"James van Pelt - Parallel Highways" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pelt James Van)

weight at all. If he had to, he could force himself into its spot in the traffic.

Now, horns all around them blared. Traffic in front of them rippled. Tail lights flashed. A pickup that had
been blocking the Volkswagen cut left in front of the semi, and its air horn erupted, but now there was
space to the right.

Sobbing, Jack pulled in front of the Volkswagen, clipping its bumper on the way, and another opening
appeared on his right, which he took.

Two lanes separated them from the trailer-truck, now bombing along as if nothing had happened. Jack
pried a hand loose from the steering wheel and wiped his mouth. His chin was slick.

He checked the mirrors. As far back as he could see, traffic. The highway faded into the blue distance.
Same in front. One more lane over, a cement retainer separated them from the city, a numbing series of
dirty, grey warehouses.

He took deep breaths, letting himself calm down.

"Missed us that time," he said, and he tried to laugh, but it came out tight and fake, like it felt.

Debbie sat up straight, smoothing her skirt over her legs. She looked out the side window, pressing her
hand against it. Long brunette hair with just a hint of a curl at the end brushed her shoulders. Her face
reflected a little in the glass. Deep, brown eyes. No makeup. A serious woman carrying despair in the
lines of her frown.

Beyond, building after shadowless building rolled by. The sun stood exactly overhead, but smog or mist
fuzzed away its outlines, so the sky glared hot, white and without form.

"We should have let that car in," she said.

"Which?" He knew what she was talking about. It was an old argument.

"We shouldn't have been in such a hurry."

Jack checked the mirrors again, then closed the distance between him and the next car to get the guy
following him off his tail.

She said, "I don't recognize anything."

"I know."

"It could be L.A." She looked at him without moving her hand, her eyes so tired that they appeared as if
they'd been punched.

"Or Pompeii."

"That's not funny."

"It's a superhighway from somewhere. Just as well could be Pompeii. Or maybe Rome, just before Nero
burnt the sucker."