"Laymon Richard - No Sanctuary" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laymon Richard)

That had settled it. The thought of Bert going alone was intolerable.

And what was true three weeks ago was still true. Rick was sure
of that. If he backed out, Bert would make the trip alone.

He flinched at the sudden blare of his alarm clock. Reaching
down, he picked up the clock and silenced it. He placed it on the
nightstand. Hard.

Okay. You're going. So relax and enjoy it.

He put on a robe, walked down the hall to the room he thought of
as his 'entertainment center', and stepped behind the wet bar. There,

he made himself a Bloody Mary with a double shot of vodka, light on
the tomato juice, heavy on Worcestershire and tabasco. He twisted a
wedge of lemon over the drink, added ground pepper, and stirred.

It tasted tangy and good. He carried the glass into the bathroom.
After using the toilet, he took a shower. He wanted to linger under
the soothing hot spray. After all, there would be no showers for the
next week.

No soft bed.

No safety of walls and locked doors.

No Bloody Marys.

At least you've packed a fifth of bourbon and a revolver, he
thought. Those'11 help.

Bert'll crap when she finds out.

Tough. Not going into the wilderness without my peacemakers.

Rick turned off the water and climbed out of the tub. He quickly
dried himself. He took a long drink of his Bloody Mary, then rolled
deodorant under his arms. The shower hadn't lasted long enough to
steam up the mirror. He lathered his face and shaved. Though his
hand trembled, he managed not to cut himself.

Back in the bedroom, he tossed his robe aside and stood in front
of the full-length mirror on his closet door to comb his hair. At
least you're in good shape, he consoled himself. You were a wimpy
teenager last time around.

Last time around . . .

His scrotum shriveled tight. In the mirror, he saw his hanging