"Jerry Davis - Halloween Ants (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Jerry)file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Jerry%20Davis%20-%20Halloween%20Ants.txt
Halloween Ants ┬й 1999 by Jerry J. Davis Brad Anderson awoke suddenly, sitting straight up in bed and staring forward into the dark with wide, horrified eyes. He'd dreamed that he'd killed and eaten his wife. Throwing the sheet off, he stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the light and looking at his pale, shaken face. What is wrong with me? he wondered. He stared into his own eyes through the mirror, searching for some sort of answer. Instead of seeing himself he was reliving the horrible dream, seeing the shock and dumb terror on his wife's face as he plunged the knife in, cutting her flesh like he would a deer or some poor farm animal, feeling a dark hunger as he bit into it like a rabid carnivore. She screamed and screamed as he ate, dying a little bit at a time. The sound of her screaming still seemed to ring in his ears. His heart was hammering in his chest, and there was sweat beaded up all over his forehead. For God's sake, he thought, what is the meaning of this dream? Brad splashed water in his face, dried with a towel, and paused to give himself a once-over in the eyes тАУ then walked back into the bedroom, turning on the light and looking at the bed. The bed was empty, his wife gone. He stared at it, trying to sort out his thoughts. It must be anger. He did feel anger, a lot of it тАУ that and shock. Shock that it happened. Shock at the nerve of Dale McKinney, who lured her away. Shock that she'd fallen for such a phony, a sleaze. Brad turned off the light and тАУ against his will тАУ he walked across the room to the north window and pulled the curtains aside. Dale lived five houses down and on the other side of the street. The windows were dark. His wife, presumably, inside. Sometimes he wished he had the nerve to borrow one of Randy's hunting rifles, the kind with the big fat 'scope, and just pick the jackass off as he walked by a window. Or тАУ better yet тАУ out at the golf course while Dale was giving lessons. Blam! Right through the chest. He could deal with his anger towards Dale. It was an easy emotion to understand, especially considering the situation. But the dream about his wife тАУ it disturbed him. It made him wonder about his mental health. Brad rolled back onto bed but was not able to sleep. He shifted from his right to left side and back, over and over every few minutes. Finally he gave up, and went downstairs to the living room and turned on the television. A John Wayne movie was on one of the cable channels, and he sat and stared at the images and sounds, letting the television turn off his mind and the ugly |
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