"Charles L. Grant - Oxrun Station 03 - The Hour Of The Oxrun Dead" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Charles L)

 WHEN EVIL INVADES


The front door shattered inward. Her mouth opened for a scream, but there was no sound. Shards of
glass tumbled end over end across the carpeting, tinkled on the tables like wind chimes. She tried to duck
away from the knifelike mis-siles, but they struck her mercilessly, and still the glass rained in from the
door.

And there was no wind.

Finally, the scream found its way out, and she pressed her bleeding hands to her face to pro-tect her
eyes. She tripped and nearly lost con-sciousness when her hands struck the floor and drove the glass
deeper into her skin.

She was going to bleed to death. She was going to die slowly under a shroud of drifting pink....
 Chapter 1
The WANING moon spread a worn blanket of pale silver across the center of the room's darkness. It
was an impersonal glow that bleached the lines from Natalie's face and replaced them with grey
shadows, creating pits and hollows to give her the look of a freshly unearthed skull.
Her quilt, its rills deepened to indigo, had bunched at her neck, and its faded satin edging pushed up
over her chin. She shiv-ered once, and her legs grew taut, relaxed, and her knees inched slowly toward
her chest. Suddenly she jerked them straight and twisted sharply on her side. A hand shoved the quilt
impatiently to her waist, then pressed itself against her ear as if the thin fingers could filter the voices out
of the silent room.




One Alpha, this is Control, over. One Al-pha, this is Control.
Control, One Alpha here. What have you got for me now, Sammy? A robbery of the Park Street
Bank, I hope.
Don't you wish, Dick Tracy. No, I got a call here from a Mrs. Leonard Jamieson at 1176 High Street.
She says there's a prowler in her back yard.
What? At four in the morning? What's she been drinking, for crying out loud? And for how long?
BenтАФ
And what in heaven's name is she doing up so late? Doesn't she know what time it is?
BenтАФ
For crying out loud, Sammy!
Ben, all I do is get them and call them. I don't run a contest for their originality or time telling.
All right, Sammy, all right. I'm on my way. And thanks for tagging me. We cer-tainly wouldn't want to
wake the others, would we?
Roger, One Alpha, and call on your arrival.
Roger, Control.
And keep your comments to yourself.




Natalie thrust the hand away from her head and groped blindly for the quilt. Failing to find it, she drew
up one leg, kicked and pushed the tufted wool onto the bare floor.