"Whitley Strieber - Cat Magic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Strieber Whitley)

the cat was going through the back door.

It slipped beneath the back porch as lights pierced the windows of the house and Mandy's feet pounded
down the hall while George Walker screamed and screamed.

Chapter 2
One moment Mandy was asleep, the next she was running down the hall toward George's bedroom. His
screams called her deep instincts, so high they were, so like a panicked baby's. Her first, hideous thought
was of fire.

Then she saw him, crouched in the middle of the bed, his fists clutching his thin hair. Moonlight streamed
over him, making him seem a dangerous shadow. She fumbled for the light switch, found it at last behind
the door, turned it on.

The suffusing yellow light changed him to a crumpled old man. Something obscene and wet and green lay
on the sheet before him. He was screaming at it. She went to him. Another bellow gushed out of him. His
eyes were staring, oblivious to everything except the sticky mass on the bed. Each time he screamed,
flecks of bloody sputum flew from his mouth.

тАЬGeorge!тАЭ

She grasped his shoulders, shook him. He was as rigid as wood. His skin was cold. He shrieked again.

тАЬGeorge!тАЭ

There were a series of broken gasps. Then another shriek, cracking, pitched like the cry of a bird.

тАЬHey!тАЭ She grabbed his cheeks, leaned into his face. His nostrils flared, his lips parted for another
scream. She slapped him hard across the right cheek. The scream shattered, became a sob. She turned
his face and slapped him on the left cheek. тАЬGeorge, wake up! You're dreaming!тАЭ

He raised his hands to ward off her blows. For a moment they remained like that, she holding his chin, he
seeking sanity in her eyes. Then he sank against her, sobbing bitterly. She held his thin frame against her
breast. тАЬGeorge, hush now, it's all right. It's all right.тАЭ

тАЬThe hell it is!тАЭ His voice was hoarse. тАЬLook at that! You know what that is?тАЭ

It was green, blotched with brown, so wet that it had made an irregular damp spot on the sheet. тАЬWhat?тАЭ

тАЬA skin.тАЭ He sighed. тАЬThe skin of a frog. My frog'тАЭ Then he was crying, silently, bitterly, his shoulders
shaking, the tears streaming from his eyes.

He could only be referring to the frogs he used in his lab. But what in the world would one of them be
doing here? She looked at it. Lying there on his bed, in a place so wildly wrong, it made her feel all the
power of the wind that soughed around the house. Her thoughts went to snapping clean sheets and sunny
rooms and she shuddered.

тАЬWhy is it here, George?тАЭ

тАЬIt really isn't very mysterious.тАЭ He cleared his throat. тАЬI need a drink.тАЭ