Кладбище домашних животных

57

           

           Ontheothersideofthedeadfall,thosesoundshadbegunagain.Ontheothersideofthebarrier.Almostbutnotquitehiddenunderthewind.Asifsomethingblindwerestalkinghimwithancientinstincts.Hisdreadfullyoverstimulatedbrainconjuredhorrible,sickeningpictures:agiantmole,agreatbatthatfloppedthroughtheunderbrushratherthanflying.

           LouisbackedoutofthePetSematary,notturninghisbacktothedeadfallthatghostlikeglimmer,alividscaronthedarkuntilhewaswelldownthepath.Thenhebegantohurry,andperhapsaquarterofamilebeforethepathranoutofthewoodsandintothefieldbehindhishouse,hefoundenoughleftinsidehimtorun.

           Louisslungthepickandshovelindifferentlyinsidethegarageandstoodforamomentattheheadofhisdriveway,lookingfirstbackthewayhehadcomeandthenupatthesky.Itwasquarterpastfourinthemorning,andhesupposeddawncouldnotbesofaraway.LightwouldalreadybethreequartersofthewayacrosstheAtlantic,butfornow,hereinLudlow,thenightheldhard.Thewindblewsteadily.

           Hewentintothehouse,feelinghiswayalongthesideofthegarageandunlockingthebackdoor.Hewentthroughthekitchenwithoutturningonalightandsteppedintothesmallbathroombetweenthekitchenandthediningroom.Herehedidsnaponalight,andthefirstthinghesawwasChurch,curledupontopofthetoilettank,staringathimwiththosemuddyyellow-greeneyes.

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