Мгла
The Coming of the Mist.
"He’sright,"Isaid,shoutingtobeheardoverthenoise."Let’sjusttrytokeepcool."
"Ithinkthatwasanearthquake,"abespectacledmansaid.Hisvoicewassoft.Inonehandheheldapackageofhamburgerandabagofbuns.Theotherhandwasholdingthehandofalittlegirl,maybeayearyoungerthanBilly."Ireallythinkthatwasanearthquake."
"TheyhadoneoverinNaplesfouryearsago,"afatlocalmansaid.
"ThatwasinCasco,"hiswifecontradictedimmediately.Shespokeintheunmistakabletonesofaveterancontradictor.
"Naples,"thefatlocalmansaid,butwithlessassurance."Casco,"hiswifesaidfirmly,andhegaveup.
Somewhereacanthathadbeenjostledtotheveryedgeofitsshelfbythethump,earthquake,whateverithadbeen,felloffwithadelayedclatter.Billyburstintotears."Iwanttogohome’!IwantmyMOTHER!"
"Can’tyoushutthatkidup?"BudBrownasked.Hiseyesweredartingrapidlybutaimlesslyfromplacetoplace.
"Wouldyoulike,ashotintheteeth,motormouth?"Iaskedhim.
"Comeon,Dave,that’snothelping,"Nortonsaiddistractedly.
"I’msorry,"thewomanwhohadscreamedearliersaid."I’msorry,butIcan’tstayhere.I’vegottogethomeandseetomykids."
Shelookedaroundatus,ablondwomanwithatired,prettyface.
"Wanda’slookingafterlittleVictor,yousee.Wanda’sonlyeightandsometimessheforgets...forgetsshe’ssupposedtobe...well,watchinghim,youknow.AndlittleVictor...helikestoturnonthestoveburnerstoseethelittleredlightcomeon...
