Кладбище домашних животных

44

           Madnesswasallaroundhim,softlyflutteringasthewingsofnight-huntingowlswithgreatgoldeneyes:hewasheadingintomadness.

           ThevoiceofTomRushechoeddreamilyinhishead:Odeathyourhandsareclammy...Ifeelthemonmyknees...youcameandtookmymother...won’tyoucomebackafterme?

           Madness.Madnessallaround,close,huntinghim.

           Hewalkedthebalancebeamofrationality;hestudiedhisplan.

           Tonight,aroundeleveno’clock,hewoulddiguphisson’sgrave,removethebodyfromthecoffininwhichitlay,wrapGageinacutdownpieceofthetarpaulin,andputitinthetrunkoftheCivic.Hewouldreplacethecoffinandrefillthegrave.HewoulddrivetoLudlow,takeGage’sbodyfromthetrunk...andtakeawalk.Yes,hewouldtakeawalk.

           IfGagereturned,thesinglepathforkedintotwopossibilities.Alongone,hesawGagereturningasGage,perhapsstunnedorsloworevenretarded(onlyinthedeepestrecessesofhisminddidLouisallowhimselftohopethatGagewouldreturnwhole,andjustashehadbeenbutsurelyeventhatwaspossible,wasn’tit?),butstillhisson,Rachel’sson,Ellie’sbrother.

           Alongtheother,hesawsomesortofmonsteremergingfromthewoodsbehindthehouse.Hehadacceptedsomuchthathedidnotbalkattheideaofmonsters,orevenofdaemons,discorporealbeingsofevilfromtheouterworldwhichmightwelltakechargeofareanimatedbodyfromwhichtheoriginalsoulhadfled.

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