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

pausing in his knife sharpening. Brad edged past him, and passing
the meat section. The butcher followed. Forgetting about food,
Brad decided he'd better get out of there. It was an
eat-or-be-eaten situation and he was outnumbered.
Ahead was a big guy Ц he was huge! Ц who had a demented
expression and appeared to be drooling. He turned his cart so that
he blocked Brad's way, and just stood and stared at him with
bugged-out eyes. His mouth was open and he was biting his tongue.
He grinned at Brad.
Brad made a quick left down the junk food aisle only to find
two women had their carts side by side at the far end, blocking
him in. He continued down the aisle until it was apparent that the
ladies were not going to move. Turning around, Tom found the big
guy and the butcher had him blocked at the other end, and behind
them was the checkout woman.
Brad continued toward the two women at the far end, gaining
speed until he was trotting. Either they were going to move their
carts or he was going to ram them. Their expressions became
alarmed, and they moved to one side but left their carts where
they were. Brad rammed their carts with his, making a loud crash
and sending the carts and the groceries tumbling. The women hissed
and snarled at him as he scrambled past. He leaped over a chain
and past a register, but slipped and landed hard on the worn
linoleum. As he got to his feet, he saw people running toward him.
The manager, the other checkers, the women with the carts. The big
guy. They were coming for him, all with grim faces and a dead-eyed
look, and Brad turned and sprinted for the door, banging into it
and shoving it open. He was out before they could reach him, and
his feet pounded the pavement across the parking lot. The cats, he
saw, were no longer fighting. One was dead and being fed upon by
the other.
Just before he rounded the corner he looked back, seeing a
few of them standing in the parking lot staring back at him, but
none were pursuing. As he passed the gas station and headed down
the street where he lived, his running slowed to a jog and then he
abruptly stopped. He bent forward, hands on trembling knees, and
fought to catch his breath.
As he stood there panting, his thoughts became clear. The
whole town seemed to be going nuts, but how could that be? How
could the town be going crazy? He thought about it, trying to
reason it through. First the dream, and then the insane thoughts.
Then everyone seemed crazy to him Ц predatory Ц as if they were
sharing his sudden cravings for human flesh. Brad decided that at
some point his mind had snapped. The emotional strain of losing
his wife to that bastard, that self-important, smug, swaggering
jerk Е his brain couldn't deal with it, his subconscious rebelling
against his conscious mind, because his conscious refused to allow
himself to commit murder no matter how justified he felt.
Brad straightened and resumed walking up the street, feeling
the insanity, seeing through it like a filter. No one had actually