"Laymon, Richard - The Traveling Vampire Show" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laymon Richard)

We couldn't get into it, that was for sure (we'd tried on other
occasions), but its roof must've been about eight feet off the ground.
Up there, we'd be safe from the dog.

"feel like climbing?" Slim asked. She must've been thinking the same
as me.

"The snack stand?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"How?" asked Rusty.

Slim and I glanced at each other. We could scurry up a wall of the
shack and make it to the roof easily enough. We were fairly quick and
agile and strong.

But not Rusty.

"Any ideas?" I asked Slim.

She shook her head and shrugged.

Suddenly, the dog lurched ahead of us, swung around and planted its
feet. It lowered its head. Growling, it bared its upper teeth and
drooled. It had a bulging, crazed left eye. And a black, gooey hole
where its right eye should've been.

"Oh, shit," Rusty muttered. "We're screwed."

"Take it easy," Slim said. Her voice sounded calm. I didn't know
whether she was talking to Rusty or the dog. Or maybe to both of them.
"We're dead," Rusty said.

Glancing at him, Slim asked, "Have you got anything to feed it?" "Like
what?" "Food?"

He shook his head very slightly. A drop of sweat fell off the tip of
his nose.

"Nothing?" Slim asked.

"You've always got food," I told him.

"Do not."

"Are you sure?" Slim asked.

"I ate it back in the woods."