451 по фаренгейту

           Itwasupto120m.p.h.Itwasupto130atleast. Montagclampedhisjaws. Theheatoftheracingheadlightsburnthischeeks,itseemed,andjitteredhiseye-lidsandflushedthesoursweatoutalloverhisbody. 

           Hebegantoshuffleidioticallyandtalktohimself andthenhebrokeandjustran. Heputouthislegsasfarastheywouldgoanddownandthenfaroutagainanddownandbackandoutanddownandback. God!God!Hedroppedabook,brokepace,almostturned,changedhismind,plungedon,yellinginconcreteemptiness, thebeetlescuttlingafteritsrunningfood,twohundred,onehundredfeetaway,ninety,eighty,seventy, Montaggasping,flailinghishands,legsupdownout,updownout,closer,closer,hooting,calling,hiseyesburntwhitenow ashisheadjerkedabouttoconfronttheflashingglare,nowthebeetlewasswallowedinitsownlight, nowitwasnothingbutatorchhurtlinguponhim;allsound,allblare.Now-almostontopofhim! 

           Hestumbledandfell. 

           I’mdone!It’sover! 

           Butthefallingmadeadifference. Aninstantbeforereachinghimthewildbeetlecutandswervedout. Itwasgone.Montaglayflat,hisheaddown. Wispsoflaughtertrailedbacktohimwiththeblueexhaustfromthebeetle. 

           Hisrighthandwasextendedabovehim,flat. Acrosstheextremetipofhismiddlefinger,hesawnowasheliftedthathand,afaintsixteenthofaninchofblacktreadwheretyrehadtouchedinpassing. Helookedatthatblacklinewithdisbelief,gettingtohisfeet. 

           Thatwasn’tthepolice,hethought.