"Pike, Christopher - Whisper Of Death.(1991)TXT" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pike Christopher)

CHAPTER I

I sit alone in a dead world. The wind blows hot and
dry, and the dust gathers like particles of memory
waiting to be swept away. I pray for forgetfulness, yet
my memory remains strong, as does the outstretched
arm of the oppressive air. It seems as if the wind has
been there since the beginning of the nightmare.
Sometimes loud and harsh, a thousand sharp needles
scratching at my reddened skin. Sometimes a whisper,
a curious sigh in the black of night, of words more
frightening than pain. I know now the wind has been
speaking to me. Only I couldn't understand because I
was too scared. I am scared now as I write these
words. Still, there is nothing else to do.

I don't know where to start, but there must be a
place. A place of love, of hope. He gave me those
things, and others as well. Yes, I will start with him.

His name was Pepper. That wasn't his real name, of
course. His parents had christened him Paul Pointzel.
He didn't have dark freckles or anything-I don't
know where he got his nickname. But he was Pepper
when I met him, and that's how I think of him. Pepper
and Rox. My name is Roxanne Wells. I'm eighteen, or
rather, I was eighteen. At the moment I'm not going to
get any older. The second hand on my watch will
move forward but won't go anywhere for me. This
moment is all there is.

We met in high school. He was a babe. I don't know
why he asked me out. I wasn't very nice to him. He
was new to the area, but not that new. I'd seen him
around town for a year or so before he made a move
on me. I'd heard good and bad things about him. One
friend said he was just out for sex. Another said he
was a romantic at heart. What the hell, I thought. I
needed sex and romance in my life. Sometimes I
believe I would have taken one without the other.
Even before Pepper cornered me I decided that, if
given the chance, I would let him get to know me.

It was lunchtime at school, a hot early April after-
noon. I was sitting by myself on a rock at the corner of
campus staring out at the desert. It was a favorite spot
for me to hang out and eat junk food. School was in
Salem, Arizona, a town built on sand with a lot of
sweat. I had grown up surrounded by an ocean of dust,
yet the sight of the desert never tired me. I was always