"McCammon Robert R. - They Thirst" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCammon Robert R)

R.M.
9 It was midnight in Topanga I heard the DJ say "There's a full moon rising Join
me in L.A. . . ."
-Warren Zevon
I'd kill for love|
I'd kill for love
As sure as there's a God above
I'd kill for love
-Rory Black
Shadows shifting everywhere; Very thin and very tall, Moving, mingling on the
wall, Till they make one Shadow all
-Augustus Julian Requier
10 11 PROLOGUE
Tonight there were demons in the hearth.
They spun, arched, and spat at the eyes of the boy who sat at the fire's edge,
his legs crossed under him in that unconscious way children have of being
incredibly supple. Chin supported by palms, elbows supported by knees, he sat
in|] silence, watching the flames gather, merge, and break into fragments that
hissed with secrets. He had turned nine only six days ago, but now he felt very
old because _ Papa wasn't home yet and those fire-demons were laughing.
While I'm away, you must be head of the house, Papa had said as he coiled a line
of thick rope around his bear's paw of a hand. You must take care of your mother
and see that all goes well while I and your uncle are gone. Do you understand
that?
Yes, Papa.
And see that you bring in the wood for her when she asks and stack it neatly
along the wall so it can dry. And anything else she asks of you, you'll do, yes?

I will. He could still see his father's fissured, wind-ravaged face towering
over him and feel the rough-as-hearthstones hand on his shoulder. The grip of
that hand had conveyed an unspoken message: This is a serious thing I do, boy.
Make no mistake about that. Watch out for your mother and be careful.
The boy understood, and Papa had nodded with satisfaction.
The next morning he watched through the kitchen window while Uncle Josef hitched
the two old gray-and-white horses to the family's wagon. His parents had drawn
away, standing across the room near the bolted slab of a door. Papa had put on
his woolen cap and the heavy sheepskin coat Mama had made for him as a Christmas
present years before, then slipped the coil of rope around one shoulder. The boy
picked listlessly from a bowl of beef broth and tried to listen, knowing that
they were whispering so that he would not hear. But he also knew that if he did
hear, he really wouldn't know what they were whispering about, anyway. It's not
fair! he told himself as he dipped his fingers into the broth and brought out a
chunk of meat. If I'm to be the head of the house, shouldn't I know the secrets,
too?
Across the room Mama's voice had suddenly surged up out of control. Let the
others do it! Please! But Papa had caught her chin, tilted her face up, and
looked gently into those morning-gray eyes. I have to do this thing, he'd said,
and she looked like she wanted to cry but could not. She'd used up all her tears
the night before, lying in the goosedown bed in the other room. The boy had
heard her all through the night. It was as if the heavy hours were cracking her