"Clayton Emery - Tyger Blake - Totaled" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

......The girlfriend slid out the door and squinted at us with stoplight eyes. Me, a scrambled stranger,
facing off against the butthead confused her. "Let's go, Terry," she sniffed, crying again. She clutched the
boy's hand. He squeezed hard enough to make her squeak, but she didn't pull it back.

......The nurse invited me to leave. I gave her the candy and left.

......Maybe I should have given blood.

***

......In the summer, I drive a 1942 Ford (not Willy's) Jeep. I'm never in a hurry and have no place
important to go, and besides, I work in a garage.

......I rattled down Powder Mill Road. It was shrouded by trees on both sides. There were few houses,
and those set back from the road. Only mailboxes and yellow reflectors and black lanes marked some.

......I found the spot easily. The longest straight stretch. Even by headlights I could see rubber patches
where two cars had blasted off, rubber where they'd shifted to high gear, long wiggly skid marks where
Chuck lost control of the Firebird -- for whatever reason -- and stopped against a maple tree.

......In its time, this monster tree had survived farm-clearing, sugar tapping, barb wire, musket balls, .22s,
snow plows, and car wrecks. It had lost a patch of bark big as a trash can lid. White heartwood
streaked with black and gold showed like meat on a roast chicken.

......"But you'll be all right," I told the tree.

......As I swung by the garage, I heard the dogs yelping. Bruno and Fido spend their nights in the garage
to guard the parts cupboard. Now they signaled like mad.

......A light flickered among the wrecks down by the Firebird.

......I hammered mechanical brakes and coasted well past the gates.

......Holding the chain taut so it wouldn't clank, I popped the lock and snuck into the yard. I padded
through the dark. A hooded light showed at the passenger's side of the Firebird. I hunkered behind the
nose of another wreck and watched.

......The guy doing the searching was very big. I couldn't see his face because the flashlight was shielded
in a meaty hand. He poked and prodded, ripped rubber floor mats, tugged at the blood-soaked seats.

......Mosquitoes chewed my ears, wrists, and ankles. I'd had enough of being bit, and he couldn't find
what he wanted. I stepped within ten feet of the car, wrench in hand. "No luck, hunh?"

......The guy jumped, then aimed the damned flashlight full in my face. Feet thumped. Blinded, I hopped
to one side, but he slammed my shoulder. I spun and went down.

......I rolled, but not fast enough. He kicked me in the side hard enough to stove in ribs. I rolled some
more, got halfway to my feet. Something swished by my head. His sneaker after my skull. He huffed and
growled like a boiler ready to explode. He was mad, out of control.