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

"And one shot lasts like rive or ten years," I added.

"Couldn't hurt to get another," Rusty said. "Just to be on the safe
side. And the rabies shots."

After I pulled the pieces of glass out of Slim's back, she was still
bleeding. "You'd better lie down," I told her.

She stretched out flat on the roof, turned her head sideways and folded
her arms under her face.

Her back looked as if it had been painted bright red. Blood was
leaking from ten or twelve slits and gashes. Nowhere, however, was it
gushing out.

"Does it hurt much?" I asked.

"I've felt better. But I've felt a lot worse, too."

I'll bet," I said. I'd seen Slim get injured plenty of times and heard
about other stuff like some of the things her father liked to do to
her. Today's cuts and scratches seemed pretty minor compared to a lot
of that.

"You're gonna need stitches," Rusty informed her. "A lot of stitches."
"He's probably right," I said. "I'll be fine," she said.

"Long as the bleeding stops," I said, and started to unbutton my
shirt.

"Unless infection sets in," said Rusty.

"You're sure the life of the goddamn party," Slim muttered.

"Just being realistic."

"Why don't you make yoursdf useful," I said, "and hop down and go get a
doctor."

"Very funny."

I took off my shirt, folded it a couple of times to make a pad, and
pressed it gently against several of Slim's cuts. The blood soaked
through it, turning the checkered fabric red.

"Your mom's gonna kill you," Rusty said.

"It's an emergency." Where the blood on my shirt seemed worst, I
pressed down firmly. Slim stiffened under my hands.