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

bedroom community for Phoenix, some important people had been
angry at the ants for eating their grass and flowers. A company
called Nupoint Chemical was invited out to test some of their
experimental pesticides on the hapless bugs, which prompted them
to form in these large, disgusting balls. Brad had tried once to
step on one, but he only killed half of them and the other half
crawled onto his shoe and up his ankle. Like wasps or bees they
had stingers, and several of them got him before he could brush
them off. His leg was swollen for hours, and he never tried it
again.
He reached the clubhouse and walked into the small coffee
shop, and heard half the conversations come to a sudden halt. He
looked around at the familiar faces and none would make eye
contact. It was because his wife, Janice, was sitting with Dale
McKinney in a booth toward the back. Everyone there knew what was
going on.
Janice, her long blond hair pinned back, was dressed in
shorts and a nice blouse. She had a sharp nose and long eyelashes,
and a solid muscular build. Even though she was aware her husband
was standing several feet away she pointedly ignored him. Dale,
who was a tall, lanky man with a stylish three-day beard, had the
balls to smile and wave. Brad felt himself flush. His face and
neck burned. He walked quickly over to the table, and Dale stood
up and faced him.
"I have nothing to say to you," Brad said, and turned to his
wife.
"I'm the only person you get to talk to," Dale said,
stepping in front of Janice.
Brad lunged, swinging, but the others around them quickly
grabbed the two and pulled them apart. The club manager hurried in
and took Brad by the arm, leading him toward the door. "What are
you doing?" Brad demanded.
"I'm kicking you out."
"You're kicking me out?"
"You have no business coming in here and causing trouble!"
"I'm causing trouble? It's your goddamn golf pro sitting
there with my wife."
"I don't think she's your wife anymore. You should go out
and find another one." The burley old guy pushed him out the door.
"You don't come back until you're calmed down."
Brad cursed at him and then walked angrily away. He couldn't
believe it Ц the club manager was on Dale's side! Like Dale had a
right to anyone's wife, anyone he chose. Brad felt they were all
against him, all of them, everyone who was sitting in the coffee
shop. He wished he had a machine gun. He wished he could mentally
snap like some disgruntled postal worker and step in there and mow
them down. Then he'd cut them up into little pieces, fry them in a
big pan and eat them. Just eat them. Gobble them down like a good
steak, with eggs on the side.
As he walked down the path back toward his house, he heard a