Мгла
The Spell of Mrs. Carmody. The Second Night in the Market. The Final Confrontation.
That’seight,butBillycansitonsomeone’slapandwecanallsquashtogether."
Hethoughtitover."Allright,"hesaidfinally."We’lltry.Haveyoumentionedthistoanyoneelse?"
"No,notyet."
"Myadvicewouldbenotto,notuntilaboutfourtomorrowmorning.I’llputacoupleofbagsofgroceriesunderthecheckoutnearestthedoor.Ifwe’reluckywecansqueakoutbeforeanyoneknowswhat’shappening."HiseyesdriftedtoMrs.Carmodyagain."Ifsheknew,shemighttrytostopus."
"Youthinkso?"
Olliegotanotherbeer."Ithinkso,"hesaid.
Thatafternoon-yesterdayafternoon-passedinakindofslowmotion.Darknesscreptin,turningthefogtothatdullchromecoloragain.Whatworldwasleftoutsideslowlydissolvedtoblackbyeight-thirty.
Thepinkbugsreturned,thenthebird-things,swoopingintothewindowsandscoopingthemup.Somethingroaredoccasionallyfromthedark,andonce,shortlybeforemidnight,therewasalong,drawn-outAaaaarooooooo!thatcausedpeopletoturntowardtheblacknesswithfrightened,searchingfaces.Itwasthesortofsoundyou’dimagineabullalligatormightmakeinaswamp.
ItwentprettymuchasMillerhadpredicted.Bythesmallhours,Mrs.Carmodyhadgainedanotherhalfdozensouls.Mr.McVeythebutcherwasamongthem,standingwithhisarmsfolded,watchingher.
ShewastotallywoundLip.Sheseemedtoneednosleep.Hersermon,asteadystreamofhorrorsoutofDore,Bosch,andJonathanEdwards,wentonandon,buildingtowardsomecl**ax.
