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

chased him at the store. They may have been staring at him, but it
was probably because he was acting so crazy. It's me, he thought.
It's all me. It's in my head. I probably scared the shit out of
that poor guy and his wife. He was firing at me in self-defense.
Even now, looking around the sunny neighborhood around him,
things looked strange. He felt like he was viewing the world
through glasses that were the wrong prescription Ц angles were
distorted, and people's faces Ц their expressions Ц he perceived
them wrong. A mother and her children washing their car peered at
him through beady, hostile eyes. The little girl, staring at him,
licked her lips. An old man with his small white dog on a leash
smiled as Brad passed, and the smile was full of menace. This
isn't real, Brad told himself. It can't be. But his knowing this
didn't change what he saw. Knowing he was sick didn't cure him.
Brad picked up his pace. He had to get to a phone and call
the police, have himself put away. He wanted them to put him in a
place where he could get well again. I can get better, he told
himself. I can start over again.
A few yards away from his house he came across three large
brown birds, cactus wrens with long sharp beaks, and they were in
a little group on the grass picking at another of their kind. The
other bird lay on its back, wings spread, legs still twitching.
They were eating it alive.
He stared at it a few moments. This can't be happening, he
thought. I'm hallucinating. Birds don't eat each other, do they?
He watched them pulling out organs and ripping off shreds of
feather-covered flesh. The birds glanced at him warily, but stood
their ground. Brad felt the hollowness in his own stomach, felt
his need to eat. The birds were acting so wrong, he decided it had
to be a hallucination.
If I'm so crazy I'm seeing things that aren't really there,
he thought, then I'm crazy enough to do anything. He looked over
at Dale's house, and felt the full weight of his stockpile of
hatred and anger. There are dozens of witnesses who'll testify how
crazy I've been acting. Even Janice would agree to that in front
of a jury.
Brad passed his house, continuing down to Dale's. He
approached the front door, stepping over a pair of lizards that
were biting each other, rolling around in a quick frenzy of
battle. Turning the knob, he found it unlocked. They were already
home from the clubhouse. Brad entered and softly closed the door
behind him. He heard sounds, but no voices. It came from somewhere
in the house, probably down the hall. Brad crossed quickly to the
kitchen, his heart thudding in his ears, and found a wooden knife
holder. He chose the long, thin, serrated bread knife. He always
thought they looked dangerous, and now he was counting on it.
Brad crept down the hallways, his feet silent on the thick
tan carpet. The sounds were strange, like slurping, and through a
bedroom door he saw feet hanging over the edge of a bed. His face
burned, realizing they were having sex. His hands were sweating,