"Lawrence Watt - Evans - The Nightmare People" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

weather. He lay down on the bed, shifted in a vain effort to get comfortable, then closed his eyes.

Sleep came slowly, and reluctantly, and in tiny increments, but at last it did come.
2.
The world sounded wrong when he awoke.

Outside the window traffic growled and murmured and voices flickered in and out of audibility, just as
they always did by day, but something was subtly different, and he knew from the sound that it was not
his usual hour for waking тАФ or if it was, then something was wrong somewhere nearby.

He rolled over, blinking in the bright wash of sunlight, and puzzled out the digits on the clock: 11:23 a.m.
That was later than he had really expected to sleep. He had half expected to awaken at 7:30, as he
usually did, despite having stayed up until after 3:00.

The thought of 3:00 a.m., and the moist heat that still filled the room, reminded him of the apparition he
had seen at the window, and again he shuddered slightly. What on Earth, he asked himself, had brought
on anything like that? How had he come up with such a thing?

He remembered the long silver-grey teeth, pointed needle-sharp, gleaming dully тАФ how truly hideous!
What had he done to dredge up such an image from his subconscious?

And that hat, that great dark slouch hat, the brim turned down on one side, how had he dreamt up
something that was simultaneously as frightening and absurd as that hat?

He shook his head, clearing away the memory of the face, clearing his thoughts of the cobwebs spun
there by the spiders of sleep, readying himself to face the day тАФ or what was left of it, at any rate.

Coffee, he thought. He rose and let himself fall forward in the direction of the kitchen, catching himself
with his feet and transforming the fall into a shambling walk.

The air seemed cooler; he wondered if the little heat wave that had made the last few days so unbearable
was over. The summer, and the spring before it, had been cool and wet, so that when temperatures
finally had reached the nineties the heat had seemed even worse by comparison.

He was halfway down the hall when someone knocked on the door of the apartment.

Cursing, he turned back to the bedroom, snatched his bathrobe from the back of the door, and shuffled
toward the living room.

тАЬPolice!тАЭ someone called, тАЬIs anyone in there?тАЭ

тАЬOh, shit,тАЭ he muttered. тАЬIтАЩm coming!тАЭ he called, pulling on his robe as he crossed the living room. The
cotton clung to the sweat on his back.

He heard voices, but couldnтАЩt make out the words; someone was talking in the hallway. He thought the
tone was one of surprise, maybe fear тАФ that puzzled him.

He stopped and peered through the lens in the door as he knotted the belt.

Two men in police uniforms stood there тАФ and one had his gun out.