Таинственная история Билли Миллигана

           WhileDonnawasbackingthecarout,hepulledagunfrominsidehisjacket.

           "Justdrive,"hesaid."You’regonnahelpmeout."Secondslater,headded,"IfyoudowhatIsay,you’renotgonnagethurt,butbelieveme,I’mwillingtokill."

           Thisisit,Donnathought.I’mgoingtodie.Shefeltherfacebum,herbloodvesselsconstrict,sickdeepdown.OhChrist,whyhadn’tshecalledSidneybeforesheleft?Well,atleastheknewshewassupposedtocallhim.Maybehe’dnotifythepolice.

           Herabductorreachedbehindtheseatandpickedupherpurse.Hetookoutherwalletandlookedatherdriverslicense."Well,Donna,drivetoInterstate71north."

           Hetookthetendollarsoutofherwallet.Shehadtheimpressionhewasmakingabigshowoftakingit,conspicuouslyfoldingthebillsandslippingthemintohisshirtpocket.Thenhetookacigaretteoutofherpackandpushedittowardherlips."Ibetyouwantasmoke,"hesaid,andlititwithhercarlighter.Shenoticedhishandshadsomekindofstainalloverthemandunderthefingernails,notdirtorgrimeoroil,butsomething.Ostentatiously,hewipedhisfingerprintsoffthelighter.ThatterrifiedDonna—itmeanthewasprobablyaprofessionalwithapolicerecord.Henoticedherstartledreaction.

           "I’mamemberofagroup,"hesaid."Someofusareinvolvedinpoliticalactivites.