"Richard Matheson - I Am Legend" - читать интересную книгу автора (Matheson Richard)

Breakfast was hasty: a glass of orange juice, a slice of toast, and two
cups of coffee. He finished it quickly, wishing he had the patience to eat
slowly.

After breakfast he threw the paper plate and cup into the trash box and
brushed his teeth. At least I have one good habit, he consoled himself.

The first thing he did when he went outside was look at the sky. It was
clear, virtually cloudless. He could go, out today. Good.

As he crossed the porch, his shoe kicked some pieces of the mirror. Well,
the damn thing broke just as I thought it would, he thought. He’d clean it
up later.

One of the bodies was sprawled on the sidewalk; the other one was half
concealed in the shrubbery. They were both women. They were almost always
women.

He unlocked the garage door and backed his Willys station wagon into the
early-morning crispness. Then he got out and pulled down the back gate. He
put on heavy gloves and walked over to the woman on the sidewalk.

There was certainly nothing attractive about them in the daylight, he
thought, as he dragged them across the lawn and threw them up on the canvas


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tarpaulin. There wasn’t a drop left in them; both women were the color of
fish out of water. He raised the gate and fastened it.

He went around the lawn then, picking up stones and bricks and putting them
into a cloth sack. He put the sack in the station wagon and then took off
his gloves. He went inside the house, washed his hands, and made lunch: two
sandwiches, a few cookies, and a thermos of hot coffee.

When that was done, he went into the bedroom and got his bag of stakes. He
slung this across his back and buckled on the holster that held his mallet.
Then he went out of the house, locking the front door behind him.

He wouldn’t bother searching for Ben Cortman that morning; there were too
many other things to do. For a second, he thought about the soundproofing
job he’d resolved to do on the house. Well, the hell with it, he thought.
I’ll do it tomorrow or some cloudy day.

He got into the station wagon and checked his list. “Lathe at Sears”; that