"Jerry Davis - Halloween Ants (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Jerry)

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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
mirror тАУ short blond hair, trim mustache, sloping shoulders, baggy
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