"Davis, Jerry - Halloween Ants" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Jerry) seemed to read anymore. Brad made his way to the phone booth at
the gas station and called 911. He was still panting from his run. Gunshots were still booming through the air from the golf course. A tone sounded in his ear. The telephone said, "All circuits are busy. Please try your call again later." Exasperated, Brad dialed again and got the same response. The gas station attendant stepped out and looked down the street toward the golf course. She was a short, slight woman with a squinty look in her eyes. "What's goin' on down there?" she said. "Some maniac shooting the golf course up," Brad said. His third try on the phone failed and he gave up. "Who is it?" the attendant asked. "Don't know his name, but he's from around here." Brad looked at her, and she looked good. His mouth began to water, but he caught himself and turned away. "I can't get a hold of the police." She didn't answer Ц she went trotting off toward the golf course. He watched her go, eyeing her thighs in her tight jeans. His mouth wouldn't stop watering. He abandoned the phone booth, taking several steps after her, but he heard another gunshot and stopped. Turning around, he saw two cats racing across the parking lot, and one caught the other one and it erupted in a fight. Beyond the fighting cats was the grocery store. He walked toward it, feeling desperate, hoping to God that these insane impulses would go away. He had to walk around the cat fight. It was vicious; one had the other by the throat, and they were rending each other with their hind claws. There were little droplets of blood all over the pavement. He hardly even glanced at them, as his main purpose in life at that point was to get though those doors and find some food. Inside the store it was quiet. There were several customers in the store, along with the employees and the management. He caught eye contact with one of the cashiers, a tall buxom brunette with big hair, and she didn't look away. She didn't say anything, either, just stared at him with glassy eyes and no expression. She didn't look good to him, but he had the impression that he looked good to her. As he took a cart and walked down an aisle she silently abandoned her register and stalked him. Brad passed a man with an empty grocery cart whom stood motionless, moving only his eyes. His hands had a death's grip on the cart handle, his whole body tense. Brad watched him warily as he passed, feeling the man was ready to pounce. The man's gaze shifted from Brad to the checkout woman and back, keeping perfectly still, acting like he was camouflaged and that no one could see him as long as he didn't move. Brad made it around a corner only to be faced by the butcher, who stood on the outside of his counter and sharpened a huge knife. He looked up at Brad and locked eyes with him, never |
|
|