"David,.Peter.-.Howling.Mad" - читать интересную книгу автора (David Peter)

if I had been aware of the various legends, the story of the werewolf would have
held no interest for me."
"Think of it: A human gets bitten by a werewolf, or is born with a particular
birthmark, or eats some wrong kind of plant, or has a curse put on him. Any of
these results in his being transformed into a wolf during the three days each
month of the full moon".
"Big deal,' I would have thought. 'Let them get shot at by hunters, slaughtered
wholesale. Fine by me."
"The odd thing is, nowhere in all those legends does it say what happens if a
wolf gets bitten by a werewolf."
"Werewolf means 'man-wolf.' If you're a man, you become a wolf. If you're a
wolf, wellЕ"
' 'Let me tell you about it.''
1
Byron Keller was a disenchanted American.
He had become disenchanted while crammed into the 5:20 Port Washington train on
the Long Island Railroad, with other commuters mashing his toes and some old
phlegmatic man coughing hoarsely into Byron's face.
Byron had been on his way home to his colorless apartment after spending another
colorless day working as a stockman at Barnes & Noble. His day had ended on a
somewhat down note when his boss chewed him out for lingering too long near the
Travel Section. But Byron had been unable to help himself. The books that had
particularly fascinated him were the ones about Canada, especially the more
remote sections of the country where there were still forests and breathable
air, and everybody knew everybody else.
That sounded simply superb, and it was with great reluctance that he had torn
himself away from lingering in front of them.
Two rows over had been books on the occult and the supernatural. But Byron never
bothered with those titles, which was kind of a shame considering what
eventually happened to him. He might have been better prepared, or at the very
least able to understand.
At any rate, Byron stood on the 5:20 dreaming of better places and better
things, and the 5:20 sat there and sat there until everybody realized that there
was a problem. This realization was belatedly confirmed by the conductor, who
ordered everyone off the train and told them to wait for the 5:54. The 5:54 was
then, of course, twice as crowded as usual, and Byron was not only unable to
board it but didn't get out of the city until well after 7:00. By that time
Byron had decided that enough was enough.
When he got home Byron went straight to, of all things, the nearest bookstore.
It was just closing but, like a man obsessed, he convinced the clerk to keep the
store open long enough for him to buy a book on Canada. After skimming through
it he settled on a small town called McKeeville as being absolutely ideal. A
couple of thousand people lived there (Christ, he thought, I have a couple of
thousand people living in my apartment building,) and yet it was surrounded by
wilderness so unspoiled that wild animals such as deer and wolves roamed free
through it. Byron couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a forest, much less
deer and wolves running around.
So Byron made his preparations (quickly, before he lost his nerve), filled out
all the appropriate paperwork, and moved to McKeeville.
He got a job in the local diner bussing tables. It wasn't much of a job, but