"Charles L. Grant - Raven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Charles L)

The wings flapped again, and the bird glided in a lazy arc across the road, into the trees.
"That kid," Brandt whispered behind him, "is richer than God and dumber than shit."
Neil nodded his agreement, laughing, as Havvick jumped to the ground and ran up to the fence, vaulted it with a
one-hand brace and trotted carefully to the opposite shoulder, where he stopped and put his hands on his hips. He
was under the streetlamp, a sparkling pale veil.
"I can't see it," he called.
Brandt groaned.
And Neil said, "Traffic."
"What?"
He slipped his hands into his pockets and swerved around the back of the van, heading for the road. "Traffic," he
said again.
"What about it?"
"There isn't any."
And as far as he knew, there hadn't been all night, except for the one car he had seen earlier, before the Davies clan
arrived. It was Friday. Deerfield proper, such as it was, was only a mile up the road, Hunter not that much farther on,
and between here and the several miles to the county seat in the other direction there were at least four bars that did a
decent weekend business. Two other restaurants. The highway was never bumper-to-bumper, but there should have
been something. He stopped at the fence, looked east and west. Delivery trucks. Big rigs. Kids out for a joyride.
Unless there'd been an accident someplace, there should have been something. The blacktop glittered. Damn, there
should at least have been a sander, the roads were going to be hell in an hour.
"Still can't see it," Havvick yelled, edging closer to the trees.
"Because it's black, you dumb shit," Brandt yelled back.
"Kenneth, get in here!" Trish called from the door. "You're going to catch pneumonia, and I want to go home!"
"Bet you five hundred they're divorced by summer," Brandt said as Havvick surrendered with a wave to the trees,
ran back, vaulted the fence, slid and fell and skidded down to the steps on his rump. "Maybe even by spring."
Neil turned to look at the restaurant, at the people moving around inside. He could see Mandy by the door, hugging
herself, looking out.
Brandt slapped his arm, let's get going, okay?, and trotted away.
Small, Neil thought; in the dark, in the snow, it all looks so damn small.
He pushed away from the fence, suddenly hunched his shoulders and looked up.
The snow falling out of the night, the wind in the woods finally finding its voice, and the inexplicable feeling that
the raven was up there too, just out of sight. Circling. Or watching. It didn't make any difference. It was going on ten
o'clock, and the bird should have been nesting.




In the bar, one of the tables was laden with sandwiches and fruit.
"I heard about the wedding," Willie said nervously, and nervously dried his hands on his apron. "We should have
a party."
Ken applauded his approval.
Trish grabbed his arm, said in a stage whisper, "I don't want a party, Kenny, 1 want to go home. It's snowing." She
whispered something in his ear that made him blush and the others laugh.
Davies took her hand then, bowed over, kissed it, pulled her away and said, "May I have this dance?"
She looked apprehensive.
"I won't eat you," the man said.
Trish said, "Hey, I know you!"
"Then we're friends and we'll have to dance, won't we?"
, She giggled and let him lead her around the floor in time to a violin waltz. "He's on the radio!" she exclaimed as they
spun past Havvick's table. "Every night. I listen to him every night."