Кладбище домашних животных

57

           PATTON;hesteppedovertheraggedchunkofboardthatmarkedthefinalrestingplaceofPOLYNESIA.Thetickofmetalwasloudernow,andhepaused,lookingdown.Hereatopaslightlyleaningboardthathadbeendrivenintotheground,wasatinrectangle,andbystarlightLouisread,RINGOOURHAMSTER,1964-1965.ItwasthispieceoftinthatwastickingrepeatedlyofftheboardsofthePetSematary’sentryarch.Louisreacheddowntobendthepieceoftinback...andthenfroze,scalpcrawling.

           Somethingwasmovingbackthere.Somethingwasmovingontheothersideofthedeadfall.

           Whatheheardwasastealthykindofsoundthefurtivecrackleofpineneedles,thedrypopofatwig,therattleofunderbrush.Theywerealmostlostunderthesoughofthewindthroughthepines.

           "Gage?"Louiscalledhoarsely.

           Theveryrealizationofwhathewasdoingstandinghereinthedarkandcallinghisdeadsonpulledhisscalpstiffandbroughthishairuponend.Hebegantoshudderhelplesslyandsteadily,asifwithasickandkillingfever.

           "Gage?"

           Thesoundshaddiedaway.

           Notyet;it’stooearly.Don’taskmehowIknow,butIdo.Thatisn’tGageoverthere.That’s...somethingelse.

           HesuddenlythoughtofEllietellinghim,Hecalled"Lazarus,comeforth"...becauseifHehadn’tcalledforLazarusbyname,everyoneinthatgraveyardwouldhaverisen.

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