"Davis, Jerry - Halloween Ants" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Jerry)

his polished hardwood floor, Brad awoke to the distant sound of
his alarm clock going off upstairs. The coffee was on automatic,
brewing away in the kitchen. The smell made him feel better, and
he got up and walked stiff-legged into the bathroom to take a pee.
He dimly remembered the nightmare, but was able to shrug it off.
Things like that didn't matter much in the daylight.
Brad stepped through his weekend morning routine. Shower,
shave, dress, then retrieve the Saturday paper and scan the
headlines while he sipped his coffee. The house around him was so
quiet. It was their dream house, one that Janice was thrilled
with, that made their relocation from Concord, California much
less traumatic. Brad had been an outstanding supervisor and his
company needed a manager for their new huge shipping depot in
Arizona Ц this was their chance, with his doubled income and
prestigious job, and this new big house that he and Janice were
supposed to fill with children. That didn't happen, and now she
was gone and it was only him, the cat and the dust motes that swam
in the shafts of morning sunlight. The cat didn't like him, and
avoided him at all times unless the food dish was empty. He hadn't
even seen it for the past few days Ц for all he knew Janice had
come and confiscated it.
Opening the paper, Brad found the headlines held bad news.
Two more people were missing. This time it was Bob and Dana
Mueller. Like so many people in this small community, Brad had met
and was familiar with these people. Bob was a big, beefy,
country-western type who worked down at the local hardware store,
and Dana was a little redhead with a big attitude who worked with
some computer firm over in Phoenix. That brought the total to six
missing people in two weeks. The Dickson police were appealing to
the state for help, and even thought the paper didn't say it, it
was obvious the authorities thought it was a serial killer.
Brad put the paper down and finished his coffee. He was
hungry this morning, much more than usual. His stomach felt
hollow, empty, and it was making noises. Normally Janice would be
preparing breakfast. A dark thought crossed him Ц she probably was
making breakfast right at that very moment, five houses down the
street.
He stood, and picking the coffee cup up, he threw it. It
bounced off the wall and the carpet but didn't break. There was no
satisfaction in it. Still feeling dark and hateful, Brad exited
the house through the back door and out the back gate, walking out
onto the golf course path toward the clubhouse.
Along the way he came across several balls of ants. He
kicked at one, and they scattered. They were large, frightening
ants, all black and orange. The locals called them "Halloween
ants." The town's claim to fame was that they'd been overrun by
them. The ants were desert natives, and all the new unnatural
plants Ц the lawns, the trees, the hedges and flowerbeds Ц were a
boon to them. It was all food, more than nature had intended, and
their population had exploded. Being that Dickson was an upscale