Сияние

The Hedges

           Itsmouthwasopen,itshaunchestenseddownlikeaclockspring.Behinditandtheothershecouldseetherabbit,itsheadnowstickingoutofthesnow,brightgreen,asifithadturneditshorridblankfacetowatchtheendofthestalk.

           Now,ontheOverlook’sfrontlawnbetweenthecirculardriveandtheporch,heletthepaniclooseandbegantorunclumsilyinthesnowshoes,notdaringtolookbacknow,tiltingfurtherandfurtherforward,hisarmsoutaheadofhimlikeablindmanfeelingforobstacles.Hishoodfellback,revealinghiscomplexion,pastewhitegivingwaytohecticredblotchesonhischeeks,hiseyesbulgingwithterror.Theporchwasveryclosenow.

           Behindhimheheardthesuddenhardcrunchofsnowassomethingleaped.

           Hefellontheporchsteps,screamingwithoutsound,andscrambledupthemonhishandsandknees,snowshoesclatteringandaskewbehindhim.

           Therewasaslashingsoundintheairandsuddenpaininhisleg.Therippingsoundofcloth.Somethingelsethatmighthave-musthave-beeninhismind.

           Bellowing,angryroar.

           Smellofbloodandevergreen.

           Hefellfull-lengthontheporch,sobbinghoarsely,therich,metallictasteofcopperinhismouth.Hisheartwasthunderinginhischest.Therewasasmalltrickleofbloodcomingfromhisnose.

           HehadnoideahowlonghelaytherebeforethelobbydoorsflewopenandJackranout,wearingjusthisjeansandapairofslippers

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