Night)

5:37 A.M., Tuesday, February 22, 2000
Manukau, New Zealand

Desiree sat paralyzed in the dank basement. The generator drummed loudly behind her. She hardly noticed it. The only thing she noticed was the stone that held her down—the vial and syringe in her jumpsuit pocket. She'd sat for over an hour now. I can do this, she told herself. I'm ready. Then stand up went her internal monologue. Maybe you should check on Jeremy, Desiree, she said, trying to fool herself into standing up. Good try honey, she replied, but you'll just march into that kitchen. And round about she went, going nowhere. Until a voice behind her boomed, "Morning, Matty!" Desiree jumped. Up. Backwards. The chair toppled. "Sorry I've been so late relieving you, but I'm making up for it—" Desiree caught her leg on the chair and sprawled to the floor. Sir Howard's face swam by rapidly as she landed. Or what she hoped was Sir Howard's face, based on Morgan's description. "Whoa, are you okay? You're not Matty!" Sir Howard backed up. He looked at Desiree's nametag that said Matty. "What have you done with Matty?" He looked about and grabbed a meter-long section of pipe. "You goddamned pusillanimous bastard! You can't just put on a uniform and take someone's life like they were nothing! I've had it with the lot of you!" He waved the pipe menacingly. Desiree couldn't get a word in, her shouts unheard over his and the din of the generator. He swung the pipe at her. Desiree backed up. "Wait!" she screamed without effect, "I'm a friend of Matty's!" But Sir Howard continued to advance. "I'm tired of you pissants parading around here. I served in India and Hong Kong after the war, and you people are nothing, nothing like a military organization! You're—" And he pulled up short. Dropped the pipe. Clutched his chest. Collapsed back against the desk, and into a chair. Desiree dashed to the phone and called up to the emergency room, cupping the mouthpiece so they could hear. "Stay back!" Sir Howard croaked. Desiree did. After an eternity the emergency room team arrived, and began working on Sir Howard. Shaking, Desiree slipped out. If he was still in a rage at her it couldn't help for her to stand by watching. From his perspective that would seem gruesome. She wandered absently toward the nursery. Jeremy was back on the ventilator.

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Chapter 23.2

5:37 A.M., Tuesday, February 22, 2000
Manukau, New Zealand

Desiree sat paralyzed in the dank basement. The generator drummed loudly behind her. She hardly noticed it. The only thing she noticed was the stone that held her down—the vial and syringe in her jumpsuit pocket. She'd sat for over an hour now. I can do this, she told herself. I'm ready. Then stand up went her internal monologue. Maybe you should check on Jeremy, Desiree, she said, trying to fool herself into standing up. Good try honey, she replied, but you'll just march into that kitchen. And round about she went, going nowhere. Until a voice behind her boomed, "Morning, Matty!" Desiree jumped. Up. Backwards. The chair toppled. "Sorry I've been so late relieving you, but I'm making up for it—" Desiree caught her leg on the chair and sprawled to the floor. Sir Howard's face swam by rapidly as she landed. Or what she hoped was Sir Howard's face, based on Morgan's description. "Whoa, are you okay? You're not Matty!" Sir Howard backed up. He looked at Desiree's nametag that said Matty. "What have you done with Matty?" He looked about and grabbed a meter-long section of pipe. "You goddamned pusillanimous bastard! You can't just put on a uniform and take someone's life like they were nothing! I've had it with the lot of you!" He waved the pipe menacingly. Desiree couldn't get a word in, her shouts unheard over his and the din of the generator. He swung the pipe at her. Desiree backed up. "Wait!" she screamed without effect, "I'm a friend of Matty's!" But Sir Howard continued to advance. "I'm tired of you pissants parading around here. I served in India and Hong Kong after the war, and you people are nothing, nothing like a military organization! You're—" And he pulled up short. Dropped the pipe. Clutched his chest. Collapsed back against the desk, and into a chair. Desiree dashed to the phone and called up to the emergency room, cupping the mouthpiece so they could hear. "Stay back!" Sir Howard croaked. Desiree did. After an eternity the emergency room team arrived, and began working on Sir Howard. Shaking, Desiree slipped out. If he was still in a rage at her it couldn't help for her to stand by watching. From his perspective that would seem gruesome. She wandered absently toward the nursery. Jeremy was back on the ventilator.


back | next home