JК
Desperation :: Кинг Стивен
Страница: 397 из 422It was only now, observing its absence, that Steve realized how much of the time that look had been there-as if, no matter what he was sayingor doing, most of Marinville’s attention was taken up by something that wasn’t. Something like a misplaced item or a forgotten chore.
“David thinks God means him to die in order to close Tak up in his bolthole again. The final sacrifice, so to speak. But David’s wrong.” Johnny’s voice cracked on the last word, and Steve was astonished to see that the boss was almost crying. “It’s not going to be that easy for him.”
“What-”
Johnny grabbed his arm. His grip so tight it was painful. “Shut up, Steve. Just grab him when the time comes. It’s up to you. Come on now.” He bent into the chest, grabbed a bag of ANEO by its drawstring, and tossed it to Steve. He got another for himself.
“Do you know how to set this shit off without any dyno or blasting caps.” Steve asked.
“You think you do, don’t you. What’s going to happen. Is God going to send down a lightning-bolt.”—“That’s what David thinks,” Johnny said, “and after the sardines and crackers, I’m not surprised. I don’t think it’ll come to anything that extreme, though. Come on. The hour groweth late.”
They walked out into what was left of the night and joined the others.
At the bottom of the slope, twenty yards below the ragged yawn that was China Shaft, Johnny stopped them and told them to tie the drawstrings of the bags together in pairs.
He slipped one of these pairs around his own neck, the sacks hanging down on either side of his chest like the counterweights of a cuckoo clock. Steve took another pair, and Johnny made no objection when David took the last set from his father and slipped the joined drawstrings around his own neck. Ralph, troubled, looked at Johnny. Johnny glanced at David, saw David was staring up at the drift opening, then looked back at the boy’s father, shook his head, and tapped a finger against his lips. Quiet, Dad.
Ralph looked doubtful but said nothing.
“Everybody all right.” Johnny asked.
“What’s going to happen.” Mary asked. “I mean, what’s the plan.”
“We do what God tells us,” David said. “That’s the plan. Come on.
It was David who led, going up the slope sidesaddle to keep from falling. There was no wide gravel road here, not even a path, and the ground was evil. Johnny could feel it trying to crumble out from under his boots at every upward lurch. Soon his heart was pounding and his bat-tered nose was throbbing in sync.
“David thinks God means him to die in order to close Tak up in his bolthole again. The final sacrifice, so to speak. But David’s wrong.” Johnny’s voice cracked on the last word, and Steve was astonished to see that the boss was almost crying. “It’s not going to be that easy for him.”
“What-”
Johnny grabbed his arm. His grip so tight it was painful. “Shut up, Steve. Just grab him when the time comes. It’s up to you. Come on now.” He bent into the chest, grabbed a bag of ANEO by its drawstring, and tossed it to Steve. He got another for himself.
“Do you know how to set this shit off without any dyno or blasting caps.” Steve asked.
“You think you do, don’t you. What’s going to happen. Is God going to send down a lightning-bolt.”—“That’s what David thinks,” Johnny said, “and after the sardines and crackers, I’m not surprised. I don’t think it’ll come to anything that extreme, though. Come on. The hour groweth late.”
They walked out into what was left of the night and joined the others.
At the bottom of the slope, twenty yards below the ragged yawn that was China Shaft, Johnny stopped them and told them to tie the drawstrings of the bags together in pairs.
He slipped one of these pairs around his own neck, the sacks hanging down on either side of his chest like the counterweights of a cuckoo clock. Steve took another pair, and Johnny made no objection when David took the last set from his father and slipped the joined drawstrings around his own neck. Ralph, troubled, looked at Johnny. Johnny glanced at David, saw David was staring up at the drift opening, then looked back at the boy’s father, shook his head, and tapped a finger against his lips. Quiet, Dad.
Ralph looked doubtful but said nothing.
“Everybody all right.” Johnny asked.
“What’s going to happen.” Mary asked. “I mean, what’s the plan.”
“We do what God tells us,” David said. “That’s the plan. Come on.
It was David who led, going up the slope sidesaddle to keep from falling. There was no wide gravel road here, not even a path, and the ground was evil. Johnny could feel it trying to crumble out from under his boots at every upward lurch. Soon his heart was pounding and his bat-tered nose was throbbing in sync.