"Laymon, Richard - The Traveling Vampire Show" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laymon Richard)some cigarette butts, leaves and twigs that must've blown over from the
woods, a pack of Lucky Strikes that was filthy and mashed flat, a few beer cans smashed as flat as the cigarette pack, a headless snake acrawl with ants, someone's old sock ... a lot of stuff, but nothing much good for a weapon. Slim, still squatting with her hands out and speaking in the same quiet sing-song, said "You're a nice doggie, aren't you? Why don't you guys see if you can climb the nice snack stand, huh, doggie? Yeahhh. That's a good doggie. Maybe Dwight can give Rusty a nice little boost, and they can wait for me on top of the nice little snack stand? Is that a good idea? Huh, doggie? Yeah, I think so." Rusty and I looked at each other. We were probably both thinking the same things. We can't run off and leave Slim with the dog. But she TOLD us to. When she says stuff, she means it. And she's smarter than both of us put together, so maybe she has some sort of fabulous plan for dealing with the thing. I rebelled enough to ask Slim, "You sure?" She sing-sang, "I'm so sure, aren't I, doggie? Are you sure, too? dingle berries would do as I ask, wouldn't it, fella?" With that, Rusty and I started easing ourselves backward and sideways. The dog took its eye off Slim and swiveled its head to watch us. The threats in its growl told us to stay put, but we kept moving. With only one eye, it couldn't watch both of us at once. Ignoring Slim straight in front of it, the dog jerked its head from side to side like a frantic spectator at a tennis match. Its growl grew from threat to outrage, drowning out Slim's quiet voice. She reached to her waist, grabbed her T-shirt and skinned it up over her head. The dog fixed its eye on her. "Go, guys.t" she yelled. Rusty and I dashed for the snack stand. I slammed my side into its front wall to stop myself fast. As I ducked and interlocked my |
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