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Desperation :: Кинг Стивен
Страница: 394 из 422After several fruitless efforts to depress the clef-shaped clip holding it to the belt-loop, Steve simply tore the whole thing off, loop and all. He closed the lid and crossed the room with the keyring. Johnny, he noticed, was standing about three paces inside the door, gazing raptly down at his motor-cycle helmet. “Alas, poor Urine,”
he said. “I knew him well.”
“Johnny. You okay.”
“Fine.” Johnny tucked the motorcycle helmet under his arm and smiled winningly at Steve… but his eyes looked haunted.
Steve gave the keys to Ralph. “One of these, maybe.” It didn’t take long. The third key Ralph tried slid into the padlock on the chest marked BLASTING AGENT. A moment later the five of them were looking inside. The chest had been partitioned into three bins.
Those on the ends were empty. The one in the middle was half full of what looked like long cheesecloth bags. Littered among them were a few escapees: round pellets that looked to Steve like whitewashed birdshot. The bags had drawstring tops. He lifted one out. It looked like a bratwurst and he guessed it weighed about ten pounds. Written on the side in black were the letters ANFO. Below them, in red: CAU—TION: FLAMMABLE, EXPLOSIVE.
“Okay,” Steve said, “but how are we going to set it off with no booster. You were right, boss-no dynamite, no blasting caps. Just a guy with a.30-.30 haircut. The demolitions foreman, I assume.”
Johnny looked at Steve, then at the others. “I wonder if the rest of you would step out,with David for a moment. I’d like to speak to Steve alone.”
“Why.” Cynthia asked instantly.
“Because I need to,” Johnny said in an oddly gentle voice. “It’s a little unfinished business, that’s all. An apology. I don’t apologize well under any circumstances, but I’m noi sure I could do it at all with an audience.”
Mary said, “I hardly think this is the time-”
The boss had been signalling him-signalling urgently-with his eyes. “It’s okay,” Steve said. “It’ll be quick.”
“And don’t go empty-handed,” Johnny said. “Each of you take a bag of this instant Fourth of July.”
“My understanding is that without something explosive to boost it, it’s more like Instant Campfire,” Ralph said.
“I want to know what’s going on here,” Cynthia said. She sounded worried.
“Nothing,” Johnny told her, his voice soothing.
“Really.
he said. “I knew him well.”
“Johnny. You okay.”
“Fine.” Johnny tucked the motorcycle helmet under his arm and smiled winningly at Steve… but his eyes looked haunted.
Steve gave the keys to Ralph. “One of these, maybe.” It didn’t take long. The third key Ralph tried slid into the padlock on the chest marked BLASTING AGENT. A moment later the five of them were looking inside. The chest had been partitioned into three bins.
Those on the ends were empty. The one in the middle was half full of what looked like long cheesecloth bags. Littered among them were a few escapees: round pellets that looked to Steve like whitewashed birdshot. The bags had drawstring tops. He lifted one out. It looked like a bratwurst and he guessed it weighed about ten pounds. Written on the side in black were the letters ANFO. Below them, in red: CAU—TION: FLAMMABLE, EXPLOSIVE.
“Okay,” Steve said, “but how are we going to set it off with no booster. You were right, boss-no dynamite, no blasting caps. Just a guy with a.30-.30 haircut. The demolitions foreman, I assume.”
Johnny looked at Steve, then at the others. “I wonder if the rest of you would step out,with David for a moment. I’d like to speak to Steve alone.”
“Why.” Cynthia asked instantly.
“Because I need to,” Johnny said in an oddly gentle voice. “It’s a little unfinished business, that’s all. An apology. I don’t apologize well under any circumstances, but I’m noi sure I could do it at all with an audience.”
Mary said, “I hardly think this is the time-”
The boss had been signalling him-signalling urgently-with his eyes. “It’s okay,” Steve said. “It’ll be quick.”
“And don’t go empty-handed,” Johnny said. “Each of you take a bag of this instant Fourth of July.”
“My understanding is that without something explosive to boost it, it’s more like Instant Campfire,” Ralph said.
“I want to know what’s going on here,” Cynthia said. She sounded worried.
“Nothing,” Johnny told her, his voice soothing.
“Really.