JК
Desperation :: Кинг Стивен
Страница: 390 из 422A symbolic affirmation expressly designed for stressful life-passages, sort of an ‘I’m okay, you’re stomped to shit’kind of thing. Or-”
“Shut up,” she said, not unkindly. “And you can let loose of me now.”
“Do I have to.” His hand moved on her waist. “I was just getting familiar with the topography.”
“Too bad I’m not a map.”
Johnny dropped his hand and they walked back to the others.
“David.” Steve asked. “Is that the place.”
He pointed past the cluster of heavy machinery and to the left of the rusty Quonset with the stove-stack. About—twenty yards up the slope was the squarish hole she had seen earlier. Then she hadn’t given it much consideration, as she’d had other fish to fry—staying alive, chiefly-but now looking at it gave her a bad feeling. A weak-in the knees feeling. Well, she thought, I did the bear, anyway it’ll never stare at anyone else cooped up in the back of that police-cruiser There’s that much.
“That’s it,” David said. “China Shaft.”
“Can tak in can tah,” his father said, as if in a dream “Yes.”
“And we have to blow it up.” Steve asked. “Just how do we go about that.”
David pointed to the concrete cube near the field office “First we have to get inside there.”
They walked over to the powder magazine. Ralph yanked at the padlock on the door, as if to get the feel of it, then racked the Ruger. The metallic clack-clack sound it made was very loud in the stillness of the pit. “The rest of you stand back,” he said. “This always works great in the movies, but in real life, who knows.”
Wait a sec, wait a sec,” Johnny said, and ran back to the Ryder truck. They heard him rummaging through the cartons of stuff just behind the cab, then: “Oh! There you are, you ugly thing.”
He came back carrying a black Bell motorcycle helmet with a full face-shield. He handed it to Ralph. “Brain bucket deluxe. I hardly ever wear this one, because there’s too much of it. I get it over my head and my claus trophobia kicks in. Put it on.”
Ralph did. The helmet made him look like a futuristic welder. Johnny stepped back from him as he turned to the lock again. So did the others. Mary had her hands on David’s shoulders.
“Why don’t you guys turn around.” Ralph said. His voice was muffled by the helmet.
Mary kept expecting David to protest-concern for his father, perhaps even exaggerated concern, wouldn’t be unusual, given the fact that he had lost the other two members of his family in the last twelve hours-but David said nothing.
“Shut up,” she said, not unkindly. “And you can let loose of me now.”
“Do I have to.” His hand moved on her waist. “I was just getting familiar with the topography.”
“Too bad I’m not a map.”
Johnny dropped his hand and they walked back to the others.
“David.” Steve asked. “Is that the place.”
He pointed past the cluster of heavy machinery and to the left of the rusty Quonset with the stove-stack. About—twenty yards up the slope was the squarish hole she had seen earlier. Then she hadn’t given it much consideration, as she’d had other fish to fry—staying alive, chiefly-but now looking at it gave her a bad feeling. A weak-in the knees feeling. Well, she thought, I did the bear, anyway it’ll never stare at anyone else cooped up in the back of that police-cruiser There’s that much.
“That’s it,” David said. “China Shaft.”
“Can tak in can tah,” his father said, as if in a dream “Yes.”
“And we have to blow it up.” Steve asked. “Just how do we go about that.”
David pointed to the concrete cube near the field office “First we have to get inside there.”
They walked over to the powder magazine. Ralph yanked at the padlock on the door, as if to get the feel of it, then racked the Ruger. The metallic clack-clack sound it made was very loud in the stillness of the pit. “The rest of you stand back,” he said. “This always works great in the movies, but in real life, who knows.”
Wait a sec, wait a sec,” Johnny said, and ran back to the Ryder truck. They heard him rummaging through the cartons of stuff just behind the cab, then: “Oh! There you are, you ugly thing.”
He came back carrying a black Bell motorcycle helmet with a full face-shield. He handed it to Ralph. “Brain bucket deluxe. I hardly ever wear this one, because there’s too much of it. I get it over my head and my claus trophobia kicks in. Put it on.”
Ralph did. The helmet made him look like a futuristic welder. Johnny stepped back from him as he turned to the lock again. So did the others. Mary had her hands on David’s shoulders.
“Why don’t you guys turn around.” Ralph said. His voice was muffled by the helmet.
Mary kept expecting David to protest-concern for his father, perhaps even exaggerated concern, wouldn’t be unusual, given the fact that he had lost the other two members of his family in the last twelve hours-but David said nothing.