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

direction. He had no destination in mind. Not wanting to go home,
and unable to go to the clubhouse, Brad roamed the golf course at
random and tried to ignore his empty stomach. Maybe, he thought, I
should have brought my clubs. He watched other golfers as they
drove and putted. One particular couple caught his attention Ц a
slightly overweight blond woman and her husband, people he'd met
but forgotten their names. They looked to be in their late
thirties, and healthy. The woman looked good. She was wearing
shorts and a half-shirt, and he could see her belly button. She
had some meat on her, and a little padding Ц not much, really Ц
and nice, full breasts. Watching her, his mouth began to water.
His stomach growled.
They drove their balls down the fairway and then took their
clubs and walked. Brad followed, keeping to the side by the trees.
They noticed him following, and kept glancing back at him
nervously. Brad thought about approaching them, maybe asking to
see an interesting club. He could use it on their heads, and once
down, pull her half shirt up andЧ
Brad realized what he was thinking, and he turned away in
horror. But he was so hungry. She looked so good! He could imagine
biting down hard, then pull away, ripping the flesh. It would be
so hot and succulent in his mouth, so alive, so Е Brad looked down
at his hands, which were shaking. He made fists of them and put
them to his face, pressing hard. His hunger was a knot in his
midsection that was twisting tighter.
He turned back toward the couple, who was openly staring at
him now. He started toward them and he saw the woman back away.
The man looked startled, and he fumbled in his golf bag, reaching
deep, and yanked out a large black pistol. Brad paused,
hesitating. The man pointed the gun at him and fired. Brad turned
around and ran, and the man kept firing.
Brad heard the bullets Ц they made whistling sounds as they
passed him. When they hit the trees they made a sound that was a
cross between a whack and a sharp crunch and bark would fly off.
He ran blindly, leaping over fallen limbs and punching his way
through underbrush. He broke out into another fairway and kept
running, continuing on far after the gunshots had stopped.
At the end of the fairway was the south boundary of the golf
course. Brad stopped his running, and chanced a look back. People
were scattered all over the place, standing still with clubs in
their hands, and they were all staring at him. Just standing and
staring. Then the man with the gun broke through the underbrush
and out onto the grass. He began firing the gun again, but not at
Brad Ц he was firing at people at random. They scattered, running
in every direction, and the man with the gun picked the people he
was closest to and chased them. More gunshots sounded.
Brad took the main road and walked quickly away from the
golf course. A few blocks down was Dickson's only shopping center,
with a post office, a grocery store, a salon and a gas station.
There had been a bookstore but it had closed down, as no one