"Murphy, Pat - Departure" - читать интересную книгу автора (Murphy Pat)

the motion of the train.

The train pulled into a station. The doors opened and closed. The train was
pulling out when she saw a poster on the station wall. "MARK OF THE WOLF," it
said, but the words flashed past the train and were gone before she could read
more.

She pressed her face to the glass, but saw only darkness. Beyond the glass, she
thought, there is no world. Just darkness. She could imagine any world she chose
-- any world. She closed her eyes and thought about the world she would create.
In the darkness of her mind, wolves ran through the darkened tunnel, keeping
pace with the train.

She opened her eyes as the train slowed for the next station. Lights appeared
outside the window, creating a new world of glistening tile and advertisements.
She did not see any posters that said "MARK OF THE WOLF," but she got off the
train and caught an uptown train to the station she had passed.

She could not find the poster though she walked up and down the empty platform,
staring at each advertisement. After the train pulled out, the only sound in the
station was the tapping of her footsteps. The tunnels stretched away into the
darkness. Anything could hide there.

She felt her heart beating quickly, but she could not tell whether it was from
fear or excitement. When she closed her eyes, she could feel the air pressing
close around her, warm and filled with unidentifiable smells. She lingered in
the shadows at the far end of the platform, staring into the tunnel and
breathing in the aroma of the darkness. She found herself listening, straining
her ears to hear something. She did not know what she was listening for. From
the direction of the turnstile, she heard footsteps, and she glanced back toward
the brightly lit section of the platform.

The colors were gone from the advertisements, the benches, the graffiti on the
walls. The scene was painted in black and white and shades of gray. She blinked,
wondering if this were some trick of the light.

"Hey, lady," called the guard. He stood under the light, his feet set slightly
apart, his head tilted at an aggressive angle. "What're you doing there?"

"Waiting" she said, not moving from the shadows.

"No sleeping on the platform," he said. "None of that here."

She watched him. His face was shiny with sweat and she could smell his fear.
"Who comes out at night?" she asked him.

"What?"

"Who comes out at night?"