"Энди Макнаб. Удаленный контроль (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автораthat by the end of the day I'd be more exhausted than the kids. I got to the
driveway and turned in. There was nobody waiting. The houses were quite a distance apart, so I didn't see any neighbors, either, but I wasn't surprised D.C."s bedroom suburbs were quite dead during weekdays. I braced myself; on past form, I'd get ambushed as soon as the car pulled up. The kids would jump out at me, with Marsha and Kev close behind. I always made it look as if I didn't like it, but actually I did. The kids would know I had presents. I'd bought a little Tweety-Pie watch for Aida, and Kelly's was the Goosebumps kids' horror books numbers thirty-one to forty I knew she already had the first thirty. I wouldn't say anything to Aida about forgetting her birthday; hopefully she'd have forgotten. I got out of the car and walked toward the front door. Still no ambush. So far, so good. The front door was open about two inches. I thought, Here we go, what they want me to do is walk into the hallway like Inspector Clouseau, and there's going to be a Kato-type am bush. I pushed the door wide open and called out, "Hello? Hello? Anyone home?" Any minute now the kids would be attacking a leg each. But nothing happened. Maybe they had a new plan and were all hidden away somewhere in the house, waiting, trying to muffle their giggles. Inside the front door there was a little corridor that opened up into a rooms. In the kitchen to my right I heard the sound of a female voice singing a station jingle. Still no kids. I started tiptoeing toward the noise in the kitchen. In a loud stage whisper! said, "Well, well, well I'll have to leave ... seeing as nobody's here ... What a shame, because I've got two presents for two little girls..." To my left was the door to the living room, open about a foot or so. I didn't look in as I walked past, but I saw something in my peripheral vision that at first didn't register. Or maybe it did; maybe my brain processed the information and rejected it as too horrible to be true. It took a second for it to sink in, and when it did my whole body stiffened. I turned my head slowly, trying to make sense of what was in front of me. It was Kev. He was lying on his side on the floor, and his head had been battered to shit by a baseball bat. I knew that, because I could see it on the floor beside him. It was one he'd shown off to me on his last visit, a nice light aluminum one. He'd shaken his head and laughed when he said the local rednecks called them Alabama lie detectors. I was still rooted to the spot. I thought: Fucking hell, he's dead-or should be, looking at the state of him. What about Marsha and the kids? |
|
|