"Laymon, Richard - Bite" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laymon Richard)

"Barring calamity."
This neighborhood looked like a good place for calamity. Between the streetlights were heavy patches of darkness. Thick, leafy branches loomed overhead, throwing shadows onto the pavement. The houses looked old. Most of them had second stories, and very few windows had lights in them. A few porch lights were on, but not many. Overall, this part of town seemed way too dark.
It reminded me of where I grew up, near Chicago, before my family moved across the country to California -- long before I ever met Cat Lorimer.
It reminded me, especially, of Halloween nights when I was a kid, roaming up and down the dark and windy streets, scared half out of my wits most of the time.
In those days, I'd still believed in many things.
Including the things that go bump in the night.
Such as, among other things, vampires.
Cat said, "Here we are," and swung into a driveway.









3


Like so many old houses in Southern California, this one had a two-car garage in a far corner of the back yard. The headlights lit it up. We didn't go there, though. Cat stopped her car on the driveway while we were still in front of her house.
The dashboard clock read 11:18. It went dark when she shut off the engine.
"Made it with time to spare," she said, and plucked the key out of the ignition. When she opened her door, I opened mine and climbed out.
I waited for her beside the car. She came around the rear, adjusting her robe with one hand. In her other hand were the keys. "This way," she told me.
"My bag," I reminded her.
"Let's leave it in the trunk and get it later," she said. "We don't want to take a chance on Elliot seeing it."
"Fine."
I suddenly wondered why I needed the bag at all. If I was supposed to kill this guy at midnight, couldn't I just go home afterward?
Maybe Cat didn't want to be alone tonight.
Or maybe she planned to reward me.
I intended to comply with her wishes, whatever they might be. Anything to be with her.
We took a concrete walkway. It led from the side of the driveway, across the lawn to the front stoop. A yellow light glowed above the door. Cat hurried up the steps ahead of me. As I followed, she swung open the screen door and stepped past it. It swung back at her. She stopped it with her rump. I pulled it away from her, and she unlocked the main door.
We both went in.
The main door appeared to be solid oak. After shutting it, Cat secured it with a deadbolt.
We turned our backs to the door. We were standing in a foyer with a hardwood floor under our feet and a chandelier overhead. In front of us, a stairway led to the upper floor. A narrow hallway, to the left of the staircase, stretched toward the rear of the house. On both sides of where we stood were entryways, but no lights were on in the rooms beyond them. The only light came from our chandelier. Which was obviously on a dimmer; its bulbs gave off little more light than if they'd been candles.
The house seemed very quiet.
"Any chance he might be here already?" I whispered.
"No chance." She grinned a little. "You don't need to whisper."
"It's so dark in here."
"Let's go upstairs."
She led the way. I stayed a few stairs below her. My eyes were level with her rear end.
"You oughta be carrying a candle," I said. "We could have a scene from _The Old, Dark House_ or something."
"You sound nervous."
"I am nervous."
"Everything'll be fine," she said.
"Only if Elliot's a figment of your imagination."
"That'd let _you_ off the hook, but it'd mean _I'm_ bonkers. Which I'm not," she added.
As we approached the top, I noticed that the stairwell was open along its left side. My head rose above floor level, and I looked out through the uprights of the wooden railing. Dim light came from somewhere. I was able to make out a stretch of carpeted floor alongside the stairwell, and a couple of dark doorways. Twisting my head around, I saw that the light came from a room near the front of the house. Its door stood wide open, letting brightness flood into the hallway.
Cat reached the top. She stepped around the bend in the banister, put a hand on the wooden railing, and looked over her shoulder at me.
"You don't believe in lights?" I asked.