"Mary Janice Davidson - Betsy 01 - Undead And Unwed" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

Giselle certainly could; the ungrateful little wretch scampered right the hell out of there. Me, I went
flying. The car hit me at forty miles an hour, which was survivable, and knocked me into a tree, which
was not.

I heard things break. I heard my own skull shatterтАФit sounded like someone was chewing ice in my
ear. I felt myself bleed. I felt my bladder let go involuntarily for the first time in twenty-six years. In the
dark, my blood on the snow looked black.
 The last thing I saw was Giselle sitting on my porch, waiting for me to let her in. The last thing I heard
was the driver, screaming for help.

CHAPTER TWO



My next memory was of opening my eyes to pure darkness. When I was a kid I read a short story
about a preacher who went to Hell, and when he got there he discovered the dead didnтАЩt have eyelids,
so they couldnтАЩt close their eyes to block out the horror. Right away I knew I wasnтАЩt in Hell, since I
couldnтАЩt see a thing.

I wriggled experimentally. I was in a small, closed space, which was an intriguing combination of soft
and hard. I was lying on something hard, but the sides of my little cage were padded. If this was a
hospital room, it was the strangest one ever. And where was everybody? I wriggled some more, then
had a brainstorm and sat up. My head banged into something soft/hard, which gave way when I shoved.
Then I was sitting up, blinking in the gloom.

At first I thought I was in a large, industrial kitchen.

Then I realized I was sitting in a coffin. Which had been placed on a large, stainless steel table. Which
meant this wasnтАЩt a kitchen, this wasтАФ

I nearly broke something scrambling out. As it was, I moved too quickly and the coffin and I tumbled
off the table and onto the floor. I felt the shock in my knees as I hit and didnтАЩt care; in a flash I was on my
feet and running.

I burst through the doors and found myself in a large, wood-paneled entryway. It was even gloomier in
here; there were no windows that I could see, just rows and rows of coat racks. At the far end of the
entry was a tall, wild-eyed blonde dressed in an absurd pink suit. She might have been pretty if she
wasnтАЩt wearing orange blusher and too much blue eye shadow. Her brownish-rose lipstick was all wrong
for her face, too. She was so shockingly pale, just about any makeup would have been wrong for her.

She wobbled toward me on cheap shoesтАФPayless, buy one pair get the second at half priceтАФand I
saw her hair was actually quite nice: shoulder-length, with a cute flip at the ends and interesting streaky
highlights.

Interesting Shade #23 Lush Golden Blonde highlights.

The woman in the awful suit was me. The woman in thecheap shoes was me!

I staggered closer to the mirror, wide-eyed. Yes, it was really me, and yes, I looked this awful. Well,
why wouldnтАЩt I? I was dead, wasnтАЩt I? That silly ass in the Pontiac Aztek had killed me, hadnтАЩt he?