"Laymon, Richard - Island" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laymon Richard)

Connie groaned like it was a chore, but she followed orders. While she was on her way to where Thelma and Kimberly were sleeping, I got to my feet. I checked on Billie. She was sitting up and rubbing her eyes. One of her elbows was in the way, so I couldn't see much of her bikini top.
I turned my attention to the others. Connie nudged Thelma with her foot and said, "Guys, wake up."
Thelma, flat on her back, blinked up at her and scowled.
Kimberly was covered to the shoulders by a blue blanket. (It wasn't the good one that we'd brought with us to spread on the beach for our picnic. Andrew and Billie claimed that one.) Kimberly's blanket had been retrieved from the inlet. A survivor of the boat explosion, it was missing a corner, had a rip down one side and a bunch of burn holes with dark, chaired edges. I could see her skin through some of the holes.
She didn't move when Connie said, "Guys, wake up." Then came, "Keith's disappeared."
Kimberly threw the blanket aside and sat up fast. Frowning, she swung her head from side to side as she got to her feet. She was still in her white bikini. She looked terrific. She also looked worried.
Andrew and Billie were already striding toward her. (Billie had straightened her bikini top so nothing showed that wasn't supposed to.)
Kimberly said, "Dad, what's going on? Where's Keith?"
"We don't know, honey. He was supposed to wake up Rupert at four, but he didn't. From the look of things, he's been gone a long time."
Kimberly suddenly shouted "Keith!" toward the jungle. She got no answer, so she cupped her hands to the sides of her mouth and belted out, "KEITH!"
Then we all started yelling his name.
We even tried calling out in unison. That was Billie's idea. She counted to three, and we all yelled "KEITH!" at once.
Then we waited, but no reply came.
"Do you have any idea where he might've gone?" Andrew asked Kimberly.
"No. Are you kidding? He wouldn't go anywhere, not when he's supposed to be keeping watch. Not Keith. Except maybe for five minutes, if he had to go to the john. He wouldn't take off for _hours_. No way!"
I'd never seen her this upset. She wasn't hysterical, though. She didn't cry, but her voice sounded tight and she had a frantic look in her eyes like she wanted to scream for help.
"Something's happened to him," she said. "He's had an accident, or . . ." She shook her head. "We've gotta go and find him."
We might've started a general discussion about the various possibilities, but Kimberly didn't hang around. She picked up her shoes and started running toward the jungle.
"Kim!" Andrew yelled. "Wait for us."
Still running, she glanced back over her shoulder.
"Stop!" he ordered.
She quit running, turned around, and walked backward toward the jungle.
"Somebody should stay here," I suggested. "You know, in case Keith shows up. If he comes back and everyone's gone . . ."
"Good idea," Andrew said. "You wanta stay?"
"No, but . . ."
"I'll stay," Connie volunteered.
"I don't want you here by yourself," her dad said.
"Rupert'll stay with me."
"I want to help search for Keith," I said.
The skipper pointed at me. "Stay with her." He dug into his pocket, came up with the lighter, and tossed it to me. "Get the fire going, Rupe."
"Aye-aye, sir."
Andrew, Billie and Thelma spent a couple of minutes picking up odds and ends such as shoes, hats, and sunglasses. Then they hurried to catch up with Kimberly.
Before long, they vanished into the jungle. Connie and I stood by ourselves on the sand.
"He'll turn up," Connie said.
"I hope so."
She frowned the way she does when she wants you to know she's concentrating hard. "What do you think happened to him?"
"He went out in the jungle to take a dump last night, and the local headhunters nailed his ass."
"Ha ha ha. Very funny. You're sick if you think that's funny."
"Maybe not headhunters," I said.
"I should think not."
"Maybe a snake got him. I bet something did. Might've been one of those giant spiders I heard about -- they're indigenous to these islands. They have this special venom that turns your blood to acid so you burn up from the inside out."
"Yeah, right."
"Really."
"Get fucked," she told me, then spun around and walked off toward the water.
"By you?" I asked.
"In your dreams," she said, not even glancing back.
Not in _my_ dreams, I thought. I didn't say it, though. I'd already said enough, pretty much.
She went in for a swim, so I built a new fire in the ashes of the old one. When the fire was going good, I fetched my pen and journal and got to work.