Мгла
The Expedition to the pharmacy.
BuddyEagletonwasaheadofMrs.Repplerandheturnedtorun,hiseyeswideandstary.Shebattedhimlightlyinthechestwithhertennisracket."Wheredoyouthingyou’regoing?"sheaskedinhertough,slightlyraspyvoice,andthatwasallthepanictherewas.
TherestofusdrewuptoMiller.ItookoneglancebackovermyshoulderandsawthattheFederalhadbeenswallowedupbythemist.Theredcinderblockwallfadedtoathinwashpinkandthendisappearedutterly,probablyfivefeetontheBridgtonPharmacysideoftheOUTdoor.Ifeltmoreisolated,moresimplyalone,thaneverinmylife.ItwasasifIhadlostthewomb.
Thepharmacyhadbeenthesceneofaslaughter.
MillerandI,ofcourse,wereveryclosetoit-almostontopofit.Allthethingsinthemistoperatedprimarilybysenseofsmell.Itstoodtoreason.Sightwouldhavebeenalmostcompletelyuselesstothem.Hearingalittlebetter,butasI’vesaid,themisthadawayofscrewingUptheacoustics,makingthingsthatwereclosesounddistantand-sometimes-thingsthatwerefarawaysoundclose.Thethingsinthemistfollowedtheirtruestsense.Theyfollowedtheirnoses.
Thoseofusinthemarkethadbeensavedbythepoweroutageasmuchasbyanythingelse.Theelectric-eyedoorswouldn’toperate.Inasense,themarkethadbeenscaledupwhenthemistcame.Butthepharmacydoors...theyhadbeenchockedopen.Thepowerfailurehadkilledtheirairconditioningandtheyhadopenedthedoorstoletinthebreeze.Onlysomethingelsehadcomeinaswell.
